Proper 25
Year A
Deuteronomy 34:1-12
Preached in New Albany, IN
Hearing the passage today from Deuteronomy is a little unsettling. Moses is taken to the land of Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, where he gets to look at the Promised Land and then be told or reminded “you don’t get to go there.” It really does seem, well, just wrong. How can God, our loving, caring, faithful God do this to one of His most faithful and dependable servants?
Looking way back to the end of Exodus 2, remember that Moses defended a Hebrew who was being beaten by an Egyptian and all he got for that was the Hebrews turning on him. He fled from Egypt and settled in the land of Midian presumably to live out his life taking care of his father-in-laws flock. God, however, had other plans. God called Moses to deliver his people from the Egyptians (Exodus 3:9). Needless to say, Moses is less than an enthusiastic about this endeavor. Back and forth the two go, and Moses obeys and goes. Then for forty years he has to travel through the desert and put up with these grumbling, never satisfied, whiney Israelites. Not only does he put up with them, but he repeatedly defends them to God—over and over and over. Seems like he deserves a little more than just a view.
Commentators far more knowledgeable than I, have for years tried to figure out why Moses was not permitted into the Promised Land. There are two points of view. The first is that Moses is being punished for not showing God’s holiness. You can look this up in Numbers 20, but basically the Israelites were fussing at Moses and Aaron because they didn’t have water (just an aside—their sister Miriam had just died), but still despite their grief, Moses and Aaron intervened for the people. And here is where Moses messed up. God told Moses to hold the staff and command water to come from the rock. Instead, Moses struck the rock with the staff. (water did come out) But God said to Moses, “Because you did not trust in me, to show my holiness before the eyes of the Israelites, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” That seems quite drastic in light of all the things Moses has done. Where is the grace? Where is the forgiveness? Where is the understanding? Where is the fairness—these people did things far worse for crying out loud!?!?
The second thought by commentators is that Moses takes the sins of the people on himself—he dies outside of the promised land in order that the Israelites may enter it. This still doesn’t sit really well, but we can understand it a little better. Frankly it fits a bit better into our cultural thinking. The leader is ultimately responsible, the buck stops here. Its part of being a leader—the risk of being a leader. Not only that, it actually elevates Moses’ character—he’s the suffering servant, he’s self giving, he’s loyal to the people. For those of you who would rather go with this thought process, look at Deuteronomy 1:37; 3:26; and 4:21.
The bottom line is that Moses doesn’t get to enter the Promised land. He doesn’t get to close the deal—and if we looked at this from the 21st century perspective, it looks a little like he failed. He was good, but not quite good enough. Moses must pass the reins onto Joshua who gets to lead the people into the Promised Land. Someone else will be remembered as finishing the job.
Some of you may remember the Iranian hostage crisis which lasted from 1979-Jan. 20 1981—444 days. I wasn’t yet at an age where I understood or even really cared about politics. I couldn’t have told you whether my parents were democrats or republicans, BUT I can remember thinking how unfair it was that 20 minutes after Reagan gave his Inauguration address, the hostages were released and everyone started talking about what a great president he was. Carter didn’t close the deal—, he’s not remembered for the months of effort he put into getting a release--today’s passage feels a little bit like that to me.
Let’s be honest with ourselves. We want to be, we value more, we remember more, we honor more, those who bring something to its successful completion. Look back to the beginnings of our country—George Washington, the greatly revered and honored general who closed the deal in the American Revolution was elected the first President. Look back even further in the beginnings of our own church. Thomas Cranmer was a leader in the English Reformation, he helped build a case for Henry VIII’s dissolution of marriage from Catherine of Aragon, and guess what he was named (with the help of Anne Boleyn’s family) the new Archbishop of Canterbury. Now I’m not denying these were great men or that they didn’t deserve the honors bestowed upon them—we have our prayer book because of Cranmer, but I am pointing out that we look for movers and shakers who make things happen. (Just don’t read ahead to what eventually happens to Cranmer).
