WHAT’S IN A NAME

Exodus 3:1-15
Matthew 16:21-28

St. Andrew's-Wesley United Church

Rev. Gary Paterson

August 31, 2008

To be a preacher is to be a packrat of words, images, one-liners, jokes, insights, newspaper articles, clippings. You should watch me read the Saturday “Globe and Mail”, scissors perched on the chair beside me… just in case, you know? Last night I was with friends for supper, and half way through the evening, one of them turned to me, and said, “Now, none of what get’s said here is going to turn up in a Sunday sermon, right?” I have an entire filing cabinet filled with “Sermon Stuff”; and my handy dandy notebook is always close at hand.

All of which is a very good thing when said minister returns from a three week holiday, and faces the daunting task of preparing for a rapidly approaching Sunday morning, wondering, “Sermons… what’s a sermon? How ever do they get written? How do they come together?” Perhaps if one were simply to read the assigned Scripture passages over and over? And over and over… But then, you remember that notebook! And you flip through the pages, pondering, letting your “right brain” kick into gear. Sometimes it’s called inspiration… the working of the Spirit; sometimes it’s called wasting time; sometimes desperation. But it’s surprising what comes up!

So here’s one… carefully recorded in the notebook; no author noted…so it remains unfairly anonymous … but there you are. A simple two-liner:

We will not find what we refuse to seek;

We will not do what we refuse to dare.

Seems commonsense, of course; but there is a challenge in all those verbs – seek and find; dare and do.

I invite you to hold onto this… “ We will not find what we refuse to seek; we will not do what we refuse to dare.” … and allow it to become a way of entering into one of the great stories of the Bible, Moses and the Burning Bush – a turning point in the unfolding of the story of Israel; a pivotal call, an annunciation, a revelation. It’s the stuff of movies… remember how Cecil B. DeMille, in “The Ten Commandments,” filmed Charlton Heston, his jaw dropping onto the desert sands as he stared at a bush that blazed with fire but was never consumed; sure, it’s hokey and dated, but it still can make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Or maybe some of you prefer Walt Disney’s “Prince of Egypt”, with the power of animation filling the screen with eerie flames and spooky voices. You know something weird and holy is happening!

But first a little background. You remember the story of Moses, how his life seems to fall into three phases. First, his beginning in Egypt, the son of Hebrew slaves… which meant a death sentence. But he was miraculously saved, adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter, and lived as a pampered young man enjoying all the privileges and power of the upper class. Until one day he discovered his roots, his true identity. Talk about an adolescent crisis! He ended up killing an Egyptian taskmaster who was beating an Israelite slave – which quickly resulted in his needing to flee Egypt, a murderer, a man on the run with a price on his head.

Second phase… he found himself in the land of Midian, just to the west of Egypt; got himself a fine wife, Zipporah by name. Ended up with kids; and flocks of sheep – his father-in-law was a wealthy man. It was easy to forget about Egypt – life was predictable, comfortable, pastoral. And that’s when it happened!

On an ordinary day, on an ordinary hill Moses happened to glance to his left and …well, remember how the Bible described the moment:

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he look, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed.”

Perhaps in later years Moses would find himself wondering what would have happened if he hadn’t caught sight of the bush; or if he had dismissed it as the effect of a long day, a bit of sunstroke; or if he had looked at his watch, and realized that he was late for dinner, and Zipporah would be giving him a piece of her mind! But that’s not what happened; instead we hear this simple phrase: “Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and see this great sight….” That’s the moment, no? We will not find what we refuse to seek; we will not do what we refuse to dare. Moses turned aside… and discovered a miracle.

Oh, I would surely understand if he hadn’t turned aside. I think we do that all the time. We know all about busy-ness on this Labour Day weekend as we reluctantly leave the slow days of summer, even if there’s been too much grey wetness, and plunge into the hectic routines of fall. The final few days of the PNE; the shopping sprees as mothers and fathers drag reluctant young offspring to the shopping malls for school supplies and new outfits; as so many of us take a deep breath, saying wistfully, that was the summer that was, but now… real life. Newspapers are predicting a 25% increase in commuter traffic for Tuesday; people are once again clutching their blackberries and cell phones. We are a busy, busy culture! Who on earth has time to turn aside and see great sights? No, by the time we end our long, full days there is often only energy to “veg” out … turn on the TV; have another drink; get into an argument with the spouse. We are distracted, but not delighted; busy, but not filled. Oh, here’s another notebook entry for you… this one has a name attached to it – Hafiz, a 14th century Persian mystic:

Learn to recognize to the counterfeit coins

that can buy you just a few moments of pleasure

and then drag you for days

like a broken man

behind a farting camel.

Now there’s an image for you. I wondered about using “that word” in church… but Lord, it felt so apt; so true. Is that where you find yourself on too many occasions? Do you need a burning bush or two to clear the air?

