Sermon October 23, 2011

Deuteronomy 34:1-12, Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17

1 Thessalonians 2:1-8,Matthew 22:34-46

“God's Story, Our Stories”

At the end of Deuteronomy, we hear the end of one man's story. The story is of the end of Moses' life, a man whose life was intertwined and integrated with God as he led the people of Israel, the Hebrew people as they are called in this part of their history, from slavery through a wilderness sojourn and to the border of the promised land where he died. His life is quite a story, from beginning to end. And it's told again and again—in books and films—and in scripture, his experiences with God are related to each new generation because his time with God stamped God's claim on the people of Israel.

The stories of Moses walk with God are told as a part of the history of what made the descendents of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and his wives, into the people of God. From God's movement of redemption, when God took the people out of slavery in Egypt and into the wilderness, they grew into a nation and grew to know their God. And each story within that overarching history shows us a very real God dealing with a very real people who misunderstand and disappoint each other, but grow closer and more aware of each other with each passing day. In the desperation of the wilderness they could not ignore each other—at least the people could not ignore God. But now, as they end an era, the era of wilderness wandering, they begin a set of new stories, the stories of their integration into the land of Canaan.

This set of stories, ends with a death—the death of a great man, this scripture says, “¹⁰ Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. ¹¹He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the Lord sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his servants and his entire land, ¹²and for all the mighty deeds and all the terrifying displays of power that Moses performed in the sight of all Israel.”

This scriptural tribute sets a stage for the next leader—an impossibly high goal to reach, shoes too big to fill—a leadership that Joshua does not try to emulate, but creates his own kind of leadership for a brand new situation. He becomes a part of the whole story—while the story is yet being told.

The story of God and the story of human beings are told in tandem in scripture because God's story and the story of humanity touch and become one story with many branches and plot lines. Scripture often helps us see the ways in which God's story and our stories interweave. In scripture we are taught where and how we can recognize God's movement in a story, and see that we aren't alone.

As we think back over the stories of Moses and the people wandering in the wilderness, we can think about what it might have been like for Moses to be the leader of that wandering band. Imagine the frustration—you know where you are going, but God is the one controlling the agenda, getting you to the Promised Land how and when God wants you there. Have you ever looked at a map of this journey? Certainly it wasn't an afternoon stroll, but it was no more than 225 miles from Goshen where they started, directedly through to Canaan. So if you walked at 2 miles per hour for 4 hours per day straight through, it would take 28 or so days. But God decreed that it would take them 40 years—imaging leading that kind of resentment.

But God had God's own reasons—and we're aware of many of them. The first generation of Hebrews were stubborn, idolatrous and needed some time to mature. Moses and Joshua were among that first generation—and Joshua was the one who was allowed into the promised land.

And we have our own stories of what brought us to the place where we are—stories that could cause us to resent the people who've walked along with us or stories that can make us grateful to be the people who stand here today. We could tell stories about the wonders of times past and mourn that they'll never be here again or we could tell stories about the storms we've weathered and how those storms have made us who we are—stronger or weaker, but wiser, I hope.

The stories about our arrival at this day and in this place are a part of what determines who we are today. The story of this particular congregation is just one story—each family group and each individual has their own branch, twigs and leaves that form a part our big story of God's interaction with each one and all of us together.

There's a children's book about three trees, that tells how each tree participated in the life of Jesus. The olive tree dreamed of becoming a treasure chest, but instead became a feeding trough where the swaddled infant Jesus slept in the stable. The oak tree dreamed of being a great sailing ship and instead became a boat where Jesus taught and then slept and once revealed to his disciples that he had authority over the waves. The pine tree wanted nothing more than to stand and point to God in the sky yet is chosen to be roughly formed into the cross where Jesus died. And though revelation about the final tree often receives the most emotional response, each tree was necessary to tell the whole of the story. Jesus was born. Jesus taught and was a revelation of God's power. Jesus died and rose again. No one part of the story can be told without all parts of the story.

The stories we tell of our lives may not be the ones that we imagined when we were young—and the stories we imagine we could tell some day, if we are young now, may not be the ones that get to be told. But each one of us can look over the stories of our lives and with the eyes of faith, see how God's story has touched our own and how our stories have crossed into and around God's.

To recognize God in our lives, we have to be willing to use our hindsight and not always trust our foresight. In other words, we might not always know when God will walk with us, but we can look back as see that God has always been there, however alone we may have felt.

When I have talked to my baptism classes about how God has been active in our lives, I have had them take a piece of paper and make a time like that represent their lives from birth until today—and even into the future.

I've drawn a line to represent my life from birth to around now . . . and I've marked some significant events and dates in my life—very briefly. What I can do now is think about the times that I have been particularly aware of God's presence, I could say, “This is my story and God's story—they meet here.” And I could go along and note several of those places. I could also note when I felt most alone and without God's presence. We could all note each of those times, I think. Then I could look at the alone times, the most difficult and see if I grew there, if I learned anything or if I just got bitter or resentful. Was God working in those times, too? Maybe, maybe not.

I invite you to do this on paper or in your imagination this week—this is your homework.

And then I invite you to think about how you would summarize your life so far. Who are you? And who has God been to you? Then how would you hope to summarize the rest of your life? What are the hopes you would like to accomplish or see in your lifetime? How might you want to be remembered? How does that shape your story?

The bible tells us of how God's people sat with God face-to-face like Moses. It tells us how the people of God walked with God, sometimes faithfully and sometimes less so, but that God was weaving God's story in and out of theirs.

We hear of Moses' final moments in today's scripture when God forbid him from entering the Promised Land and yet seems to be the one who buries him with a loving hand and heart. And we hear that Moses was unequaled in the history of faith for his actions and his wonders and all he accomplished on behalf of God in the lives of the people of Israel.

Let our stories be told, too. Let us know what God has done for us with us and among us. And let our story continue . . .

to God's glory and with God's grace in Jesus Christ. Amen.