August 25, 2002

Fourteenth Pentecost

Matthew 16:13-20; Romans 12:1-8; Exodus 1:8-2:10


Now a new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.

Do you remember your first grade teacher’s name? How about the names of the people who lived next door when you were in fourth and fifth grade? Do you remember the pastor who confirmed you? Married you? Baptized your children? Who won the World Series the year you graduated from high school? Who was president that year? Most of us want to believe that our presence in the world is significant—That years after we have moved on to other places and activities there will still be people who remember the mark we left—or we thought we left. There are some fields of endeavor that are more dependent on memory than others primarily because the commerce of the field depends to some degree on the role of history.—This is particularly true of sports (which is always keeping track of benchmark records of fastest, longest or most something or another.) It is also true of politics and religion—two areas of existence that call for reflection on the meaning of events and moments in the past—their implications for the present and their promise for the future.

There is an old saying, that those who do not know their history are doomed to repeat it. The Old Testament is filled with stories of people who forgot their history—forgot who they were and where they came from and why they were who they were. A critical moment in that history is in our Old Testament lesson for today. Through most of the summer we have been tracing the development of the patriarchal covenant—a promise given in our lessons several months ago now to Abram and Sari—a promise that their descendents would grow in number to be a nation filling the land shown to Abraham that they might be a blessing to all the nations of the world. We traced that history through Abraham and Sara to Isaac and Rebekah—then to Jacob and his wives Leah and Rachel—producing 12 sons of which the favorite was Joseph sold into slavery in Egypt. But there in Egypt Joseph emerges as the salvation from drought and famine not only for the land of Pharaoh but also finally reconciled with his brothers and restored to his father Jacob. The greatness of Joseph is a blessing for the descendants of Jacob—now identified by the family names of his sons as twelve clans or tribes. Thus the story—history and myth—recorded in the book of Genesis—the first book of the Bible.—Which brings us to the second book in the Bible—Exodus—where our lesson for today begins with the intriguing sentence “Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.”

History is filled with examples of politicians and military leaders who failed to remember. Time and again from the perspective of history we have recognized how one generation should have known better—should have recognized the signs—but from ego or just ignorance chose to discount the findings of those who preceded them—and the society has been visited by crisis, disaster or defeat. In the past century we know that a great depression and several world wars and some lesser conflicts could have been avoided if history lessons rather then self interests had informed the decisions and choices that were made. Certainly Great Britain and Russia had centuries of tragic experiences in a place called Afghanistan long before the United States became involved—There is much that can be learned by those who remember. Scientists increasingly express concern for our environmental and medical well-being based on past history and the conclusions that can be drawn. Certainly our dealing with religious communities around the world reflect both the curse and the ignorance of historical observations and lessons twisted and selected rather then allowed to speak prophetically to the moment.

The covenant given to Abraham was a promise from God that from this time forward God had made a choice—a choice to reveal to the world the meaning of living in God’s presence and blessing. As we review the history of God’s interaction with humanity—we discover almost immediately that God does not base blessing on the purity or good works of the person. God is more concerned about the promise of a life lived by faith—even when those striving to live by faith make wrong choices or even lose sight of the divine purpose. God declares eternal faithfulness to humanity even as humanity stumbles and falls again and again. Abraham doubts and lies—Isaac gets wrapped up in his own macho expectations for his sons—Jacob steals from his brother and deceives his father—Jacob’s sons sell their own brother into slavery. The history of humanity makes it quite clear that if the covenant depended on superior human qualities then humanity was doomed—but God was faithful. Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. And the life of the descendants of Jacob—the extended family of Joseph—disintegrated into bondage and abuse. When the history is forgotten—when we forget how we came to be in this place we risk a darkness that can only bring pain and suffering. The lost history of Joseph meant that the Hebrew people paid dearly—but before the story ends so will the Egyptians.

