Homily on the Death of Moses, Deuteronomy 34: 1-12

SMM, October 24-25, 2020  (Pentecost XXI, year A)

The Most Rev’d Colin R. Johnson

There is a true story of one of our chaplains at an Anglican Independent School who was in a quandary.  A member of the Royal Family was coming to the chapel for a special service and was to read the Psalm, except that the Psalm appointed for the day was rather unfortunate in the circumstances:  It included the line: “Put no trust in princes.”  The chaplain phoned the Area Bishop for advice and he asked, “What is said at the end of readings?”  “The word of the Lord,” replied the chaplain.  “Well,” said the bishop, “Is it or isn’t it?”  And the Psalm was read as appointed.  Afterwards the royal prince commented to the chaplain, “An interesting reading, I say – who made that choice?”  The chaplain replied without batting an eyelid, “I believe it was a liturgical commission appointed by your mother.”

I am certain that the framers of the lectionary did not have us at SMM in mind decades ago when they appointed Deuteronomy 34 as our first reading for today.

The story of the death of Moses some 3200 years ago and the transition of leadership at a pivotal point of new crisis for the People of Israel, was not written with the difficult changes in leadership in this parish in view, nor the upcoming move of our Area Bishop, Jennie Andison, to take up a new parish appointment as rector, nor even the spectacle of the fraught election now underway with our American neighbours.

This story is not an allegory.  There is no neat one-to-one mapping of current names or events unto ancient characters.

But it is the word of God.  In dialogue with the text, both in its historical context and in conversation with our present situation, what might we hear of the Word of God addressed to us today?

In this story there are real elements of tragedy and unfairness.  Moses is a magnificent figure.  Born into slavery and slated for a genocidal death as an infant by a frightened Pharaoh, he is improbably raised as a prince in Pharaoh’s own household.  In an act in response to injustice and in reclaiming his own heritage, he kills an Egyptian persecuting a Hebrew, and then runs for his life.  He makes a new life for himself in the wilds of the Sinai, employed as a shepherd by his father-in-law, a priest of a foreign god.

And then, out of the blue – or actually, out of a burning bush! – Moses is called by the living God to serve God’s people.  Moses protests his inadequacy, his disability, his lack of credibility with anybody.  God calls anyway and promises to be with Moses step-by-step.  And Moses listens and obeys – and, step-by-step, God is with Moses and provides what is needed.

We know the story of the Exodus – it is the foundational event of the Jewish-Christian identity – in Matthew’s account of the Gospel, the Exodus is recapitulated in the life of Jesus, who is the new Moses, the law-giver and law-fulfiller.

Moses, the great leader, is tasked to bring the People of Israel against all odds out of Egypt into the Promised Land – the land promised by God to the ancestors – Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and their progeny forever – a land lost for generations during their captivity in Egypt and now about to be reclaimed.

Moses did not have an easy time in leadership: disputes, challenges to the vision, learning to delegate, impatience, missteps and wrong turns, rebellion, idolatry, a yearning for what they knew (even if it was a life of slavery, you at least knew what to expect!), hunger, thirst, disappointments, deaths.  And the big question just lying under the surface: was God even there? Through it all, Moses knew God was there – “Moses was seen by God face-to-face.”  And God provided: vision, courage, direction, manna, water and above all, a new community – a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in the language of last week’s lessons. [I Peter 2]

The thing was, it was not Moses who was leading.  God, Yahweh, was leading God’s people, to the Land of his Promise, working in tandem with his servant Moses and with all of the people.  God was in charge. 

And at one point, Moses forgot that. 

A political scientist commenting on this text said that Moses became comfortable in his role and began to act as if he possessed independent power and judgement that could be exercised at his own discretion apart from Yahweh’s direction.  [Timothy Simpson, “The politics of being replaced – Deuteronomy 34: 1-12”]  That is the ultimate act of idolatry: replacing God.

Moses quickly repented but the harm was done and the consequences remained.  So Moses’ vocation was only partially fulfilled in his lifetime.  He was given the gift to see the Promised Land – perhaps not only as it was but as it would be.  He stood on the mountain top and glimpsed the glory.  But he himself could not go in. 