Maybe, on this final day of August, we need to remember the grace of summer days that allowed us more time, more space, more freedom, so that we, indeed, were able to turn aside and discover the burning bushes that were lurking on just about every hillside, if only we had time to see. There was a moment on Pender Island, in conversation with friends, when suddenly a neighbouring voice shouted, “The whales, the whales are coming.” and we all raced to the shoreline, and soon the orcas were splashing through the waves, full of black and white grace. And as we watched, not fifty feet from shore a mother of an orca spy-hopped, pushing her snout straight up above the water’s surface, and, it seemed to me, stared straight at me… going eyeball to eyeball, as if to say, take notice; pay attention; there’s a mystery in this ocean.

Or there was that moment with my granddaughter Abigail as together we buried a black beetle… a beetle that she had squished, casually squeezing out its life… and then, full of wonder and surprise to find it dead. How do you talk to a three year old about death and life, bugs and funerals, killing and mercy? There was a strange holiness in that moment.

Another burning bush… down at that little beach at the west end of English Bay, just as you officially hit Stanley Park. It’s a great place for a summer swim… yes, there were a couple of hot days in early August. Well, there I was, refreshed, relaxed… the body in… well, in adequate shape. I was watching an old lady stumbling down to the edge of the water, clutching tightly to her cane; a woman whose aging flesh had moved out sideways, and then down.. Hair grey, stringy and disheveled. Looked like she might fall flat on her face at any moment. Not particularly attractive… it’s what we’re all going to look like near the end… don’t kid yourself you twenty year olds. But then she hit the water, and plunged in… and all of a sudden she became a creature of grace, bobbing up and down in the waves like a most amazing orca; buoyant, free, graceful; her hair flowing behind her. It looked as if she never wanted to come out; this was her home. What a glory to behold.

But hey, you don’t need me to go on and on about my summer holidays. You know what I’m talking about. As the poet Mary Oliver said (on another page in my trusty notebook):

It doesn’t have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention….

That’s it, right? Just pay attention. We will not find what we refuse to seek… turn aside, pay attention; and listen to what voices arise from the burning bush that is flaring just to your left. Every moment is holy; every creature is full of God… the orca, the beetle, the little granddaughter, the old woman. God is at the heart of every leaf and stone; every quark and electron; a pulsing energy, the power of being, shifting, changing, burning bright. What better image of this strange sacred power than a bush that burns but is never consumed! When we walk through the world knowing that we can become the receiving end of energy arcs, that seek to be grounded, that can be transformed into consciousness, then we will hear the voice of God.

What is more, when we dare to seek, when we turn aside, when we pay attention, then we not only are filled with wonder and amazement, but we enter into a “silence in which another voice may speak”… that’s Mary Oliver again. A silence in which another voice may speak; not your own voice; not the chattering, nattering that comes from busyness; not the droning of distraction that puts you to sleep. No… the voice of God. Did you notice… “When the LORD saw that he [Moses] turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!”

Now this is where the story gets really interesting, suggesting that when we pay attention, when we dare to seek… what we might find is ourselves; or, at least, we will hear ourselves named by that which is beyond us. This strange, blazing energy seeks connection, is hungry for relationship. This sacred Holiness, although not a Person, is yet personal… and reaches out to each and every one of us, and in the very act of naming, affirms that each human, every living creature, is, in fact, unique and special, and is an embodiment of holy energy. It’s burning bush speaking to burning bush … so to speak.

To be named… that is an act of paying attention; the recognition of particularity. Names are important. Maybe it shouldn’t be that way, but it just is. I am Gary… and that’s with one “r”; Gary Paterson, and that’s with one “t”. And that’s important to me. We want to be remembered, to be known by name.

O Romeo, Romeo,

Wherefore art thou Romeo?

That which we call a rose by any other name

Would smell as sweet. So Romeo would

Were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection

Which is his own without that name.

O Romeo, doff thy name… and for than name,

Which is not part of thee, take all myself.

Love that balcony scene; ever since Grade 10 English, it’s stuck with me. But Juliet is wrong of course; you can’t doff your name, drop the past, hide you who are. In some ways that’s what Shakespeare’s play is all about. And the Bible knows this… it’s full of moments of naming…. Adam naming all the creatures of the world; the voice of God calling in the night, “Samuel, Samuel”; all the name changes… Simon to Peter, Saul to Paul; Jesus calling out, “Mary”, “Zaccheus”; the prophet Isaiah speaking with a Holy Voice – “I have called you by name, you are mine.”

This is when Moses gets determined; he wants to know God’s name… to get some sense of who or what this burning bush energy is. He wants something more than just being told, “I am the God of your ancestors…”…. He wants something deeper, more revealing, more personal… sort of like hearing all the words in church, and yet remaining hungry for something more… what is your name, who are you God? Well, Moses gets an answer… sort of… “I AM WHO I AM”. That’s about the best translation we can come up with when confronted by those four Hebrew consonants, YHWH… Yahweh, Jehovah… I am who I am; or perhaps, “I will be who I will be” … which isn’t really all that helpful, other than to tell us, perhaps, to mind our own business. Imagine being at a party… you know, the old hand-shaking routine… “Hi, my name is Gary.” And the stranger responds with a knowing smile… “I am who I am.” It’s a conversation stopper; trust me. Try it sometime, and see what happens.

