The story of the call of Moses is in Exodus 3 and 4 – and there is quite a conversation between God and Moses. The first thing is that Moses’ attention is attracted. He notices a bush on fire, but not being burnt up. 3:3 – And Moses said to himself, ‘I must go across and see this remarkable sight. Why ever does the bush not burn away?’
I am not going to engage in any speculation as to an explanation of the physical phenomenon of an unconsumed burning bush. That is all very interesting, but not what I regard as the main point – which is, quite simply, God’s attracting Moses’ attention. God happens to have used something unusual, at least sufficiently unusual for it to do the job. There are endless ways in which God might attract our attention. It might be someone saying something. It might be something we read. It might be a spectacular experience of some sort. But the only thing that matters is that we allow our attention to be attracted.
The next thing is to notice is that God calls Moses by name.
It is fundamental to the Biblical understanding that God knows who we are and will call us by name. We matter to God – and God chooses to work in partnership with us.
Moses responds, ‘Here I am’ – though, as we will discover, that is all that he means. He’s there. He’s noticed that there is something strange going on. He is not saying: I am ready for action. He is not saying that he is willing to do whatever it is that God wants. But he has reached the starting line – and that’s important. It can be important for us too. Like Moses, as we see as we continue through the story, we might end up wanting to engage God in debate. We might even want to suggest that we’re not the right person. And, of course, God doesn’t want everyone to do everything. That would be unsustainable. But God has Moses’ attention. And presumably he has ours. Otherwise we wouldn’t even be here.
The next significant thing in this story for me is the verse 5 comment – the place you are standing on is holy ground. Places are important in the Bible. This is a special place. Now, of course, what makes it special is God’s presence. That’s why it is holy. God can be with us anywhere, of course. God can make anyone holy. But it is not unknown for us, even within our reformed tradition, to find some actual spaces spiritually helpful – Iona, Taizé and Holy Island spring to mind. But your holy place – the geographical location where God speaks to you – might be anywhere. The holiness comes not from any history or tradition, but from the presence of God.
Then, there’s the task. God explains to Moses what he has in mind for him – and we need to try and listen for God’s explanation as to what he might have in mind for us.
And, if we hear it, what are we going to do? Moses said ‘no’. 4:1 – but they will never believe me or listen to what I say. How often has that been said, or similar? But when and if we feel like that, and we will sometimes – we need to bear in mind what happens through the rest of chapter 4. There are two key things here.
One is that God gives Moses some resources. Now God probably isn’t going to give us the ability to do funny things with sticks, or to turn water into blood – and actually I am quite glad about that. But there are many and abundant ways in which God does resource us.
The other thing, which is more than a resource, is that God gives Moses a colleague. Verse 14 – Do you not have a brother, Aaron the Levite? He, I know, will do all the speaking. And God adds, he is already on his way to meet you, and he will be overjoyed when he sees you. God doesn’t expect us to do it all on our own – just to play our part.
I think Moses is quite helpful and quite challenging.
Here he is, in this situation in Midian because he has committed murder. Moses is an unlikely, reluctant candidate, needing resources and support, but, when God stops him in his tracks, despite all the avoidance techniques, his ultimate response is positive.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
Thursday, 25 June 2009
Shiphrah and Puah - extraordinary midwives - Exodus 1
(With thanks to Trevor Dennis who strongly inspired these thoughts!)
The little story of Shiphrah and Puah in Exodus 1 is an amazing little incident. Here are the Israelites in Egypt, long after the time of Joseph. You remember the Joseph story. He ended up in Egypt as Potiphar’s slave, having been sold off into slavery. Falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife, who was annoyed because he wouldn’t have an affair with her, he ended up in gaol, where he gained something of a reputation as a dream-interpreter. News got round and, when the Pharaoh had some strange dreams, Joseph got called upon. Cutting a long story short, he ended up as prime minister, overseeing the preparations for the famine that he had foretold.
And it was during that famine that his family, searching for food, ended up moving to and settling in Egypt. At that time the Egyptians were more than happy to welcome the family of the one who had saved them from starvation – and Joseph and his family were re-united. For the time being it was a happy-ever-after story.
But now we have moved on a considerable period. Joseph and his contribution to the Egyptian economy has long since been forgotten. All that’s bothering this Pharaoh is the increasing number of Israelites. He’s scared that one day they’ll plan an uprising – and take over. It’s actually not very likely. They’re kept in a pretty subservient position. But this Pharaoh’s not one for taking chances. He’s scared all these Israelite baby boys will grow up to be strapping soldiers.
