“Show Me the Beef”

A sermon by The Rev. Keenan Kelsey
Noe Valley Ministry, Presbyterian Church (USA)
October 16, 2005

Text: Exodus 33:12-23

¹² Moses said to God Almighty, ‘See, you have said to me, “Bring up this people”; but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, “I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.” ¹³ Now if I have found favor in your sight, show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favor in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.’ ¹⁴ God said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.’ ¹⁵ And he said to God, ‘If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here. ¹⁶ For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people, unless you go with us? In this way, we shall be distinct, I and your people, from every people on the face of the earth.” ¹⁷ The Holy One said to Moses, ‘I will do the very thing that you have asked; for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.’ ¹⁸ Moses said, ‘Show me your glory, I pray.’ ¹⁹ And Yahweh said, ‘I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you my name, and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. ²⁰ But’, he said, ‘you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.’ ²¹ And God Almighty continued, ‘See, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; ²² and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; ²³ then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.’

THIS PAST TUESDAY was a gift: a Tuesday evening with no meetings! As it happened, I managed to fill the time quite well. For I was able to hurry over to St. Luke's and be with my daughter as she delivered her second son. Twenty-one years ago, I had the amazing privilege of witnessing the birth of my nephew, my sister's child, and I had always longed for another chance to be at a birth. Megan and baby Sam timed things perfectly for me, as he arrived about 9:15 that evening.

Just like Moses, I sat in the cleft of a rock, and watched God pass by. I watched as God did God's work. The miracle of creation unfolded before me, the miracle of life emerging, as Samuel pushed into the world, his coned head tucked against his chest, finally easing out, then his right shoulder edging through, then the left, as the rest of him slid easily after.. I saw God's stamp on this tiny creature. I marveled at Megan's focus and determination and trust in the process, at her body's response in stretching and pushing. I was part of the indescribable joy and wonder and awe and love that took over that room The perfect image of God. A peek at the glory of God.

I knew I had been yearning to be present at Sam's birth. What I did not realize what how much I had also been yearning for some sort of sign, some renewed guarantee or at least evidence that God is indeed still with us in this world--that, as the UCC says, God is still speaking. I wanted to be reminded that in the book of life, God uses commas where we see periods.

Back in the 60's when avant-garde plays defined theater in New York’s Greenwich Village, I remember a friend describing one where the curtain rises to show the dimly-lit interior of a theater. There on the stage sit a group of people waiting for a curtain to rise. A ripple of amused laughter washes across the auditorium at the obvious irony of watching actors engage in the very activity which had occupied the audience only moments earlier. However, when this second curtain is lifted, it displays still another group sitting in front of yet another curtain. People begin to grow restless and uncertain, as if they had just been invited to bring sand to the beach. Finally, the third curtain rises, only to reveal a fourth -- prompting a few in the original audience to turn around in their seats to see whether, without realizing it, they too are sitting on a stage somewhere.

So it is, I think, with many of the stories of Scripture. In some mysterious way, their struggles and successes seem to resonate with our own. Indeed, the parallels are often so striking that, just when we believe ourselves seated safely out in the audience, we too may take to wondering whose story is actually being presented up there in front of the footlights. Is this someone else's or is it, in fact, ours?

The rather compelling conversation between Moses and Yahweh that Joann read is one of these stories. The stage setting is the foot of Mount Sinai. In the previous act, the people of Israel -- irked and confused by Moses' long absence -- had shamelessly constructed the infamous Golden Calf. And with understandable anger, the Lord God had thundered down from the mist-shrouded heights of Sinai, " I will not go up among you, or I would consume you on the way, for you are a stiff-necked people" (Exodus 33:3).

Now the curtain rises again and there kneels Moses, shielding his eyes as he strains to look out upon the pillar of cloud which swirls ominously before the entrance of his tent. He begins carefully: "See, you have said to me, 'Bring up this people'; but you have not let me know whom you will send with me" (Exodus 33:12a). But soon he presses his point harder: "If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here." Then he moves to one of the shortest but perhaps most arrogant demands in all the Bible: "Now show me your glory." "Hey God. Live up to your end of the deal. We've held up our end! Show me the beef!"

For someone who once complained of being "slow of tongue," Moses evidently has little trouble speaking bluntly with God. Back at the burning bush, introductions were exchanged; now Moses wants intentions to be spelled out. Frankly, if Yahweh is going no further, then Israel need not even bother to ask. There simply is nowhere for God's people to go from here, because without the Lord in their midst, there is no people of God. Trying to reach the Promised Land as orphans would be as futile as climbing stairs of sand!