Looking at the 21st century, don’t we still have these thoughts? Isn’t a common thought; a common goal to “make a name for yourself.” And you certainly don’t do that by coming in second—We tell our children participating in sports—work hard and maybe you’ll get named captain—our children in school—work hard—be valedictorian. Don’t give up until you’ve reached your goals—fulfilled your dreams. You can be anything you want to be if you just try hard enough. Well, that’s what we say to ourselves and to others, but I would venture to guess there is not a person here who doesn’t know the pain of disappointment or unfulfilled dreams. So, how do we live with that? Is God taking us to the top of the mountain and showing us what could have been and then saying, but not for you? Thanks for giving your best effort; I’ll let someone else take over from here.
Moses is taken to the top of Mount Nebo and shown the land that God swore to Abraham, Isaac, and to Jacob—God is keeping His promise. God shows this land to Moses, and Moses sees the beginning of the fulfillment of the promise. I think it’s worth noting that Moses doesn’t argue with God; he doesn’t plead his case. And we know he is perfectly capable of doing that. Just two weeks ago we heard how he pleaded for the Israelites when God wanted to punish them for the Golden calf incident. Moses in this moment is leaving between the now and the not yet. And Moses is choosing to live in this moment with acceptance. Moses has done the work God gave for him to do, and now he must step aside, gracefully and confidently knowing that he has been all he could be, that he has faithfully done what God has required of him. He accepts that God has remained faithful to him and he has lived his life faithfully to God in all that he has done. It can’t have been easy.
We too are living in the moment of the now and the not yet. The Kingdom of God is coming but it is not here yet. How do we as a faithful body live our lives in this moment—in this realization? How do we not lose hope, not lose trust, and not lose faithfulness?
Go back in your Bibles to Exodus 3 when God comes to Moses. God says, “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 broad land, 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. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” And Moses did what God asked. Moses brought them out of Egypt, that’s all that he was asked to do.
Again, our culture says look at the big picture—get your head around that and then create the steps needed to reach the ultimate goal. I assure you I’m not advocating not setting goals, not trying to be the best you can be—not reaching for the stars. But when we don’t live up to our standards or culture’s standards, when we don’t believe we are making an impact, how do we stay the course? Who gets to define our success?
Our culture says it and even as a church we are caught up in that. When we talk about mission, our goals are out there big and huge, should we instead look in our own backyards. I know ya’ll do that here with your many community outreach programs including providing the Friday night meals. You are touching lives and often you don’t know what the final impact will be. You are an example of honest faithful living in the now and not yet.
And yet I know it’s still a struggle. It’s a struggle looking at all that needs to be done, all that we want to do. I wonder if we need to rewire our thought processes. Living as members of the Body of Christ, we are called to help bring the Kingdom of God into the world. We are called to bring honor to God in all that we do. It’s a heavy load, so perhaps we should leave the big picture to God and instead focus on what God is calling each of us to do in our lives each and every day.
As we come to the altar today, we glimpse for a brief moment the Kingdom of God on earth, for a brief moment we are not living in the in-between, no through the mystery of the Eucharist, we for a moment get a foretaste of the heavenly kingdom. John Westeroff says that at the Eucharist we “engage all our senses in a weekly dinner party in the reign of God after which we are prepared to go forth to love and serve God in our daily lives and work.” I add, in whatever that is. In whatever we are called to do, we are called to be Christ’s presence in the world.
How can you live today as faithfully as Moses remembering that God too is faithful? What is God calling you to do this morning, this day, this week?
23 October, 2011
08 October, 2011
You've Got to Stand for Something
Proper 23
Year A
Exodus 32:1-14
I wonder if I took a poll right now as to how many people really listened to every word of our OT reading what I would find. When we hear “familiar” stories from the Bible, it is so easy for our minds to wander because we “know” this story. We know who did what, who messed up, and how it turned out. Aaron and the Israelites really messed up and Moses has to come to their rescue—(it is interesting that Moses who claimed he couldn’t speak well and therefore couldn’t go up against Pharaoh is now imploring the Lord—but that’s a different sermon) Enough said right, sermon finished. Humor me, and let’s take another look at the passage, with fresh eyes and perhaps looking at it from another perspective—Why did Aaron do what he did? Why did he let the Israelites talk him into making a golden calf?—truthfully, it didn’t take much convincing. But what motivated him—what were his possible reasons, and how did he view what he was doing?
