God’s Mercy
October 8th, 2023
Year A; 19th Pentecost; Proper 22
Exodus 20: 1-4, 7-9, 12-20
Psalm 19
Matthew 21: 33-46
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
Then God spoke all these words:
I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me.
You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.
You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name.
Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. For six days you shall labour and do all your work.
Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.
You shall not murder.
You shall not commit adultery.
You shall not steal.
You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.
When all the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the sound of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking, they were afraid and trembled and stood at a distance, and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die.” Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid; for God has come only to test you and to put the fear of him upon you so that you do not sin.”
Homily by Rev. Megan Limburg
In the name of the Holy Three. Amen.
This week our reading from Exodus reaches the point when Moses brings the Ten Commandments to the people. The Israelites have been wandering in the wilderness, free but so unclear on what that means, uncertain, afraid and often taking out their pain on Moses, doubting his leadership, his wisdom, his connection to God.
And so God gives the commandments to Moses to give to the people, to help them to move from wandering to a common life together. Part of having a common life, a life in community, includes having rules, laws, commandments that we agree on.
The Ten Commandments focus on loving God and loving neighbor, and treating others with dignity and care. All lives are valued and recognized in the community, the kingdom of God.
Love God, love your neighbor.
And the people listen and are afraid and tremble and keep their distance. They recognize God’s presence and power, and rather than more grumbling to Moses, they beg him to speak for them and guide them, but not ask them to speak to God, for they are really afraid.
And despite all the previous doubting and insults, Moses reassures them and tells them not to be afraid. They are to worship God and listen.
So! The people have their laws, they are becoming a community, not just people on the run, and they are in fear, in awe of God.
All is well, nothing else to see here. Except, that by next week’s reading from Exodus the people will already be annoyed again and seemingly forgotten everything we hear today.
They will be annoyed because Moses has been away from them and not returned as quickly as they would like. So instead of remembering those commandments they have such a good idea; they build a golden calf to worship! And Aaron helps them!
How soon they forget; and yes, how soon we forget. And go off and worship golden calves, and cars and places.
And how soon we forget, and sound like the crowd as Jesus finishes his parable today. When he asks them how the parable should end, the crowd calls for answering violence with violence, and death with death.
Love God, love your neighbor.
I see myself wandering off on a daily basis, following a golden calf, forgetting what matters.
We made our quick trip out to Michigan this week, to see Tim’s brother Peter and his wife Paula. The decision to go really came at the last minute, unsure if this was the week to go, or to wait a few weeks. Peter and Paula said this was a week in which Peter was waiting for biopsy results likely to not be available until Friday, and they wanted to see us in a week with no appointments.
So off we went Sunday afternoon, heading west. We watched the leaves changing colors, the brightest colors in Ohio, red maples shining by old red barns. In the surprising warmth of 80 degrees, we saw the signs of fall all around, those leaves, the crops being harvested, the fields in shades of gold, and geese in ponds, in fields, and etching lines and v’s in the blue sky.
We arrived Monday afternoon, visited and then a plan was made for Tuesday, Tim and Peter to Costco to do some shopping and talking, Paula and I at the house, time to take a walk and talk. And then the call came from the doctor’s office, not Friday, but Tuesday, with confirmation of the diagnosis and details to be learned.
And by evening, Tim and I saying to each other, thank God we came this week.
We so rarely know what to do and when, how to help. We stumble around and overthink things, and occasionally we quiet down enough to receive the grace to show up when we are needed, and do what is needed.
Our collect today speaks of God’s grace and mercy.
“Almighty and everlasting God, you are always more ready to hear than we to pray, and to give more than we either desire or deserve: Pour upon us the abundance of your mercy, forgiving us those things of which our conscience is afraid, and giving us those good things for which we are not worthy to ask, except through the merits and mediation of Jesus Christ our Savior; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”
Mercy in abundance, pouring down upon us like rain on parched land. Mercy to be where we are needed most, mercy to hold hands, to cry together, to share a meal, to laugh at old stories, mercy pouring down on us all.
Mercy does not change that Peter has metastatic lung cancer; we are all mortal, we are all human, we are all strong and fragile, always.
But God’s mercy enfolds us in all we love and bear, forgiving us and giving us what we need to go on, and to show up when we are needed most.
Amen.