Westbury UMC Sermon 3-29-20 | Exodus 17:1-7 Rev. Hannah R. Terry

Good morning friends -- I’m so glad you’ve chosen to connect and worship by video today. This is the second week we’ve gathered here by Youtube and again these past seven days have required of all of us additional flexibility and creativity and cooperation and collaboration with the Stay Home Work Safe city order. Friends I know these are very odd and challenging times.

I miss you. I miss your face, your eyes, your voices. Yet I want you to know that I am grateful for you and technology and your real presence here today. I’m proud of you for doing the thing. For showing up in the best ways we know today -- moment by moment together. Friends today in this pandemic we called to follow Jesus -- to grow in love with God, with one another, with our neighbors. Coronavirus does not change our mission -- it ups the anti as we deepen our commitment to God’s call. So here we are this morning gathered through Youtube in Jesus’ name to worship -- that we might be shaped and molded and energized to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world through God’s love today.

So invite you to take a pause with me. We’ve turned away from extra noise, the 24 hour news cycle (which, please, know that you don’t need to be watching ever), and we’ve turned toward the Word of God for us the people of God. I invite you to a brief moment of meditation to center ourselves again.

Breathe in -- and out. We listen for the rhythm of our heart beat and the heartbeat of God.

We are here and God is here. And this is the very thing we encounter in our text today. Anxious thirsty people encountered by a God of Peace that passes understanding.

As we drop into the Old Testament text of Exodus, the Israelites are in a panic. They’re in the wilderness with literally no water to drink. Their God-appointed leader Moses led them out of slavery in Egypt but they’ve been wandering around in the desert and now they question whether following Moses was the right move.

Is it better for us to die out here of dehydration -- when we could have just been worked to death by Pharaoh? At least we knew what to expect back in Egypt. As least knew the situation and the circumstances of our enslavement. We hear that panic is a real thing.

A two weeks ago, we were seeing the beginnings of panicked stockpiling of toilet paper and bottled water. Here in our HEBs and Krogers and Costos. But now friends we’re witnessing the panic stirred up by not enough proper medical equipment. Lacking ventilators. Numbered hospital beds. Shrinking teams as exposed and sick folks are quarantined. Folks are most panicked by the unknown. Every day this very fluid public health situation is changing. And we’re not clear on what to expect. And we can’t seem to quickly control the situation and global crisis. And we don’t know when a vaccine will be discovered. Panic is a real thing.

So what we see next in the text is that Moses has to take a breath. He tells God -- Lord your people are gonna stone me to death. I need help.

So the Lord invites Moses over to the rock at Horeb -- and God says, “I will be standing there in front of you on that rock.” And Moses brings key leaders with him to pull away from the masses and to be reminded in a powerful way of God’s presence and provision. They approach the rock of Horeb and when Moses follows God’s instructions to strike the rock with his staff, fresh thirst-quenching living water gushes from the earth.

God says I will be standing there in front of you.

The people of God are wrestling with the question -- where is God? Is God among us or not?

And I wonder with you -- if the world might be wrestling with the question -- is God among us or not?

And I wonder with you - perhaps you’re wrestling a version of this question too.

Where is God among us?

Our practice today of social distancing in response to a glocal crisis [meaning - global and local has collided in real time]l, our practice is one of compassionate wisdom. As Christians and citizens of the kingdom of God, this crisis leads us to compassion and creativity and connection. We care for one another and the common good and the most vulnerable among us by honoring the wisdom of medical professionals and working to flatten the curve. We lean into creativity by gathering in ways we haven’t normally gathered and we’re thinking outside our business as usual box. The box has changed y’all. Our context as humans has drastically shifted. So we’re quickly listening to how God is moving among us creatively. And we’re taking connection very seriously. I’m so grateful to y’all this week and how many of you have risen up as leaders to

organize our small group ministry of connection and community. Thank you Roberta Wright and Sharon Scott. Thank you Mark Chatfield. Thank you Lauren Figard. Thank you Carlyn Chatfield and Ofelia Patlan, Angela Ejiofor and Lauran Kerr-Heraly, Ike Watkins and Bridget Hughes, Sharon and Steve Olson and many other friends. We may be socially distanced but by no means does this mean we are alone.

So here’s the reality -- Us is scattered. And that’s a great challenge. Because here in this disorienting place of distance -- we are forced to confront ourselves. We are invited to feel uncomfortable feelings. There are things that get stirred when we are in the wilderness. And I wonder if that’s part of what was so difficult for the parched Israelites as they journeyed through the wilderness. They were forced to confront themselves in a place stripped down of distraction. A place of bare essentials.

One of my favorite spiritual writers Barbara Brown Taylor as Episcopal priest writes about this place we find ourselves in today. And I know I’ve shared these words with some of you before and they are words that ground FAM Houston’s value of hospitality and they are resounding loudly for me today.

“The hardest spiritual work in the world is to love the neighbor as the self – to encounter another human being not as someone you can use, change, fix, help, save, enroll, convince or control, but simply as someone who can spring you from the prison of yourself, if you will allow it.”

Friends, as we love our neighbors as ourselves by social distancing, if we allow it, this spiritual work can spring us from the prison of ourselves. This spiritual work where we are limited in interacting with other humans in our normal everyday ways opens us up to noticing what is thirsty within us for living water. What is crying out for freedom. And this spiritual work of discovering what parts of our spirit are dehydrated can be uncomfortable -- but I promise you this -- God crosses the boundaries of all social distancing and offers you living water.

God offers you grace and full embrace. God gives peace that passes understanding. God quenches your thirst for love and life and connection.

In this season, I know for some of us -- particularly medical professionals and those on the frontlines at hospitals and mental health hotlines and our police and fire departments, this is not a season of extra Sabbath. For folks who work contract work and gig work and for hourly pay and have lost jobs and are struggling to make it, this is not a season of extra Sabbath. For

parents with children home and you’re juggling roles of parent and homeschool principal homeschool nurse and homeschool teacher and homeschool chef, this may not be a Sabbath you were hoping for. For folks who live alone and do not have access to touch or be touched by another human being and you’re thankful for technology while feeling lonely and frustrated and sad, this is not a Sabbath you were hoping for.

And yet -- here in this season -- God offers you living water if we choose to receive it.

God offers you grace, full embrace, peace that passes understanding, and living water to share with one another and our neighbors. And that living water comes in the form of video calls. Texts. Staying in close communication. It comes through cards and prayers. Friends, we are not alone. God is standing right in front of us on the rock. And God can handle all your moments of panic, peace, or denial. So hold Jesus’ feet the fire and ask for your living water. Strike the Rock.

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Amen.