What do we know about Aaron? We know that he is Moses’ brother; we know that when Moses told God he couldn’t lead the Israelites out of Egypt because he didn’t speak well, God commanded Aaron to be Moses’ mouthpiece. Actually, what God said was this “he shall serve as a mouth for you, and you shall serve as a God for him.” (Exodus 4.16) Whoa—Talk about setting up sibling rivalry. Aaron was Moses’ mouthpiece, not his co-chair, not his vice-chair; Aaron had no authority. In fact, just prior to this incident, back in chapter 24, Moses, Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu and 70 elders were called up the mountain by God, and allowed to worship at a distance. Moses alone shall come near the Lord (Exodus 24:2). Once again, a slight. And Aaron also had been wandering in the desert; he also had been hungry, thirsty, tired and hot. Could it be that in that moment he thought to himself, “Now’s my chance—now’s my opportunity to step into full leadership.” Let’s face it, the possibility of power and leadership is quite seductive. Maybe that’s it— maybe, but let’s look at another possibility.
Moses has gone up the mountain and for 40 days and 40 nights (whatever that meant back then), Moses has been gone. The Israelites have no idea when he’s coming back. They frankly don’t know what’s going on or if he’s coming back. They don’t know what he’s doing. There’s no texting to find out—they’re just waiting. What does it feel like to wait, and to wait with uncertainty? It feels scary; you’re vulnerable and you have a loss of control. You want something tangible to hold onto. Have you ever been in the waiting room of an ER or OR and noticed all the people clutching Bibles, rosaries, Korans? The Israelites didn’t have those things; but they remembered what they use to have and they asked for it. So, I wonder, was Aaron full of compassion and empathy for these people? Was he trying to give them something to hold onto, to fix something for them that we know couldn’t be fixed? I don’t know for sure, and I do know that humans motives are often complex and tightly tangled. We know that, ask a teenager, anyone for that matter why they did something that goes against their character, and often you will hear, “I don’t know.” The truth is, they may not. We have a whole industry that gets paid to figure out why people do the things they do. Nonetheless, I’d like to explore this possibility. One of the key reasons I have to believe this is a possibility is the conversation that happens between Aaron and the Israelites. This is where you can’t think you know the passage so well you can doze off for a moment. Really look at the words. The Israelites say to Aaron in verse 1 “Come make gods for us, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” Aaron does not confirm their statement—he doesn’t say you’re right he simply asks them for their god and he formed it into an image of a calf, and then they change what they say and no longer give Moses credit for bringing them out of the land of Egypt, but rather these gods. And look how Aaron responds—he builds an altar and declares “tomorrow shall be a festival to the Lord.” In Hebrew to YHWH—he doesn’t use the plural, he skillfully or slipperly does not deny YHWH—he calls for a festival for YHWH. So the people and Aaron are speaking on two different planes—he’s manipulating words. He’s a people pleaser—he’s trying to make these people feel good and at the same time remain faithful to YHWH—what he really does is compromise his theology. He compromises his integrity. I wonder what this says to us?
We live in a complex world. And in this complex world, we are trying to discern what it means to be a Christian in the world. What does it mean to live our daily lives as Christ’s hands and feet to the world? The big buzz word that we hear over and over is “tolerance.” What does that mean? Does that mean anything goes? Does that mean any choice is okay? To what and to whom are we to be tolerant (once we define the term). We really don’t even have to exit the doors of the church building to struggle with this. We as an Episcopal church are what is called a broad church—we don’t have confessions that declare our beliefs. We hold in tension, or try to hold in tension the ancient faith and the dynamic changing world and our response to it. Frankly, we as a people are in process—our whole lives are a process of living into our faiths. And we are a welcoming church, “The Episcopal Church welcomes you.” You’ve all seen that sign. What does that mean? When we welcome someone does that mean no matter what? Do we accept any belief, any behavior or twist it so that it fits? Do we manipulate words and people?
