Sermons from the Pulpit
Preached to Exeter Congregational United Church of Christ on the fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, August 29, 1999, by Michael L. C. Henderson, pastor.Exodus 3:1-15; Romans 12:9-21; Matthew 16:21-28Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.
-Exodus 3:5
So, anybody want to take off their shoes? I bet some of you already have. And that's OK. I'd like to do it too, but I'm too exposed up here to get away with it. But those pews are really very private. You can do anything you want in there as long as you look reverent from the rib cage up.
I think we modern people have got it backwards as usual. The Hebrews thought it was a sign of disrespect to leave your shoes on. That makes perfectly good sense to me. Muslims still take off their shoes at the mosque. In Japan the polite guest takes them off at the entrance of the house. Just inside the parsonage back door we have a pile of shoes, and lots of people feel compelled to throw theirs on top on the way in, which I find charming.
But there's also this cultural thing, this very American thing: We are a nation of people who are determined, like the cowboys, to die with our boots on. Not to mention our hats. Cowboys never take off their hats. And if we're going to die with them on, then it follows, metaphorically speaking, that we're going to wear them to bed and in the shower too. Being shod and Stetsoned is the sign, proof and symbol of our dignity, self-worth, respectability, and membership in society. As the sign says: No shoes, no service.
Think about what's going on there. To remove your shoes, or for a non-Jewish man your hat, is to strip yourself of your status, pride and pretensions and take yourself down a peg, in recognition that you're in the presence of a superior being. Similar to bowing for prayer or saluting in the military. But the West was won by people who, unlike the Shakers, thought it would be a shame to bow and to bend for anyone at anytime, and it's still in our blood, this distaste for reverence, this confusing of humility with humiliation.
So if taking off one's shoes is a gesture of respect or worship, we might refuse to do it; but if it's a matter of making ourselves comfortable and not being slavish conformists to convention, then we will do it. Attitude is everything.
Of course, if the voice of God spoke to me out of a burning bush, I might adjust my attitude in a hurry. Remember the Hollywood movie about it, with Charlton Heston as Moses? He goes up the mountain with his sheep, and he comes upon the burning bush, and he says he will turn aside and see this great sight, why the bush is not consumed, and then The Voice of God says, "Moses, Moses!" And he says, "Here I am, Lord." And The Voice of God says, "Take off the sandals from thy feet, for the place on which thou standest is holy ground." Did you know that The Voice of God is also Charlton Heston? It's a true fact, you can look it up.
He's talking to himself! This has serious theological implications. For example, later on in the conversation, when Moses asks, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" God could have answered him, "Listen, you can do it. You're a very gifted actor. You could even play Me, and maybe someday you could be the president of the NRA." Instead, The Voice of God says, "I will be with you," to which Moses could have answered, "Of course you'll be with me! You are me." And before you know it God and Moses have turned into George Burns and Gracie Allen. Come to think of it, George Burns did play God in a movie, didn't he? With John Denver as Moses, sort of.
But there are other ways to imagine that conversation, too. Moses says, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" And the Lord God could have reminded him, "You are the man who saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave, and you looked around to see if anyone was watching, and when you realized you were all alone you rescued the slave by killing the Egyptian. So you and I have both observed the misery of my people in Egypt; we have both heard their cry on account of their taskmasters, and we both know their sufferings. You've already tried to fix the problem and it didn't work and you had to run for your life. And now you're going to go back and do it right, with my help."
What's the difference between Moses killing an Egyptian slave driver for the sake of one Hebrew slave and Moses going to Pharaoh to demand the freedom of all the Hebrews? Moses killing an Egyptian is one desperate, passionate man, on his own, doing one desperate, passionate deed. He's on the right side, the side of the helpless and the hurting, his heart's in the right place, and he's brave and strong . . . and he does more harm than good. Moses going to Pharaoh is a man on a mission, not his own mission but God's, and he's not on his own, he's not alone, he knows that God is with him. That is God's real answer to the Moses' question, Who am I to go to Pharaoh? You are the one whom God sends and whom God goes with.
Which means he can't do it his own way anymore. He can't go around killing Egyptians one at a time anymore like a guerrilla or a terrorist. He has to do it God's way. And when you read through the book of Exodus and beyond, you discover that time and again Moses was at odds with God over this. He didn't like doing it God's way, and he and God had a few arguments about it.
Not unlike this argument in Matthew's Gospel between Jesus and Peter. Jesus asks, Who do you think I am? And Peter is the first to say, You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God! With reverence, just like Moses taking off his shoes. Having recognized the Messiah, you'd expect Peter to follow the Messiah and do things the Messiah's way, but he has trouble with that, just as Moses did. The minute Jesus starts talking about what's going to happen to the Messiah, he jumps up and says, God forbid, Lord! We can't let that happen to you!
Get behind me, Satan. Get out of my way. Get with the program. We're not going to do this your way. If you were the Messiah, we'd do it your way, but as I recall we just established that you're not the Messiah; I am, so we're going to do it my way.
It's a great thing to know that God goes with you wherever you go to strengthen you and care for you, but it also creates some difficulties for you. Jesus says to Peter, if you want to be my follower, you have to follow me, which sounds like a no-brainer, but just try to do it. It changes your whole approach to things. It changes your mindset. And naturally you resist that and try to do it your own way, and then you find yourself in an argument with God. This is not necessarily fatal. The saints of God are always squabbling with God. God doesn't seem to mind. God squabbles right back. It's all in the family. The Jews understand this better than we Christians do.
Which is too bad, because not one of us can go around doing things God's way without giving God an argument about it. God's way is just too absurd to go unchallenged. Paul makes that clear in this reading from Romans - I mean, did you listen to this? Listen again:
Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor.
Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Bless those who persecute you.
Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.
Do not claim to be wiser than you are.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all.
If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.
Never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God. If your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them drink;
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
In the face of that kind of an ethic, that kind of a mindset, we just throw up our hands and say, "God help us!" And if you ask Paul or Peter or Jesus, God replies: Precisely. You're finally beginning to understand.
Amen