A Monument to Moses

A sermon preached at the Cathedral of St. Paul, Erie for October 25 online worship with the people of the Partnership Dioceses of Western New York and Northwestern Pennsylvania and (in slightly adapted form) preached outside (wearing a mask and distanced) with the people of St. Mark’s Episcopal Church in Erie, Pennsylvania.

Video of the sermon is available on YouTube.

After reaching the mountain, God says to Moses: here is the promised land. You may look upon it, but you will not make it there. You are going to die.

All this time, through all these trials in Egypt, in the desert — all this work. it was not for the glory or comfort of this one great leader. It was for the benefit God’s people. It was not a race to make sure Moses made it to some kind of holy finish line. It was a lifelong mission to benefit the community. God’s community: past, present, future.

God’s prophet Moses was buried in a valley in an unmarked grave no one can find. No obelisks or imposing tombs for Moses. We see the monument to Moses when we see God’s enduring, life-giving community at work, rolling along to this day.

Every time I hear this morning’s reading from Deuteronomy, I think of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s final “Mountaintop” speech. Given on April 3, 1968, at the Mason Temple in Memphis, Tennessee, King took the account of Moses’ death as his text for the speech.

“I just want to do God's will,” King said. “And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. So I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”[i] King was killed the next day. 

I wonder: what it would be like if we all heard God whisper in our ear each morning: here is the promised land. You may look upon it, but you will not make it there. You are going to die.

What if we allowed a vision of the promised land to propel us in our work on behalf of God’s just and loving community; to inspire us to enact God’s boundless love for all people? What if we allowed ourselves to understand our work to be – first and foremost, not secondarily – for the thriving and safety of the wider community of God’s diverse people, not for ourselves and those closest to us? What if we allowed the daily reminder this life is  finite to lend urgency to our work at the same time as it calls us to focus on the present, knowing we will likely not see the culmination of our work during our lifetime?

Like King and Moses before him, we are walking along a piece of the timeline of human history that seems to be shaky. We are walking through a time of great transition and change: for ourselves, our families, our church, our nation and our world.

We will feel disoriented in times of great transition and change. We will feel scared. We will feel sadness. We will feel despair. And we must allow ourselves space for lament. Space to feel these feelings. God’s people need not play act at positivity or happiness – this is not our role. Nor is our role to step back from the challenges of our time, throwing up our hands in despair or frustration.

 Our role is to live in the hope of God. Our role is to live remembering God’s promise is real. Our role is to commit ourselves to love and justice in community even in the midst of a shockingly individualist culture. Our role is to remember, despite what marketing would have us believe, that death will come. And our role, always, is to remember that death is not the end of the story. That we will live. This is the hope of God in Christ. This is the urgency of a life committed to that hope.  

Each one of us is a player in this ever-unfolding story of God and God’s people – Moses, Joshua, Dr. King, me, you. And each time we act with love within and alongside our communities for peace, and justice for the good of all people, we are a collective piece of that monument to Moses.

[i] https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/ive-been-mountaintop-address-delivered-bishop-charles-mason-temple