"Steadfast Change"
The Reverend Thomas C. Willadsen, First Presbyterian Church, Oshkosh, Wisconsin, for the November 13, 2010 meeting of the Finest Presbytery in this Sovereign Republic at First Presbyterian Church, Neenah, WI, Exodus 3:1-15
They say that the best sermons are the ones you preach to yourself.
When I was in seminary I was very nervous before my fourth sermon. The first time I preached as a hospital chaplain to a congregation of four seminary classmates and whoever tuned in on the hospital's closed circuit TV station. Then as an intern I preached the Sunday after Thanksgiving, when the pastor and most of the congregation, was on vacation; New Year's Day, which fell on a Sunday that year, again when the pastor was on vacation and attendance was light. But February 26 was a day when there would be people at church, a real congregation and I was preaching. And I was scared. I got off the el and started walking toward the church. "God I'm scared." I said. Then, I looked up at the sky and said, "God... I'm scared."
And I heard an answer, the same answer that Moses got when he was negotiating the terms of his call there in Horeb, "I will be with you." That bit of reassurance is, I believe, the key to this whole story. "I will be with you." And it was also the point of the whole sermon I was about to preach. I needed to hear it too, not just preach it.
And in all honesty, "I will be with you," was not the answer to my prayer that I had hoped for. What I wanted was for this to be a good sermon. What I wanted was for the congregation--and this really was the first time I would ever preach before a full sanctuary--to say, "that was a great sermon, and Tom, you're a great preacher!" What I got was "I will be with you."
But "I will be with you" was enough to get me to stand in the pulpit and bravely deliver the words I had written.
The story of the Call of Moses is rich and engaging. There was Moses, on the lam, tending his father-in-law's sheep. Even people who are not religious recognize the significance of the burning bush--but that was only divine special effects to get Moses' attention. To me, the real meat of the story comes as Moses negotiates with God.
And Moses' response to God's call rings true for many of us today. Moses objected to accepting God's call five time altogether before accepting. Two of his objections are in this morning's reading and three come later. His first objection is "Who am I that I should go to Pharoah?" The Message phrases Moses' question this way, "But why me? What makes you think that I could ever go to Pharaoh and lead the children of Israel out of Egypt?" It's as though Moses is saying, "I'm nobody. I don't have the clout, status or political connections to go to Pharoah." And God responds, "I will be with you."
Next Moses asks what to do if the leaders of his own people, the Hebrews, press for the name, that is the identity of the God whom Moses claims is calling him. And God says "I am who I am," "This shall be my name forever this is my appellation for all eternity."
Well. My first thought is this is not the God of my ancestors, this is Popeye! But a look at the Hebrew makes this even more complex. The verb tenses for God's name are vague. "I am" could also be translated, "I will be." Which brings to mind not Popeye, but Doris Day. God's name, God's identity forever and to all generations could be rendered into English as "I am who I will be." God is taking a name that expresses a resolute and absolute freedom. My favorite rendering of this name comes from The Torah, a Modern Translation, "I will be what tomorrow demands." So God insists on being one who responds to human needs and situations. God insists on being alive. The God who promised to be with Moses when he went to Pharoah, the God who told me in my moment of anxiety and stage fright, "I will be with you," is the God we worship and serve. The God we seek to follow.
A few years ago I hit a moment of writers' block as I was working on my stewardship sermon. I decided to phone Marion Conditt, the longest-ordained pastor I could think of. I had to ask him if there has ever been a time when the economy was not uncertain. If through the course of his long career he could remember a year when inviting the congregation to embrace what the Book of Order describes as " the privilege of responsible Christian stewardship of money and time and talents" [G-10.0102h] was easy. Marion just laughed. There has always been uncertainty and anxiety, though the specific situation changes all the time, the vast question mark that is the future is always with us.
In this, the finest presbytery in this sovereign Republic we are facing the obvious change of the retirement of our executive presbytery of more than a decade. Lucy has brought energy, intelligence, imagination and love to her work as shepherd of this flock. And I would also add that Lucy has always acted professionally, pastorally and ethically. Her departure will change this community profoundly, just as her presence has shaped us.
And for me personally, on a local level, my friend and colleague Ed Slusser is also retiring at the end of the year. I cannot think of a more stable and even-tempered Presbyterian minister. Through my nearly 12 years in this Presbytery Ed has covered for me repeatedly when I have been on vacation, sabbatical and study leave and I have great confidence in him, as do the members of my congregation.
So I look ahead to January 1, 2011 and I do not know what the climate of our Presbytery will be. I know we will miss Lucy. I know I will miss Ed. But that's all I know--perhaps all anyone can know.
And these two retirements take place in an era of declining support for "organized religion" culturally and declining financial support for judicatories in ours and other Protestant denominations. Technology is forcing change on us and the generation gap seems to be widening by the very machines and conveniences that are sold to us as having the power to bring people together. With all these forces surrounding us with change; with all these forces reminding us that we are not in control of much of anything, I find myself clinging to this little story from the Torah in which God refused to be confined to a name. "I am who I will be." Or "I will be what tomorrow demands." It is this God whom alone we worship and serve. It is this God who spoke to a scared seminarian more than 20 years. It is this God who spoke to Moses out of the flames of a bush that was being burned, but not consumed. It is this God who said then, and says now, and will say forever, "I will be with you." Our challenge as a Presbytery is to trust that promise from our Lord who is sovereign and forever free. Our challenge as a Presbytery is to trust that promise from our Lord who is as steadfast and unchanging as change itself. Amen.