There is a movement afoot these days among historians called “revisionist history”. There are many who do not like this movement because it tends to call for memory to be broader and more complex then we would often prefer it to be. The happy selective histories that many of us learned in our younger days are now being written to include moments of pain, discrimination and abuse as well as triumphs and discoveries. The American Indians of the old West have become Native Americans and the simple image of good settlers and bad Indians has been given far more reality, complexity and honesty. Some of the more favored figures of the past have been shown to be more human then we might prefer them to be—and the warts we find cause many to look away. Thomas Jefferson has slipped some from the pantheon of Great Founding Fathers While John Adams and his wife Abigail have certainly gained prestigue. Confederate General Robert E. Lee is certainly much more highly regarded in the north today then he was in the decades following the end of the Civil War. We are also finding once obscure and forgotten figures of history who have come to be appreciated for their role in making a connection that may have set history and our society on a distinctive course. We have come to recognize that beginnings—sources and foundations—are far more significant then any one single moment. We all recognize that our modern world is not the result of any one single invention or person or even idea but the flow of history uniting—connecting—discovering wholeness. My flight to Germany a few weeks ago at more than 400 miles an hour involved the convergence of the collected historical, scientific, technological, creative, philosophical and experimental history of thousands of events, moments and people.—All that history made it possible for me to drift off to sleep to the sounds of a symphony orchestra playing just for me 35,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. It is good to remember the thousands who came before me and made that moment possible.

The book of Exodus begins with a call to remember. The birth of Moses who will deliver his people needs to be told and remembered—as it will be for centuries—millennia—but first there is a little story told of two Hebrew midwives who stood against the pharaoh’s orders to kill the Hebrew baby boys. There is pause in the ancient history of the greatest hero of Israel to first remember that beginnings are not from nothing—Faith has its foundations. Two ordinary common women of the faith—who remembered the stories about their God—and held fast to the faith they found in those stories. The stories that lead to faith—that is why we are about to once more begin another season of Christian education—to help our children and ourselves to remember. Remember who we are and where we come from. Our purpose is not to be remembered but to be the ones who remember—to become a part of the holy history that passes through this moment into eternity. Two Hebrew women remembered their God—and another Hebrew woman had hope—She placed her baby into a basket and floated it onto the river. And onto the stage of holy history came an unnamed, unknown daughter of the pharaoh. Out of the water—that is where the baby came from—she drew him out (“mashah”)—out of the water—and the pharaoh’s daughter did not want to forget so she named him “Mosheh”—Moses.

Centuries after the time of the pharaohs—when Caesars had come to rule the world—Another group of Hebrews gathered and in that moment the question was asked that probed the roots of origin and history. “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” This was a history question that led to a history answer, “Some say John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” The disciples proved themselves to be good students of history with an answer that recalled the teachings of many strands of the Jewish community in the first century. But then came the question that called for something more than history—“Who do you say that I am?” When the Sunday school teachers met yesterday morning and introduced themselves—one of the defining marks was how long they had been members of the congregation and how long they had taught. We place ourselves into history—and as people of faith we most rightly call it holy history. Holy history—Holy—the word means “set apart, special”—Our very memory has been made special by God—A holy memory. The Jesus who came into our world came into our history—and while many attempts were made to limit Him to an identity of just another preacher—or prophet—or miracle worker—the power of God could not be so confined. The disciples experienced something more—the Messiah—the Son of the living God.

No historical research could establish this truth. History is filled with people of faith—people who believed that God was not removed from the events that fill our every moment of existence. Faith is what gives meaning to history—gives it direction and purpose. There is a reason we are each here—And even in the moment of death we see meanings and purpose that carry us on to the future—We live as Christ lived—Not just for this moment but for all eternity—God is faithful—History tells us so—God is the beginning and end of history which holds all human life together. To be remembered—Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph—There are some in this world who have never heard of Alexander the Great or Babe Ruth or Billie Jean King—There are some who do not know that someone named Armstrong walked on the moon—And if this is true as I know it is—then I know there are really very few in the world who will ever remember me—but that is not what is ultimately important—What is of ultimate importance is that God remembers—God remembers a covenant with Abraham and also with me in my baptism—God remembers Hebrew slaves in Egypt and sets them free—God remembers me enslaved to my sins, passions, failings and forgives.—God remembers all that I have forgotten and that is called grace.

Amen.