Lent 3C, I Am has heard

Lent 3C readings can be found here

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They will want to know. They will want to know who this God is.

They will want to know who it was that called out to Moses.

They will want to know to whom they owe their salvation.

They will want to know.

And, so I am who I am. The God of our ancestors.

The One who has not just heard, but responded to the cry of a desperate people.

I must turn, says the man.

I must turn, towards this God who calls out to me.

I must turn.

And, in the turning, be transformed.

In the turning, be freed.

In the turning, become.

Become what he was always meant to be.

Liberator, redeemer, savior, through the power of the great I am, the power of God.

And the sea will be divided, and the people will be healed, and the desert will bring forth the fruit of all creation.

I am their God and they are my people.

I must turn, says the man.

I must turn.

Today is the third Sunday of our Lenten observances. The halfway point of the journey to Jerusalem, the half way point of our wilderness wandering.

Imagine, a vast expanse of desert behind you, a vast expanse of desert ahead…This is the point of the journey in which the desert seems endless. This is the place where we cannot see where we came from, but we still cannot see where we are going.

Soul weary, body weary.

And here, we encounter God.

So, turn.

Turn.

Turn to face the future.

Because, the day is coming. The day is coming when all shall turn. When all shall be renewed.

I am who I am, and you are who you are.

So, remember who God is. Remember who you are.

Remember, who you are called to be.  

And, remember, you are not alone.

Look around you. These are your fellow travelers.

Look around you and see. See, in each other, God’s commitment that we shall not and will never be alone in the wilderness of despair.

You are not alone in anger.

You are not alone in shame.

You are not alone in fear.

You are not alone.

In the desert, in the deep, in our sorrows and in our joys—none of us is alone.

The collect of the day, the prayer which began our worship together, speaks to the necessity of interconnection in our journey through life,  

“we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves”

We can’t go it alone. We need God and we need each other.

We know this. With our heart and with our soul. With our mind and with our body. We know this.

Which is why, when the news came out of New Zealand last week of yet another white supremacist act of terrorism, the world gave witness to acts of unity and solidarity.

From the interfaith gathering at Dar al Farooq Islamic Center in Bloomington, to memorials erected at Anglican Churches in New Zealand, people came together. People came together in witness to our interdependence, our mutual accountability, and our need to see the truth of the good in the midst of evil.

Rami Nashashibi, a Muslim community organizer interviewed for a story about unity and solidarity on NPR, speaks to the necessity of solidarity in the face of hatred, "Both the physical and spiritual well-being of our communities here and in the future really depend on how well we are connected to one another…Our isolation, our disconnection from one another only makes us that much more vulnerable to the forces of evil…To the forces of hatred and bigotry that either want to silence us, intimidate us or pit us against one another to carry out really insidious agendas." https://www.npr.org/2019/03/17/704232275/we-are-not-safe-unless-we-are-together-interfaith-vigils-follow-mosque-shootings

Physically and spiritually, we have been assaulted by the powers of evil in this world—and yet, those powers shall not and will never have the last word.

And so, in witness to this truth, let us consider how the people of New Zealand have responded to crisis,  

“New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced the country's government will ban “military-style semi-automatic weapons and assault rifles.”

And, so, we turn.

“Faith and community groups hold solidarity rally. “

            And, so, we turn.

“All acute medical costs will be taken care of.”

And, so, we turn.

And evil shall be renounced and we shall turn towards God.   

           

I cannot deny that we are in the wilderness and that there is evil within and evil without. But, the wilderness itself is not evil.  

Rather, the wilderness is the place in which we can recognize the powers of evil in this world. And, when we recognize these powers, we can renounce them. When we recognize these forces within ourselves, we can repent of them.

The wilderness is where we fulfill our baptismal commitment to renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God. The wilderness is where we are given the choice to turn towards Christ. The wilderness…

Let our cry come to you, O God.

Let our cry come to you.

Lead us from this place and into the promised land.

Where death shall be no more, where hatred shall be no more, where fear and ignorance shall be no more.

“The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.”

I am has heard, I am has seen, I am will send.

I am is our God, the God of our ancestors…and we are in the wilderness with our God.

And, in this wilderness place we are to find ourselves encouraged. It is at this point when we are reminded of who we are and who God is. It is at this point when we are encouraged to turn away from the evils that assail us, and towards the God who loves us.

We are encouraged.

Encouragement may seem a peculiar articulation of the text we heard proclaimed today—texts which can strike us as ominous or threatening.

However, the authors of these texts had a rhetorical goal—they wanted to encourage reconciliation and repentance amongst communities in conflict and crisis. Communities that needed to remember who they were and to whom they belonged.

And, so they are reminded of God’s commitment to their ancestors. They are reminded of the failings of their ancestors. They are reminded of their own fragility. And, they are reminded of God’s commitment to them in their time.

We are halfway in our Lenten journey.

And, we are invited to turn.

Amen.