Please Send Someone Else
Exodus: The Old Testament Story You Must Know
As we make our way through our Old Testament sermon series, we get to Exodus, the most important story of the Old Testament. If you’re unfamiliar, Exodus is the story of how God delivered the Hebrew people out of slavery to the Egyptians.
If you only know one Old Testament story, this is the one to know. Jewish identity, as well as the rest of the Old and New Testaments, is built upon it. What is so important about it? Exodus reveals a compassionate God who is outraged by human cruelty, intervenes in human history, and works through ordinary, flawed people to bring liberation. God’s agenda is freedom. Freedom from oppression and slavery to the ways of sin and death.
Moses’ Early Years
Our story begins when one day the Pharaoh, or king of Egypt, looked around and said, “There are too many non-Egyptians. There’s getting to be more of them than there are of us.” So, he threw the whole race of Hebrew people into slavery and treated them despicably. But even in slavery, over the generations, the Hebrew population exploded in number, so a later Pharaoh ordered the slaughter of male infants.
But two midwives committed the first recorded act of civil disobedience, defying the government. When Moses was born, instead of following orders, they put him in a basket and sent it down the river, where the princess drew him out and raised him in the royal household.
Moses grows up. One day he sees an Egyptian taskmaster brutalizing a Hebrew slave. Moses is so enraged that he kills the taskmaster and then flees the country to avoid his own execution. He makes a new life, gets married, and tends his father-in-law’s sheep, a far cry from the palace’s extravagance where he grew up. That’s where our reading picks up.
The Burning Bush and Call
One day as he’s out tending to the herd, he comes across a weird bush. It’s on fire but not consumed. And there’s an angel in the middle of it. Then it gets weirder. It speaks. Take off your sandals, for you stand on holy ground. Uh, what? Alright.
Moses and the bush get into a conversation. Well, not the bush, but God somehow through the bush. God says that it’s terrible what the Egyptians are doing. God has heard the cries of the Hebrew people and will deliver them and lead them to the promised land. And the way God is going to accomplish this is by sending Moses back to Egypt, where he is wanted for murder. Just march up to the Pharaoh and demand he let the slaves go free. It’s kind of a big ask.
Moses has questions. Who are you? Why would anyone follow me, a fugitive? What makes you think the most powerful man on the planet is going to voluntarily release his free labor force on the demand of an outcast shepherd’s God?
The conversation goes back and forth for a bit. God says not to sweat it because God will accompany Moses and Moses will be able to perform some miracles with a cool staff.
But that’s not enough to persuade Moses to risk his life. But how do you say, “No!” to God?
Moses says he’s not eloquent and he has a major speech impediment. A reasonable objection that Moses underscores with one of my favorite lines in the Bible. “Please, send someone else.”
It’s a favorite because it’s where I can relate to the story. I don’t have any experience with burning bushes or a miraculous staff, and my brain cannot comprehend what it means by saying the divine name is “I AM.” But I have loads of experience asking God to send someone else.
Like most pastors I know, I initially resisted the call to ministry. The first person to suggest I become a minister was my brother. I felt so insulted that I punched him.
I used to be a United Methodist, and for my first church after seminary, the bishop assigned me to this tiny town with a population of under 200. It didn’t pay enough to keep up with my family and student loans. But it occurred to me that many of the people in the Bible resisted what God asked of them.
We have Moses in this story. Jonah fled in the opposite direction from where God wanted him to go. Isaiah said, “Woe is me.” Jeremiah whined about it constantly. Even Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane said, “Take this cup from me.” I decided that I was in good company, so I took a leap of faith and went to that little town even though I initially resisted. Turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
We all resist. Even the little stuff. Like this week. I thought, “Write a sermon on resistance? No thank you.”
Our burning bushes.
Moses had a burning bush that grabbed his attention. My experience is that we have other things that grab our attention and call us to act. The thoughts that keep returning. Someone we keep thinking about, a situation that bothers us, a conversation we’ve put off. Sometimes it’s events that make you think, “Somebody ought to do something about that.”
Maybe a burning bush is anything that keeps grabbing our attention. It’s hard to walk past.
I’m not suggesting every impulse comes from God. But when something persistently moves us toward compassion, justice, healing, reconciliation, or helping someone else, it deserves another look.
And it can be so annoying. I think of my dad who likes to say, “The only thing I want is to be left alone.”
Sometimes we get overwhelmed. The last thing we want is more responsibility. Getting involved in stuff probably requires time, attention, money, and the possibility of failing. So we say, “No thank you. Please find someone else.” But be careful about wishing to be left alone. You might wish away the best things that can happen for you.
God is unimpressed with our objections.
Moses’s concerns feel legit. He grew up in a palace; he’s coming in as an outsider; he’s a wanted man; and he has some speech impediment. Perhaps something like stuttering. But God isn’t interested in what Moses thinks he can’t do. God says I’ll be with you and I’ll equip you with what you need. Your brother Aaron can be the spokesperson.
For some reason, every time someone in the Bible comes up with a perfectly valid reason as to why they can’t do what God asked them to do, God is never impressed. Not once does God say, “You’re right. I hadn’t considered that. My bad. Never mind.” Nope. It’s always the same with this God. “You go. I’ll go with you. Rely on my strength, not just your own. You will have everything you need. Now get going.”
Our limitations don’t disqualify us.
Moses goes.
Will you?
Will you take a step forward in faith with what has grabbed your attention, to some area where you can do some good? Turn the concern into a verb.
Call. Write. Ask. Visit. Apologize. Volunteer. Learn. Give. Invite.
What is one thing you can do in the next 24 hours? Ask yourself, “What is the thing you’ve been thinking someone else ought to do?” What is one step you could take?
Moses begins with “Please send someone else.” It’s human, but it’s not the end of the story. Maybe that is the invitation. You don’t need an actual physical burning bush or an idiot-proof plan. You just need to get to yes. I’ll take the next step. It’s the kind of thing that makes all the difference in the world. With all the problems in the world, don’t leave to somebody else what is yours to do. Remember the core message of this critically important story: God works through ordinary people with pasts and limitations to make the world a better, fairer place. That includes you. Amen.