And so he takes a pre-emptive strike. He calls in the midwives. Now, we perhaps have to say that this story, as we have it, is a mix of the plausible and the implausible. It seems unlikely that there would have been only two midwives, and so the two specified in this story symbolise all then carrying out this profession. It also seems unlikely that Pharaoh would have given a personal audience to them, no matter how concerned he was about this issue. Surely he would have instructed one of his minions. Another thing that’s not clear is whether these midwives worked just amongst the Israelites, or amongst the Egyptians as well. But none of these elements really matter. We need to remember that this account emerges from a story-telling society and should be seen as a story told, rather than a chronicled history.
But that, in no way, diminishes the truth, nor the impact of the story, which is packed with a powerful punch. Perhaps the first amazing thing in this story is that their names are recorded, Shiphrah and Puah. In the Bible women basically take a subservient role to men. That’s not the Bible’s fault. It’s reflective of the kind of society whose story is being told. But one of the things it does mean is that relatively few women are named. This is a tiny incident in the Biblical scheme of things. It only takes a very few verses. It’s quite remarkable that we’re given the names of these two women.
Anyhow, they are given the task of dealing with this problem. What they are to do is pretty horrific. They are to ensure that any baby boys don’t survive. Baby girls are O.K. Now, actually this probably wouldn’t have been quite as horrific to the original hearers of the story as it is to us. It would not be unknown to do that to a baby. The surprise would be getting rid of a boy.
So Shiphrah and Puah are sent off to do Pharaoh’s dirty work. But they don’t want to do it. It’s against God. It’s against what they are trained for. It’s against all their instincts. It’s against everything. And so, they don’t do it. But Pharaoh has his secret police out, and he gets to know that what he’s commanded is not happening. And so he summons the midwives again and asks them to explain themselves. And what they do effectively is – they tell him a joke. They tell Pharaoh that they can’t do this because, though they get there as fast as they can whenever they hear that one of the Israelite women is going to deliver, they are always too late. These Israelite women always have their babies so quickly than it’s done and dusted by the time we get there. It’s nonsense, of course. Every midwife would know that. Every woman would know that. But old Pharaoh is not too sure. He doesn’t know much about women having babies – and it sounds plausible. Also, he quite likes the idea that the Israelite women are different from the Egyptian women. That appeals to his racism. He accepts the story, and dismisses the midwives.
Pharaoh, of course, finds another way of dealing with the problem – but that’s not our concern here. What does concern us is the amazing faith and courage of Shiphrah and Puah. In an age when the Pharaoh was regarded as divine, they were prepared to defy him, with all the attendant risks, because they were convinced that the opposite was what ought to be. Their loyalty was to God and they do not back away from deceiving Pharaoh. Their story certainly challenges us about loyalty and commitment and risk and the whole question as to whether we are ready to do those things to which God calls us without counting the cost.
The little story of Shiphrah and Puah in Exodus 1 is an amazing little incident. Here are the Israelites in Egypt, long after the time of Joseph. You remember the Joseph story. He ended up in Egypt as Potiphar’s slave, having been sold off into slavery. Falsely accused by Potiphar’s wife, who was annoyed because he wouldn’t have an affair with her, he ended up in gaol, where he gained something of a reputation as a dream-interpreter. News got round and, when the Pharaoh had some strange dreams, Joseph got called upon. Cutting a long story short, he ended up as prime minister, overseeing the preparations for the famine that he had foretold.
And it was during that famine that his family, searching for food, ended up moving to and settling in Egypt. At that time the Egyptians were more than happy to welcome the family of the one who had saved them from starvation – and Joseph and his family were re-united. For the time being it was a happy-ever-after story.
But now we have moved on a considerable period. Joseph and his contribution to the Egyptian economy has long since been forgotten. All that’s bothering this Pharaoh is the increasing number of Israelites. He’s scared that one day they’ll plan an uprising – and take over. It’s actually not very likely. They’re kept in a pretty subservient position. But this Pharaoh’s not one for taking chances. He’s scared all these Israelite baby boys will grow up to be strapping soldiers.