I contend Aaron’s mistake was compromising his theology to make people feel better because he cared about them, because he wanted to be a comforter(maybe there was also a little bit of wanting power as well), but I think ultimately, he identified with their fear and he wanted to make it disappear. Each time I read this passage a country song kept coming to mind. The chorus says, “You have to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything. You have to be your own man not a puppet on a string. Never compromise what’s right and uphold your family name, you’ve got to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything.” Was Aaron a puppet, did he not know what he stood for, or did he just not have the courage to stand for himself?
So how do we not compromise our theology; how do we live a dynamic faith—let’s get to the heart of the matter, how do we define our core values. As my daddy used to ask me, “what will you die on the hill for?” I’ve begun to use a similar version with my children as they’re getting older and I’m having to trust them more. They know the mantra well as they get out of my car or leave the house because I say the same thing each time, “Have fun, remember who you are, be true to yourself.” In other words, don’t compromise your core values. This morning as I was running and thinking about tonight’s sermon and how I say these words to my children, it occurred to me that they may not know who they are or what they’re core values are. And as I thought further, I realized that maybe that goes for all of us as individuals and as a church, do we know what our die on the hill core values or beliefs are?
So, I turned to Scripture when I returned and today’s NT reading I
thought would give me the answer. Philippines 4:8-9 says Finally,
beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just,
whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if
there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think
about these things.
9 Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you. (Phi 4:8-9 NRS) Great but what is “whatever” and what are “these things”? I firmly believe these are fundamentals that we cannot ignore either as individuals or as a community of faith. We need to be able to identify our core beliefs and live our lives through that lens. How do we find these? It’s not easy, it takes time, and it takes deliberate attention and practice. As Episcopalians, a place to start is with the Lambeth Quadrilateral which you may or may not have heard of. It is known as the four point articulation of our Anglican identity.
1. The Holy Scriptures, as containing all things necessary to salvation;
2. The Creeds (specifically, the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds), as the sufficient statement of Christian faith;
3. The Sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion;
4. The historic episcopate, locally adapted.
It is not enough to be able to list these, but we need to understand them
to understand what they mean—to pay attention to the words we say
each week.
It is a struggle—it’s a struggle we individually make and a struggle
we make as a community. In the letter to the Philippians, Paul writes
“work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” He’s writing to
a community and telling the community to work out their faith –how
they live their faith—how they live their lives in response to God’s
grace, with reverence and respect to God. As individuals and as a
community we need to dialogue about these things. We cannot assume
everyone knows or agrees on these core fundamental values that lie at
the heart of our theology.
Moses did come down from the mountain, and if you read ahead,
you’ll see that there was some violent and horrific punishment for what
happened. Thousands died, but not Aaron. And then later, Aaron and
Moses again tussle—Aaron talks badly about Moses’ wife, and he
questions his leadership. These are all parts of the story, but they are
only parts. We know that ultimately Aaron was ordained the high priest
and from his descendents came all the other high priests. Aaron was not
identified by his one moment of disobedience, and neither are we. But
at the same time, who we are and the things we’ve done all are a part of
us. Rowan Williams says there is a “temptation to think you can always
reinvent yourself and that you are what you say you are or what you’d
like to be at any moment. It often takes a shock or a tragedy to remind
you that your life really is made up of the accumulated effects of choices
you may have forgotten, experiences you never registered or
understood.” Our faith and the faith of the world is a developing story
but one that must be taken seriously. Who we are and how we behave,
what choices we make, these all stem from these core fundamental
values that we need to identify.
Aaron wanted to be the comforter or the hero in that moment. In
another moment he was an obedient spokesperson, and in another
moment he was a challenger of Moses. When we strip away the
moments of appearance, what’s left? Winston Churchill says, “Inside
the image there appeared the man.” Inside our image as individual
Christians and inside our image as a community of faith, what stands?
As the family of God, what do we stand for?