Mystery, freedom… the God who can’t really be defined, pinned down, caught by our language. And yet, and yet… it’s something; it’s not nothing. It is, at least, a voice; and it comes with a promise -- for this Holy Voice also says to Moses, “I will be with you.” You may not know exactly who God is; you may be stunned by burning bushes when they flare up in front of your attentive nose… but the voice speaks (though have you ever tried to imagine what it sounded like? --a whisper on the wind; an inner speaking, dream-like; an endless roar like surf rolling in?... whatever). The voice speaks – “Iam who I am” reaches out to each and every one of us, naming us, terrifying us perhaps, but including us… and sustaining us… “I will be with you.”

But in fact, you do catch a further glimpse of who or what this God is all about… not through the name, really, but in what Moses is asked to do. Burning bushes aren’t just about providing us with a moment of amazement – when we are named, addressed, well, we can sense that something is asked of us. We jumped over that part of the story in the rush to discover God’s name, but let’s backtrack for a moment. Once God knows that Moses is truly paying attention, then something else begins to happen:

The LORD said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their suffering, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey…. So come, I will send you [Moses] to Pharaoh to bring my people … out of Egypt.”

There it is folks – this great power of being, this Holy Energy, the “I am who I am” desires nothing less than the full liberation of life. Freedom; the end of slavery; the opportunity for every human being to flourish. And I would expand that to include all living creatures; in fact, I wonder if God’s energy is yearning for the liberation of every atom, if that makes sense.

Now I suspect that most of us have never had a moment quite like the one that Moses seems to have experienced. And I will admit that in my younger years, I found that frustrating: “Make yourself clear, God; give me a challenge; light my way!” But now, I’m not so cocky. I suspect that I have avoided a lot of burning bushes precisely because I don’t want to be addressed and invited into the work of liberation. It usually tends to be pretty costly work… cross-bearing, and all that. But I also am convinced that we humans won’t be content unless we allow that invitation to work itself into the centre of our being, until we find ourselves on fire, ourselves involved in the liberation of life… maybe not the big jobs of overthrowing Pharaoh, but in every moment that comes our way. Here’s where the notebook comes in handy again… this time words from that great rabbi, Abraham Heschel:

Over and above personal problems there is an objective challenge to overcome inequality, injustice, helplessness, suffering, carelessness, oppression. Over and above the din of desires there is a calling, a demanding, a waiting, an expectation. There is a question that follows me wherever I turn. What is expected of me? What is demanded? What we encounter is not only flowers and stars, mountains and walls. Over and above all things is a sublime expectation, a waiting for. With every child born a new expectation enters the world. This is the most important experience in the life of every human being: something is asked of me. Every human being has had a moment in which he/she has sensed a mysterious meaning waiting for him/her. Meaning is found in sensing the demand; meaning is found in responding to the demand. (from Who Is Man?)

That’s a lot of words; it’s why notebooks are useful to have. With every child born there is a new possibility, a new expectation. For each person sitting in these pews… there is a calling, an invitation to offer up your unique embodiment of holy energy as part of God’s vision of the fullness of life. And if you don’t… well, you’re not only shortchanging God, and creation… you’re short-changing yourself. What was it that Jesus said, “For what will it profit [a person] if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?” Exactly! And remember where we began… We will not find if we refuse to seek; we will not do if we refuse to dare.

Not Moses… no… but Gary, and Pam and Emily and Gordon and Curt and June and… everyone of us, with our own burning bushes, the voice calling, the mystery of the great “I Am” inviting us into a vast movement of liberation. And the most amazing thing is, that when we say yes, even in our fitful, stumbling ways, with all our excuses, and turning away, our busyness, our distractions bought with counterfeit coins… despite all of that, we have the possibility of ourselves becoming burning bushes, on fire for God. And when that happens, who knows what we might see when we look long and deeply in the mirror; who knows what someone else might see when the energy of God flares up in us. Listen to this poem… thank you notebook and Mary Oliver:

When I am among the trees

especially the willows and the honey locust,

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,

they give off such hints of gladness.

I could almost say that they save me, and daily.

 

I am so distant from the hope of myself

in which I have goodness, and discernment,

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

 

Around me the trees stir in their leaves

and call out, “Stay awhile.”

The light flows from their branches.

 

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,

“and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled

with light, and to shine.”

So friends… go easy, be filled with light, be filled with God. And then shine; oh yes, shine brightly. For we will not find what we refuse to seek; we will not do what we refuse to dare. And God will be with us always.