Tonight at bible study we were talking about Exodus 3, and it took me to a weird place.
During the study, we talked a lot about calling, and your normal Exodus 3 business. I AM, Moses’ excuses, God calling Moses, and so on. It was a good group, and the conversation was lovely, but really I wasn’t really engaged in it until I was washing dishes after the study ended.
I have this whole new grown up task of cleaning my house every night. All of the dishes and everything put away. Every night. I know that most grown together folk clean their houses on the daily. But I live alone. No one knows if I leave clothes on the bathroom floor, or if yesterday’s dishes are in the sink. In an attempt to be one of those grown folk, I’ve decided to really focus on keeping a passably clean apartment.
This reflective mood that I encountered doing the dishes began on my drive home. I love driving at night. There is such peace when you’re driving at night with the windows down. You’re not in a hurry. You’re not fighting traffic. You’re just driving.
I love that peace, and I carried it with me into my apartment as I began tidying up for the evening.
I was thinking about this passage in Exodus and was transported to training. Ahhh training, what a lovely crazy time.
I remember Liz Lee, at some point early on, took us through some of Exodus. I remember her telling us about how this story of being freed from oppressors and those oppressors being punished brought her great comfort as a child.
As I look around this world, this city that I live in, places I’ve lived in the past, all I see is hurt and oppression. I see entire systems set up to leave someone out. To oppress another for their lot in life–for their skin color, socioeconomic status, religious beliefs, gender, sexual orientation. This world has been built by oppressors in many ways. I know few people from my own background that think the government works in their favor. I know few folks that grew up as poor as we did that think that they could ever have a future better or bigger than that. We as a country have a pretty terrible history of participating in or supporting systems and people that routinely take advantage of a people of a group.
Sometimes I look around and I wonder where is our Moses? Where is this liberator that will free us all from our captivity? This world that we live in can be a hopeless place where greed–for money, resources, and power–rule instead of love, hope, service, and humility.
The answer is Jesus. Jesus came and freed us, but the answer is also me. It’s also you. It’s me, you, y’all, and us. We are called to be liberators. We are called to care for the widowed and the orphaned. To stand on the side of justice and mercy. To live as servants and in humility. We are called to be the Moseses. Jesus came and freed us from sin, but He left us here to continue to do this work. He used folks like Moses and Aaron, and me and you. Notice God didn’t free the Israelites on His own (not that He couldn’t have), He used a vessel, He used Moses, and then He used Joshua after that to lead his people, and on and on.
God uses us for this sacred work. Me, you, y’all, us, everyone, or at least He wants to. We all have a critical role to play.
I’m reading a book right now called, “Your Jesus is too Safe”, and while I don’t agree with all of the author’s words, there is a passage in there that talks about how we are fine to think that Jesus was a real guy; that he was a nice good man, but when it comes to Jesus interfering with our everyday life, we’re out. When it comes to Jesus affecting who we talk to, the house we buy, the car we drive, who we marry or date, the jobs we do and don’t take, or the battles we fight, that’s when we tap out.
I am called to be a liberator. You are called to be a justice seeker. Y’all are called to be advocates. We are called to it all of this because I can’t fix this world on my own. You can’t solve world hunger, or rape culture, or racism on your own, but together we can. If we all started taking a more active role in our faith, letting Jesus interrupt our lives, in the little decisions and the big decisions–if we all started acting like this Jesus guy, like the Christians we’re called to be–maybe just maybe we can start gaining some ground for the oppressed, and then maybe we can start changing the hearts of the oppressors.
Just some random musings for the evening.