Out in the audience, a few of us lean forward hoping to discern Moses' expression. Is he searching for reassurance, like a scolded child tearfully standing at the doorway of his parents' room? Or is this the echo of a much earlier confession: Who am I that I should go? Are these words punctuated with a weary sigh, demanded with an overlay of fear or anger, or voiced with the teasing inquiry of a knowing smile, in an almost playful, "Now-I-was-just-wondering" tone? It's kind of hard to tell from where we are seated. Others hold their breath, waiting for God's response. Has Moses gone too far? How will God respond? Everyone in the audience moves to the edges of their seats, for more than ever, this is becoming our story as well.

In the confusion and frustration of our life journey, do we not all yearn, indeed strain, to see God's glory?

On the world stage, it is easy to feel deserted by God - In the wake of hurricane disaster in Central America and earthquakes in Pakistan/India, there's still the residual waves of American disaster, and the continuing needs in Indonesia. Every day, someone's kid gets killed in Iraq. And someone’s child dies of hunger or AIDS in Africa. Nationally, we are wondering if Harriet Meirs is more than a nice, smart lady who is an evangelical who knows President Bush. Religion and politics continue to be a volatile mix- dangerous and troubled waters: a Papal Council is meeting, in Rome, and considering, among other things, the potential "muscle" that they might have to apply to politicians who advance and support policies at variance with the teachings and doctrine of the Roman church. In Afghanistan and Iraq, real questions about the place and authority of religious leaders as forces that be in the political sphere, complicate the writing of constitutions and the progress of democracy. American foreign policy, extended through their control of the IMF and World Bank, is being actively used to advance the pro-life, anti-birth-control cause as a condition of foreign aid- doctrine of the religious right wing dictating government and world policy.

Even here in this church, we strain to see God's glory, to see signs of God‘s presence, God’s blessing. We’ve got several people facing the end of life; our attendance is down – Some people I talk to here seem to have a sense that we have "crested", that we may not have the energy to go on. Pledges are below expectations, and we are facing a huge capital campaign project.

We could spend all day citing examples. Moses’ demand is our demand: are you here God? Show us!

How wonderful it would be if we could have a simple text from the Bible, better yet, a word spoken by Jesus himself, with some definitive line of demarcation whereby we could confidently say ah, here is God's glory, here is where God passes by, here is my guidance. In the Talmud, it says, "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it." We're not the first people who have been overwhelmed by the tremendous needs of the world. The Jewish sages thought about it deeply, talked about it thoroughly, of this we can be absolutely certain, and they simply said, do what you can. Do what you can.

In the Gospel Jesus is a little more obtuse: "Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are God's." Would that it were so easy as that. It is very tricky to sort out that which is our political obligation from that which is our divine calling. (With a special election coming up in less than a month, the question is even more relevant.) Certainly we are called, over and over, to a robust involvement in the politics of our day, but the answers, like Jesus answer, are always a work in progress, an ongoing discernment.

William Willimon, a Bishop of the United Methodist Church, writes, "I can't tell you exactly where the line lies. I can't tell you in every case what belongs to Caesar and what is God's. All I can do is pray that God will grant you the grace to be permanently uneasy (and vigilant, ever-questioning the morals and ethical implications of what either church or state might propose or do)." We will spend more time with the Gospel passage next month. For today, it’s enough to ask the question, knowing that we need God's presence to sort out the answer. It is enough to know, to trust, that God is with us.

Yahweh tells Moses, “You can't begin to know or understand all of me.” Like trying to drink from a waterfall, the unveiled glory of God would simply overwhelm us. And that is precisely what our God refuses to do. For what faith would there be in a world where the Creator intruded with such force as to give us no choices but to believe? What freedom would there be in a world where there was no alternative but to follow? But we are shown signs of the Divine Presence: the peace we encounter, for example, in an early morning walk on some secluded beach as the waves quietly stitch a ribbon of shells into the sand, or the overwhelming awe of holding a newborn child -- the tiny arms wrestling with the air, as if trying to grasp the very world which has awakened so suddenly around them.

Ultimately, I suppose, this is exactly what we experience in the person of Jesus Christ -- not how God looks, but who God is. Or as Edmund Steimle once expressed it: in the One who dwelt among us, full of grace and truth, we see "God's afterglow." In the One who healed the sick and fed the hungry, we view the footprints of God. In the One who forgave sinners and befriended outcasts, we find evidence of how God acts in a broken and hurting world. Indeed, through the One who died in our stead -- taking upon weary shoulders the burden of human life at its lowest ebb -- we are finally shown all that we could ever hope to bear: the hidden backside of God stretched out up on a lonely cross.

Like Moses, we seek God. And in our discernment, we use prayer, and God promises presence and power. Real power, then, is when the glory of God comes into the hearts of humankind and there is placed in effect the transformation of the human heart and will. And this can only happen if we remember and believe and live as though, God is surely with us. Do you believe in the consistent presence of God in your life?.

In this world, in its state of diversity and complexity, we need to keep in touch with our Maker, our creator, redeemer, sustainer. None of us possess the ability or the savvy to make it on our own merit. May we continue to call on and claim the presence of God in our lives.