Year A
Exodus 32:1-14
I wonder if I took a poll right now as to how many people really listened to every word of our OT reading what I would find. When we hear “familiar” stories from the Bible, it is so easy for our minds to wander because we “know” this story. We know who did what, who messed up, and how it turned out. Aaron and the Israelites really messed up and Moses has to come to their rescue—(it is interesting that Moses who claimed he couldn’t speak well and therefore couldn’t go up against Pharaoh is now imploring the Lord—but that’s a different sermon) Enough said right, sermon finished. Humor me, and let’s take another look at the passage, with fresh eyes and perhaps looking at it from another perspective—Why did Aaron do what he did? Why did he let the Israelites talk him into making a golden calf?—truthfully, it didn’t take much convincing. But what motivated him—what were his possible reasons, and how did he view what he was doing?
What do we know about Aaron? We know that he is Moses’ brother; we know that when Moses told God he couldn’t lead the Israelites out of Egypt because he didn’t speak well, God commanded Aaron to be Moses’ mouthpiece. Actually, what God said was this “he shall serve as a mouth for you, and you shall serve as a God for him.” (Exodus 4.16) Whoa—Talk about setting up sibling rivalry. Aaron was Moses’ mouthpiece, not his co-chair, not his vice-chair; Aaron had no authority. In fact, just prior to this incident, back in chapter 24, Moses, Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu and 70 elders were called up the mountain by God, and allowed to worship at a distance. Moses alone shall come near the Lord (Exodus 24:2). Once again, a slight. And Aaron also had been wandering in the desert; he also had been hungry, thirsty, tired and hot. Could it be that in that moment he thought to himself, “Now’s my chance—now’s my opportunity to step into full leadership.” Let’s face it, the possibility of power and leadership is quite seductive. Maybe that’s it— maybe, but let’s look at another possibility.
Moses has gone up the mountain and for 40 days and 40 nights (whatever that meant back then), Moses has been gone. The Israelites have no idea when he’s coming back. They frankly don’t know what’s going on or if he’s coming back. They don’t know what he’s doing. There’s no texting to find out—they’re just waiting. What does it feel like to wait, and to wait with uncertainty? It feels scary; you’re vulnerable and you have a loss of control. You want something tangible to hold onto. Have you ever been in the waiting room of an ER or OR and noticed all the people clutching Bibles, rosaries, Korans? The Israelites didn’t have those things; but they remembered what they use to have and they asked for it. So, I wonder, was Aaron full of compassion and empathy for these people? Was he trying to give them something to hold onto, to fix something for them that we know couldn’t be fixed? I don’t know for sure, and I do know that humans motives are often complex and tightly tangled. We know that, ask a teenager, anyone for that matter why they did something that goes against their character, and often you will hear, “I don’t know.” The truth is, they may not. We have a whole industry that gets paid to figure out why people do the things they do. Nonetheless, I’d like to explore this possibility. One of the key reasons I have to believe this is a possibility is the conversation that happens between Aaron and the Israelites. This is where you can’t think you know the passage so well you can doze off for a moment. Really look at the words. The Israelites say to Aaron in verse 1 “Come make gods for us, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him.” Aaron does not confirm their statement—he doesn’t say you’re right he simply asks them for their god and he formed it into an image of a calf, and then they change what they say and no longer give Moses credit for bringing them out of the land of Egypt, but rather these gods. And look how Aaron responds—he builds an altar and declares “tomorrow shall be a festival to the Lord.” In Hebrew to YHWH—he doesn’t use the plural, he skillfully or slipperly does not deny YHWH—he calls for a festival for YHWH. So the people and Aaron are speaking on two different planes—he’s manipulating words. He’s a people pleaser—he’s trying to make these people feel good and at the same time remain faithful to YHWH—what he really does is compromise his theology. He compromises his integrity. I wonder what this says to us?
We live in a complex world. And in this complex world, we are trying to discern what it means to be a Christian in the world. What does it mean to live our daily lives as Christ’s hands and feet to the world? The big buzz word that we hear over and over is “tolerance.” What does that mean? Does that mean anything goes? Does that mean any choice is okay? To what and to whom are we to be tolerant (once we define the term). We really don’t even have to exit the doors of the church building to struggle with this. We as an Episcopal church are what is called a broad church—we don’t have confessions that declare our beliefs. We hold in tension, or try to hold in tension the ancient faith and the dynamic changing world and our response to it. Frankly, we as a people are in process—our whole lives are a process of living into our faiths. And we are a welcoming church, “The Episcopal Church welcomes you.” You’ve all seen that sign. What does that mean? When we welcome someone does that mean no matter what? Do we accept any belief, any behavior or twist it so that it fits? Do we manipulate words and people?
