Thirtd Sunday in Lent
Sermon by The Reverend Loree Reed

Exodus 20: 1–17
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

Twelve years ago, I was deeply honored to baptize my first two grandchildren, both on the same joyful day.  Francesca was then ten months old; Jonas just five weeks.  And both young families had to come from quite a distance for the occasion.  But somehow we managed it, right after Christmas, and the chaos and the joy of that week is something I will always remember.
At the time, I wondered what gift I could give to these two dear babies that might come close to expressing the significance of the day – to them, to me and to God.  Finally, I settled on a small book I’d found in The Cathedral Bookstore in Atlanta.  It was titled, I Belong and was a small scrapbook to be filled with photographs taken and inscriptions written on the day of their baptism in the Episcopal Church.  So we engaged a photographer for the day to take the pictures, and then invited every grandparent, every aunt and uncle, every godparent, friend and neighbor to inscribe those books with prayers and blessings – all to commemorate how special this day was – to each child and to God as well.
It’s those little books that I think of today as I think of God’s welcoming gift to his children as they arrived at Sinai with Moses.  For these children too, in a sense, were newborn.  By God’s grace they had just escaped Pharaoh’s clutches in Egypt and had been delivered through the Red Sea to new freedom on new shores.  Now, on the edges of the Sinai desert, they were free to worship God.  They were free to pursue holiness, which was God’s purpose for them.  And they were free to learn what it meant to belong to God.  And just as I inscribed the I Belong scrapbooks to my grandchildren, so God wrote careful inscriptions that day to his own dear children – only he inscribed the words with his finger on tablets of stone.
But there were differences in what we wrote.  I was writing to grandchildren who had already been welcomed into families who loved them and would continue to love them, would continue to care for them in love.  I trusted this would happen for I had raised their parents in love.  But God realized that this people He was now calling His children, the Children of Israel, had not been raised in love — so much as in fear.  Pharaoh had not loved them.  Pharaoh had taught them to fear him – so he could get more work out of them.  And no one loves the man whom he fears.
So through the Ten Words, the Ten Commandments, God set out to give His children a new way of life, a way of love – love not just for Him, but for each other.  So how do you begin to teach a people the way of love?  How do you begin to teach them the mutual love and respect that will lead to a life of peace and prosperity – not just for each individual, but for the whole community?  Wherever do you begin with teachings this basic?
The Lord God said they would have to begin by finding out who He was.  They would have to begin by getting to know Him – the one true loving God who had brought them out of slavery.  Otherwise, He said, they might be tempted to worship a different god, a god who would do them no good at all.  And what good would that be?
Second, He said, they would have to beware of making idols for themselves, of worshiping something smaller than God, something God had made.  This is what people do when they confuse created things with the creator.  And that step leads straight back to slavery, to addiction and bondage.
Third, He told them, they weren’t to trivialize God’s name – calling on Him to advance their own schemes rather than following His ways.  That would be putting the cart before the horse.
And finally, He said, they were to keep the seventh day, the Sabbath, as holy to the Lord.  On that day they were to do no work.  God himself had made the heavens, the earth, the sea and all that was in them in six days.  But on the seventh day He had rested.  And so, he said, must we, blessing the seventh day as a day holy to the Lord, a day when we begin to trust that this God who has provided for us all week long will continue to provide for us, even on a day when we do no work.  Once again, it’s a matter of trusting love instead of fear.
Now, up to this point God’s words on those tablets of stone had told the Children of Israel how to think about God, how to treat this loving God they’d just begun to discover.  Perhaps as they come to know Him they will begin to follow in His holy ways.  But we can’t be holy in a vacuum.  Holiness only exists in the context of others.  So now, God turns his attention to how we are to treat one another – and He begins with how we are to treat our parents.  Honor your parents, He tells us – for without them, there would have been no ‘you’.  Our respect and gratitude for our parents will become a practical demonstration of our thankfulness to God.
Similarly, the way we think of others, the way we treat others will reflect the way we have learned to think of God.  Treatment of God and treatment of others go hand in hand.  So the commands that follow – commands to respect life, marriage, property and truth simply underline what it means to be a people who belong to God – a people who love one another as He has loved us.
Now, at this point you might be wondering why I’m bothering to rehearse these words that are foundational to our way of life, our whole social contract.  Why am I even talking about something that ‘everybody knows’?
I am talking about them this morning because it occurs to me that we are all on the verge of a fresh new beginning, a fresh new start – not unlike the fresh new start the Children of Israel made with Moses at Sinai.  Not unlike the fresh new start each new soul makes as he or she is baptized into the life of Christ.  As more and more people get vaccinated against this Covid virus that has changed our lives . . . as we restart our social contract after this pandemic . . .  a new administration in this country begins to help the millions who have suffered . . . as we all begin to go out in the world again . . . it occurs to me that we all have some fresh opportunities.  We can reject the politics of fear that have divided us for so long and choose instead the old ways of God, ever ancient and ever new – ways of forgiveness, ways of respect, ways of love.
We can all begin to behave as if we belonged to God – and to one another.
That is my hope, my prayer for us all.  I wish us all a blessed Lent.
Amen.
 
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