O, I Am, Who Am I?

Exodus 3:1-12; Romans 8:18-25; Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43

A favorite story among research scientists, several years ago, was one about a future president of the United States who assembled the nation's greatest scientists around him and asked them to build the biggest, fastest, and smartest computer the world has ever known. "When it is finished," he said, "I want to ask it the most important question ever asked."

A few years and several billion dollars later, the giant electronic brain was completed. Soon, the president of the United States came before this marvelous machine and asked it the most important question ever asked. He asked: "Is there a God?"

Well, immediately, lights flashed, wheels whirled, chemicals bubbled. And the room was hushed as the machine gave the answer to the question, "Is there a God?": The machine said, "There is now!"

Certainly, for the time that humanity has been on the earth there has been a quest to find and know God. The book of Genesis even has a story about how the human race, in its attempt to find God, built a huge tower at Babel, but was not able to complete the project because they found that they could no longer communicate with each other. In fact, as we look at the history of the world, the greatest buildings that were ever built, the pyramids of Egypt, were built for one sole purpose: so that persons might find their way to heaven. Indeed, in ancient times it was strongly believed that if you could go up high enough you could reach heaven and live among the gods.

And as we look at our Old Testament lesson, today, from the book of Exodus, we see how Moses, himself, met God on top of a mountain, while tending the sheep of his father-in-law, Jethro. For Moses, it seemed natural that God would come to him disguised as a burning bush on a mountain top. For mountains were supposed to be the footstools of the gods.

Where does God reside, for us? Most of us know, of course, that God is everywhere. So, for many of us, it doesn't seem logical that one place should be any more special than any other place. And, yet, there are many people who claim to feel God's presence in some places more than in others. Perhaps this is simply because many of us are more open to God's presence when we are in those special places.

I know that for a lot of you this church is one of those special places. Some of you have told me that as you come through the doors of this church you suddenly feel the Spirit's tugging at your heart. And this is good. And, there are, no doubt, some special things that when you look at them you are reminded that God is calling your name. Perhaps it is the cross at the front of the church, or the stained glass windows, or simply the sight of the pews.

Several years ago, when I was serving the United Methodist Church at Strawberry Point, I remember having to go into the sanctuary, one night, in order to get something. And I happened to have my daughter, Heather, with me, at the time. And she was only about four years old. The sanctuary was dark, the only light coming from the red glow of the eternal light above the altar. And I remember as we walked in there together, Heather took my hand, and said with a voice full of awe: "Daddy, God is here!"

Our lesson from the Old Testament tells us that when Moses went up onto the mountain he heard God calling to him from a bush that seemed to glow as if it was on fire. In a soft voice it called, "Moses! Moses!" And Moses answered, "Here I am."

You know, in the midst of all the other things that call our name, I wonder if it is perhaps a little harder for us to hear God calling us, these days. Just think of all the ways our name is called, anymore: For example, just a little while ago I got one of those letters that had my name printed on the outside: "Paul G. Donelson!" it said, "You may be the lucky winner of ten million dollars!" And I felt compelled, I felt driven!, to open that envelope and follow the instructions so that somebody else wouldn't win my prize. And even though I don't ever win anything or know anyone else who has, I put that 29¢ stamp on the envelope and take it to the post office as quickly as I can so that I may win the special prize for getting the entry in early.

But, there's more. Lot's of people call my name. I haven't lived here much longer than a month and already I got a telephone call from someone wanting to sell me aluminum siding for my house at a special, low, introductory offer. And as I stood there in the kitchen listening to this man on the phone telling me how my house had been specially selected to receive this wonderful introductory offer I felt almost compelled to accept it. It sounded so gracious! I mean, what a deal! And then I remembered that I don't own the house I live in. And, more, brick houses don't need siding, anyway. So, I quietly hung up on the guy.

If it isn't junk mail, or junk phone calls, it's someone else calling our name! Everyone from Uncle Sam to Sam's Wholesale, from Oral Roberts to Robert Schuller, is calling our name. So, perhaps it is a little harder for some of us to hear God calling us than it used to be.

But, still, we can listen. And sometimes listening takes a little effort. It takes a little effort to find those places where we can be open to God's voice. For Moses it took a walk up a mountain side. For us, it may mean a hike to the church. For Moses it meant looking up and noticing something unusual glowing on a rocky peak. For us, it may mean getting away from the rush of life long enough to find what God has prepared for us.

For Moses, on that mountain side, there was much prepared. God told him how he had heard the cries of the Hebrew people and was concerned about their oppression. God told Moses that he had chosen him to be the one who would let his people go.

At this, Moses responded in astonishment: "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" Indeed, when we have heard God calling our name, whether it be directly or indirectly, we may also respond in astonishment: "Who am I?" But, that is exactly the question we should ask when ever we are touched by the One who is, who was, and ever shall be. For an encounter with such Power, such Love, and such Purpose should, indeed, cause us to redefine who we are. When ever we are faced with the transcendence of God we have no other choice than to ask, "Who am I?"

The Hebrew people called God, "Yahweh." The word simply meant, "I Am." It came from the belief that if there was one thing in the universe which had permanence, it was God. For God is the beginning and God is the end. God made everything that exists. Without God nothing would exist. If anyone had the right to be called, "I Am," it was God. For without God we are nothing. It is through God that we are defined. It is through "I Am" that we are.

I am reminded of the story of a person known to many as Helga Sue Gronowitz. When Helga Sue Gronowitz failed to keep an appointment with her guidance counselor at Twin Lakes High School in West Palm Beach, Florida, the counselor was not particularly surprised. After all, in a school of 2,000 students with a full roster of extracurricular activities, it is not uncommon for a student to miss an appointment or two.

Still, Helga Sue was not just any student. But her junior year the pretty, blue-eyed blonde had amassed a substantial number of honors. She was a member of the Debate Boosters club, the swimming team, the Red Cross club; she had written several stories for the school newspaper; she had been a candidate for the student council and an entrant in a contest to name a Miss Twin Lakes.

So when Helga Sue repeatedly failed to respond to messages rescheduling her appointment, the guidance counselor began to ask questions. Helga Sue's friends attempted to cover for her. The explanation proved to be imaginary. So did Helga Sue. Twin Lake High's favorite student did not exist.

Helga Sue's name became known throughout the school because she was often paged over the public address system: "Will Helga Sue Gronowitz come to the office? Your mother has brought your lunch." Then there was her ad in the Palm Beach Post, offering walruses for sale. But it was not until the guidance counselor investigated that Helga Sue was officially exposed.

While a few a few faculty members had gradually become aware of Helga Sue's non-existence, the school principal had not. When asked about the girl, he said, "I can't exactly place her, but the name does ring a bell."

Again and again, as I have encountered God in my life, I am constantly reminded that without God giving definition to my being I am of no more significance than Helga Sue Gromowitz. For if there is anything which has permanence, if there is anything that will not wither like the grass or the flower of the field, as Isaiah put it, it is God and those who find themselves in him. Amen.