I contend Aaron’s mistake was compromising his theology to make people feel better because he cared about them, because he wanted to be a comforter(maybe there was also a little bit of wanting power as well), but I think ultimately, he identified with their fear and he wanted to make it disappear. Each time I read this passage a country song kept coming to mind. The chorus says, “You have to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything. You have to be your own man not a puppet on a string. Never compromise what’s right and uphold your family name, you’ve got to stand for something or you’ll fall for anything.” Was Aaron a puppet, did he not know what he stood for, or did he just not have the courage to stand for himself?
So how do we not compromise our theology; how do we live a dynamic faith—let’s get to the heart of the matter, how do we define our core values. As my daddy used to ask me, “what will you die on the hill for?” I’ve begun to use a similar version with my children as they’re getting older and I’m having to trust them more. They know the mantra well as they get out of my car or leave the house because I say the same thing each time, “Have fun, remember who you are, be true to yourself.” In other words, don’t compromise your core values. This morning as I was running and thinking about tonight’s sermon and how I say these words to my children, it occurred to me that they may not know who they are or what they’re core values are. And as I thought further, I realized that maybe that goes for all of us as individuals and as a church, do we know what our die on the hill core values or beliefs are?
So, I turned to Scripture when I returned and today’s NT reading I
thought would give me the answer. Philippines 4:8-9 says Finally,
beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just,
whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if
there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think
about these things.
9 Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you. (Phi 4:8-9 NRS) Great but what is “whatever” and what are “these things”? I firmly believe these are fundamentals that we cannot ignore either as individuals or as a community of faith. We need to be able to identify our core beliefs and live our lives through that lens. How do we find these? It’s not easy, it takes time, and it takes deliberate attention and practice. As Episcopalians, a place to start is with the Lambeth Quadrilateral which you may or may not have heard of. It is known as the four point articulation of our Anglican identity.
1. The Holy Scriptures, as containing all things necessary to salvation;
2. The Creeds (specifically, the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds), as the sufficient statement of Christian faith;
3. The Sacraments of Baptism and Holy Communion;
4. The historic episcopate, locally adapted.
It is not enough to be able to list these, but we need to understand them
to understand what they mean—to pay attention to the words we say
each week.
It is a struggle—it’s a struggle we individually make and a struggle
we make as a community. In the letter to the Philippians, Paul writes
“work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” He’s writing to
a community and telling the community to work out their faith –how
they live their faith—how they live their lives in response to God’s
grace, with reverence and respect to God. As individuals and as a
community we need to dialogue about these things. We cannot assume
everyone knows or agrees on these core fundamental values that lie at
the heart of our theology.
Moses did come down from the mountain, and if you read ahead,
you’ll see that there was some violent and horrific punishment for what
happened. Thousands died, but not Aaron. And then later, Aaron and
Moses again tussle—Aaron talks badly about Moses’ wife, and he
questions his leadership. These are all parts of the story, but they are
only parts. We know that ultimately Aaron was ordained the high priest
and from his descendents came all the other high priests. Aaron was not
identified by his one moment of disobedience, and neither are we. But
at the same time, who we are and the things we’ve done all are a part of
us. Rowan Williams says there is a “temptation to think you can always
reinvent yourself and that you are what you say you are or what you’d
like to be at any moment. It often takes a shock or a tragedy to remind
you that your life really is made up of the accumulated effects of choices
you may have forgotten, experiences you never registered or
understood.” Our faith and the faith of the world is a developing story
but one that must be taken seriously. Who we are and how we behave,
what choices we make, these all stem from these core fundamental
values that we need to identify.
Aaron wanted to be the comforter or the hero in that moment. In
another moment he was an obedient spokesperson, and in another
moment he was a challenger of Moses. When we strip away the
moments of appearance, what’s left? Winston Churchill says, “Inside
the image there appeared the man.” Inside our image as individual
Christians and inside our image as a community of faith, what stands?
As the family of God, what do we stand for?
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