And so he takes a pre-emptive strike. He calls in the midwives. Now, we perhaps have to say that this story, as we have it, is a mix of the plausible and the implausible. It seems unlikely that there would have been only two midwives, and so the two specified in this story symbolise all then carrying out this profession. It also seems unlikely that Pharaoh would have given a personal audience to them, no matter how concerned he was about this issue. Surely he would have instructed one of his minions. Another thing that’s not clear is whether these midwives worked just amongst the Israelites, or amongst the Egyptians as well. But none of these elements really matter. We need to remember that this account emerges from a story-telling society and should be seen as a story told, rather than a chronicled history.
But that, in no way, diminishes the truth, nor the impact of the story, which is packed with a powerful punch. Perhaps the first amazing thing in this story is that their names are recorded, Shiphrah and Puah. In the Bible women basically take a subservient role to men. That’s not the Bible’s fault. It’s reflective of the kind of society whose story is being told. But one of the things it does mean is that relatively few women are named. This is a tiny incident in the Biblical scheme of things. It only takes a very few verses. It’s quite remarkable that we’re given the names of these two women.
Anyhow, they are given the task of dealing with this problem. What they are to do is pretty horrific. They are to ensure that any baby boys don’t survive. Baby girls are O.K. Now, actually this probably wouldn’t have been quite as horrific to the original hearers of the story as it is to us. It would not be unknown to do that to a baby. The surprise would be getting rid of a boy.
So Shiphrah and Puah are sent off to do Pharaoh’s dirty work. But they don’t want to do it. It’s against God. It’s against what they are trained for. It’s against all their instincts. It’s against everything. And so, they don’t do it. But Pharaoh has his secret police out, and he gets to know that what he’s commanded is not happening. And so he summons the midwives again and asks them to explain themselves. And what they do effectively is – they tell him a joke. They tell Pharaoh that they can’t do this because, though they get there as fast as they can whenever they hear that one of the Israelite women is going to deliver, they are always too late. These Israelite women always have their babies so quickly than it’s done and dusted by the time we get there. It’s nonsense, of course. Every midwife would know that. Every woman would know that. But old Pharaoh is not too sure. He doesn’t know much about women having babies – and it sounds plausible. Also, he quite likes the idea that the Israelite women are different from the Egyptian women. That appeals to his racism. He accepts the story, and dismisses the midwives.
Pharaoh, of course, finds another way of dealing with the problem – but that’s not our concern here. What does concern us is the amazing faith and courage of Shiphrah and Puah. In an age when the Pharaoh was regarded as divine, they were prepared to defy him, with all the attendant risks, because they were convinced that the opposite was what ought to be. Their loyalty was to God and they do not back away from deceiving Pharaoh. Their story certainly challenges us about loyalty and commitment and risk and the whole question as to whether we are ready to do those things to which God calls us without counting the cost.
Sunday, 21 June 2009
Jude on Leadership - Jude vv. 12, 13, 19, 20
Jude verses 12 and 13 and verses 19 and 20 – Jude is referring to dodgy leaders and the negative impact they can have and encouraging his readers to take a different track, and he writes:
These people are a danger at your love-feasts with their shameless carousals. They are shepherds who take care only of themselves. They are clouds carried along by a wind without giving rain, trees fruitless in autumn, dead twice over and pulled up by the roots. They are wild sea waves, foaming with disgraceful deeds; they are stars that have wandered from their courses, and the place reserved for them is an eternity of blackest darkness. ...... These people create divisions; they are worldly and unspiritual. But you, my friends, must make your most sacred faith the foundation of your lives. Continue to pray in the power of the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God, and look forward to the day when our Lord Jesus Christ in his mercy will give eternal life.
Jude is concerned about there being right leadership within the church. That’s why he bothers to scribble this note.
Here, in verses 12 and 13, we have that kind of scenario which I am sure we have all sometimes used of taking the negative approach. We say something like – well, the easiest way I can explain things is to tell you how it shouldn’t be. Jude here uses images of disordered or useless natural phenomena to press home his argument. If we were to look at the whole letter, we would see Jude moving from depicting his opponents as misguided human who rely on dreams to describing them as irrational animals – “brute beasts” – and now they exhibit the chaotic behaviour of some parts of the natural world. They are like clouds without rain, like waves that drive foam up on shore. Jude here grabs five such images and uses them to describe what leadership should not be.
First, they are described as shepherds who take care only of themselves. There is an element of brazen rejection of what should be here. They are not shepherding the sheep. They are shepherding themselves. Shepherds frequently provide a Biblical image of leadership. The shepherd models the care and investment that the leader must make for the nurture and growth of the followers. But this lot corrupt the image by being out only for themselves. Leadership is about influence and service.
