Thursday Sermon: Need for Comforting Words

          Today's Gospel is one of the words of comfort.  In our lives, all of us need comfort, refreshment, rest.  We're in the midst of summer, and this is the time of year when people hope to get some refreshment. We hope to slow down a little, play a little more, have more time, here in the midsummer.  We take a trip, if we can afford one; relax a little at home, if we can't. We are tired. We need a break. A little refreshment. A little comfort.

          My sister has a small pack of grandchildren who spend a lot of time with them in the summer. Sometimes one of them will hurt themselves slightly -- scrape a knee, bang a funny bone, shut a finger in a drawer. The grandchild will pause, absorbing the shock of a sudden pain, and then, if one of the grandparents are nearby they will look at the hurt child. Sometimes the content of that look will determine whether the child goes on to wail at the top of their lungs and end up on their grandparent's lap for five minutes or else just laughs and says ouch. If someone seems receptive, a small injury becomes a good opportunity to soak up some serious comfort. If not, there are better things to do. Interesting, for a child, crying is not just a private response to grief or pain. It is also a form of communication, and a most effective tool for influencing the behavior of others.

          This is so often true, in fact, that a lot of us who are no longer children come to believe unconsciously -- that the people we care about will know we are crying even if they can't hear us. That the people we love will automatically know when we are sad.  

          There's a story about a woman who remembers crying in school once, in the second grade. Her teacher spoke firmly to her: "Stop right now!" she said, and she did, whispering silently to herself about how mean the teacher was. She called to her later to explain. If she had spoken gently to the child, she would have cried harder and found it harder to stop herself.  The teacher didn't mean to be sharp, but only wanted to help find her own strength. 

          Little as she was, she appreciated that explanation.  The teacher was right: her tone did help her pull herself together in a situation where crying was not appropriate. Comfort and refreshment isn't always a gentle, "There, there." Sometimes it's a sharp "Here, here." Comfort and refreshment doesn't usually fall magically into our laps from the sky. Usually, we must put ourselves in its way. Often, it does not come from someone more powerful than we are. Often, God sends us refreshment through another person who also needs it.

          Our Old Testament reading reminds us of the ups and downs in Moses' life.  Born under threat of death, he was put into a reed basket, rescued by an Egyptian princess, and raised in the palace.  There he learned along with the other royal sons, and became very well educated.  Now according to the movie so many of us are familiar with, he "discovered" that he was born to the Jews, but biblically speaking, there was no dramatic reveal.  He was, however, a very fair man, and when coming across an overseer beating a slave, he killed the overseer, and then fled for his life.  He settled in Midian, married and had children.  About that point, God got his attention through a bush that was on fire, but not burning, and told him to go and free his people from the Egyptians.  Moses was definitely not the most self-confident of people, and had excuse upon reason upon denial for God as to why he should not be the one to fulfill God's command. 

          So in today's lesson, Moses asks, what do I say when I am asked who sent me?  And here, we get the name of God.  Among Jews, it is the unpronounceable name of God, the Tetragrammaton.  But to describe it to others, God is the I AM that I AM – the very essence of existence.  And in today's lesson, Moses essentially hears what his mission is to be – to free all his people from Pharaoh, and speak on behalf of God. 

          We know that after that, Moses continues to argue that he is not eloquent, but for now, think about what Moses thought at the assignment he received from God.  We could suppose that Moses felt himself absolutely unequal to the task, to feel that God provides to him a very heavy burden, indeed. 

          Like Moses, there is no one who will not one day find themselves bearing a load too heavy to carry alone. None of us are self-sufficient, however strong or weak or rich or poor we may be. We are all in need of comfort, in need of refreshment, in need of rest. Blessed are those who know their need of it early; they are the ones who will put themselves in the way of the Comforter.  And they often are the same people who are first to offer comfort to others in need.