Providential Particularity

Exodus 3:1-15

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 Mount Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Then 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 sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land to a good and spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. Now go, I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.”

But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’ ” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’:

This is my name forever,
and this my title for all generations.

Sermon

This is one of the most imaginative scenes of our Bibles — I don’t mean that because it’s fake or simply metaphorical, but because its imagery and brilliance has captivated and illuminated our hearts for thousands of years. The biblical text is so descriptive and vivid that it’s easy to be teleported into its narrative, and we often have a habit of finding ourselves standing right next to Moses as this encounter with God unfolds.

And quite often, when we place ourselves in this text so easily and quickly, we leave a little more than footprints in it. When we stand next to Moses and watch this scene unfold in our minds’ eyes, we often put a little bit of ourselves into this text where it doesn’t belong.

When we feel as if we’re unlikely characters in God’s story, we find ourselves thinking of Moses as an unlikely character in God’s story.

When we feel unequipped to live in a complicated, hard, upside-down world, we find ourselves thinking Moses was just as unequipped to live in a complicated, hard, upside-down world.

It’s really natural to read a little bit of ourselves into Moses. But when we do so, we miss a little bit of grace that’s woven into the text.

Here, Moses might not be as unlikely or unequipped for this calling as we might assume, or Moses himself might assume. When Moses questions God, he says “Who am I that I should go?” And we sometimes take that as a sign that Moses is completely green, wet-behind-the-ears, and unprepared for this crucible awaiting him.

But if we remember back to last Sunday, we heard about Moses’ strange origin. He was delivered by midwives who betrayed and protested Pharaoh. He was then kept in secret by his mother, who hid him away for three months. Then, when he grew to be too unruly to hide, Moses’ mother placed him into a papyrus basket—an ark—to keep him safe along the banks of the Nile. It was Pharoah’s daughter who then found Moses, knew that he was indeed Hebrew, and adopted him as a member of Pharaoh’s household.

So Moses was no ordinary fellow. He was raised in the royal household—the very household of the gods—and received its unique privileges. He likely received an education that surpassed that of other Egyptians, let alone the enslaved Hebrew people. Moses was given responsibility and authority, possessing the social capital of Egypt’s ruling class.

Later, when Moses is found helping a group of foreign Midianites, the biblical text says that they call him who he is: Moses is an Egyptian. Just as he is a Hebrew.

So in today’s passage, as Moses is standing at this burning bush, and as God calls him, Moses is not some scraggly, unkempt nobody. He’s not some random, ordinary Hebrew, or some sort of everyman. No; Moses is uniquely equipped for this task God is giving him. Moses’ identity—who he is, and where he has been—is exactly what undergirds this remarkable call. Moses is exactly who he needs to be for this calling God is giving him.

Yes, Moses will grow as he heeds this calling from God. But he is already equipped for the journey ahead, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.

He might still ask “Who am I that I should go?” But the answer is clear: you are exactly who you need to be.

What we see here is that God’s calling to Moses is rooted in his particularity. It’s rooted in his unique identity, and skills, and experiences, and relationships. It is rooted in the ways Moses is already equipped and gifted; it is rooted in this providence of God that has been strung throughout his life.

This is true for us and our callings, too.

God has strung experiences, and relationships, and skills, and gifts throughout our lives, from the very time we took our first breath. We are particular people, who are directed and nestled in the providence of God. This particularity and our identities are where God’s calling begins.

“Moses’ identity—who he is, and where he has been—is exactly what undergirds this remarkable call. Moses is exactly who he needs to be for this calling God is giving him.”

Oftentimes, when we feel rudderless or that we’re lacking in purpose, we start to question what our calling might be. We start wondering what God is calling us to do in this world. And similarly often, we start asking “what are the greatest needs in the world around me?” After all, we want to play a role in God’s mission! We want to live out our faith, or make a difference, or impact our neighbors’ lives for the better.

But when we focus on this single dimension of calling, we forget what we see in Moses’ own calling. We start to pick callings out of a hat, and start conflating the Holy Spirit with the voice of American individualism. We start thinking that we can be anything and do anything and fix anything and that we are called to anything we want, because God will surely “equip those that God calls.”

In doing so, we forget about our particularity. We forget that our calling begins in the identity God has given to us. We forget that we live in a particular time, in a particular place, with particular skills, and particular resources at our disposal. We forget that though we might have the faith to move mountains, we are also limited and finite in who we are. And most ironically, we forget that though we will grow into our calling, God has made us exactly who we need to be in order to fulfill our callings faithfully.

“God has strung experiences, and relationships, and skills, and gifts throughout our lives, from the very time we took our first breath.…This particularity and our identities are where God’s calling begins.”

None of us are called to save an entire people from Egypt. All of us are called to things a lot smaller, but nonetheless, holy.

You might not be very good with kids, but maybe you’re good at patching a hole in the wall. There might be a calling there.

You might not be very good at swinging a hammer, but maybe you’re good at listening to others. There might be a calling there.

You might not be very good at listening, but maybe you’re good at showing up with a casserole in hand. There might be a calling there.

It’s not about what calling is greater or more important than any other. There’s no such thing as a greater or more important calling than someone else’s. Because each calling is God’s calling. And it is the one God has given to you, and you alone.

You all are intelligent. And openhearted. And beloved by God. And God has placed a calling upon every single one of you that is unique and important and holy.

…

When you embrace your particularity, you will also start to see the thread of providence running through your life. What I mean by that is in God’s providence—in God’s 10,000-foot movement throughout history and our lives—in that providence, nothing is wasted.

Moses’ origin story is admittedly violent and traumatic. There was nothing good, or holy, or sacred about the evil that saturated the world in his origin story. But this calamitous inception is also part of Moses’ particularity, identity, and personal story. And God uses every single ounce of that particularity for the good of all creation. God finds a way to take evil and turn it against itself for the good of all people.

So one’s calling doesn’t begin with pretend, but with particularity. Calling begins with all of who you are, and all of your uniqueness and all those experiences in your past. It even begins with the parts of you that don’t quite fit into the box, or others don’t quite know what to do with. It begins with your belovedness and God’s movement in your life from the day you took your first breath, to this very moment.

Like Moses, you might ask “who am I that I should go?”

But the answer is simple: You are exactly who you need to be.

Now go and listen, answer, chase the call.

Amen.