The second image is equally potent – clouds carried along by a wind without giving rain. Travellers in the Middle East are often exasperated by heavy clouds which fail to produce rain and serve only to increase the excessive heat. The suggestion is that these leaders are all show and no substance. Leadership is about vision. It is about what we are going to be doing tomorrow. It’s about hope.
The third image is of trees fruitless in autumn, dead twice over and pulled up by the roots. Trees without roots are absolutely useless. They are never going to produce fruit. This again focuses on the results we might expect – but it’s not a good picture. It’s a picture of failure. Leadership should produce growth. In commercial terms, there should be a product.
Fourthly, Jude identifies this useless lot as wild sea waves, foaming with disgraceful deeds. When I lived in Panama I once ended up in a small boat in a storm being tossed around. Not an experience I would seek out. Scraps of debris collect and are cast up by the foam on the shore. It’s a picture of unharnessed power. Leadership is about power – but good leadership uses that power to produce and enhance good relationships.
And then the fifth of these images is of stars that have wandered from their courses. Ancient thought recognised that the planets moved, but they did so in set and fixed patterns. Comets and meteorites were rather terrifying phenomena, apparently out of control. Leaders can be like shooting stars, streaking on to the scene with flash and excitement, but quickly fading and disappearing. Quick fix leadership doesn’t really do what’s necessary. Leadership needs to be about accountability and dependability.
These people are a danger at your love-feasts with their shameless carousals. They are shepherds who take care only of themselves. They are clouds carried along by a wind without giving rain, trees fruitless in autumn, dead twice over and pulled up by the roots. They are wild sea waves, foaming with disgraceful deeds; they are stars that have wandered from their courses, and the place reserved for them is an eternity of blackest darkness. ...... These people create divisions; they are worldly and unspiritual. But you, my friends, must make your most sacred faith the foundation of your lives. Continue to pray in the power of the Holy Spirit. Keep yourselves in the love of God, and look forward to the day when our Lord Jesus Christ in his mercy will give eternal life.
Jude is concerned about there being right leadership within the church. That’s why he bothers to scribble this note.
Here, in verses 12 and 13, we have that kind of scenario which I am sure we have all sometimes used of taking the negative approach. We say something like – well, the easiest way I can explain things is to tell you how it shouldn’t be. Jude here uses images of disordered or useless natural phenomena to press home his argument. If we were to look at the whole letter, we would see Jude moving from depicting his opponents as misguided human who rely on dreams to describing them as irrational animals – “brute beasts” – and now they exhibit the chaotic behaviour of some parts of the natural world. They are like clouds without rain, like waves that drive foam up on shore. Jude here grabs five such images and uses them to describe what leadership should not be.
First, they are described as shepherds who take care only of themselves. There is an element of brazen rejection of what should be here. They are not shepherding the sheep. They are shepherding themselves. Shepherds frequently provide a Biblical image of leadership. The shepherd models the care and investment that the leader must make for the nurture and growth of the followers. But this lot corrupt the image by being out only for themselves. Leadership is about influence and service.
The second image is equally potent – clouds carried along by a wind without giving rain. Travellers in the Middle East are often exasperated by heavy clouds which fail to produce rain and serve only to increase the excessive heat. The suggestion is that these leaders are all show and no substance. Leadership is about vision. It is about what we are going to be doing tomorrow. It’s about hope.
The third image is of trees fruitless in autumn, dead twice over and pulled up by the roots. Trees without roots are absolutely useless. They are never going to produce fruit. This again focuses on the results we might expect – but it’s not a good picture. It’s a picture of failure. Leadership should produce growth. In commercial terms, there should be a product.
Fourthly, Jude identifies this useless lot as wild sea waves, foaming with disgraceful deeds. When I lived in Panama I once ended up in a small boat in a storm being tossed around. Not an experience I would seek out. Scraps of debris collect and are cast up by the foam on the shore. It’s a picture of unharnessed power. Leadership is about power – but good leadership uses that power to produce and enhance good relationships.
And then the fifth of these images is of stars that have wandered from their courses. Ancient thought recognised that the planets moved, but they did so in set and fixed patterns. Comets and meteorites were rather terrifying phenomena, apparently out of control. Leaders can be like shooting stars, streaking on to the scene with flash and excitement, but quickly fading and disappearing. Quick fix leadership doesn’t really do what’s necessary. Leadership needs to be about accountability and dependability.
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