Tragic as it appears, and it is, this is not recounted as a tragic tale in the scriptures.  Moses is not angry or defiant on the mountain top. He does not rail at injustice.  He spends his last days preparing the people for what is to come and reminding them of their core identity that will carry them forward if they so choose.  They are to love God with all their heart, mind, soul and strength.  They are to put nothing other in place of God.  And if they do obey they will be choosing life.  He urges them: choose life!  He dies (the text says) at the command of God, still full of vigor and vision even in old age. The text implies that God buries him, the grave  unmarked and unknown.  Moses does not need a monument for people to keep coming back to in order to keep his memory – his monument is the life of the People of God whom he was incredibly, unexpectedly privileged, under God, to tend and challenge and nurse.  His monument is not their past but their future – what they will become.  His eulogy is full of praise for what he has done, not of regret for what could not be.

The people truly mourn Moses’ death but they have not yet completed their vocation.  There comes a time for the journey to continue.  As central as Moses has been, the flourishing of the People of Israel does not ultimately depend on him.  There is a new challenge ahead that calls forth new leadership under Yahweh’s continued direction: Joshua is raised up  the lead. There is work to do, a land to be won, a destiny to be fulfilled.  Their hope does not lie in any one person no matter how crucial that person was at a particular stage.  Hope rests in the One who alone can do what Moses cannot.

More than 1000 years later, when Jesus is asked, in an adversarial debate meant to set him up, what is the most important thing, the greatest of the laws, he responds with words from the law given to Moses – “Love the Lord you God with all your heart, and all your mind, and all your soul, and all your strength”.  And he adds a second like it, also from the Mosaic Torah, “Love your neighbour as yourself.”

 “Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses whom the Lord knew face-to-face.”  What an acclamation!

Never that is until Christ.  “Jesus Christ does not know the Lord face-to-face; Christ is the Lord’s face, God’s very presence, who shows the world God’s will.  “The word was made flesh and dwelt among us..and we beheld his glory, the glory of the only begotten son full of grace and truth.”  (John 1) In Christ, God gives the world God's word, and that word is life, even in the face of death. God remains true to God's "Word"! This is the reality of God's character and the good news that enables us to discover hope and new life in the midst of our many questions.”
[see  Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary - Feasting on the Word – Year A, Volume 4: Season After Pentecost 2 (Propers 17-Reign of Christ).]

Jesus or in Hebrew, Jeshua or Joshua. 

George Appleton, former Anglican Bishop of Jerusalem, framed this as a prayer that speaks to the heart of the issue that Moses knew, and forgot and then learned again, even as we do:

O God, I know that if I do not love thee with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my soul and with all my strength, I shall love something else with all my heart and mind and soul and strength. Grant that putting thee first in all my loving I may be liberated from all lesser loves and loyalties, and have thee as my first love, my chiefest good, and my final joy. Amen.  ~ George Appleton, Oxford Book of Prayer”

Moses did not have extraordinary personal gifts.  He was often in over his head.  He was uncertain.  He was distraught at times.  He wanted to give up.  He had to learn to share power.  He over reached himself.  He repented and carried on.  He learned the hard task of obedience and found life in the road of service to a bigger cause.  He knew that the kingdom of God is a work in progress and he was just one contributor to it.  He knew that the ongoing life of the community as they moved forward in faith and hope was more important than any one person.  He learned again and again, that the mission was God’s not his.  He did not have to carry it.  God was always there.  Even as he died, he had found himself liberated from lesser loves and loyalties and claimed God as “his first love, his chiefest good and his final joy.”

He is counted among the blessed.

Is there word of God for us?

“O God… Grant that putting thee first in all our loving we may be liberated from all lesser loves and loyalties, and have thee as our first love, our chiefest good, and our final joy.

God calls us through our baptism into Jesus Christ to join in building God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.  We are brought not alone but into a community of faith that seeks to love God and all that God loves.  We are nurtured together through word and sacrament, bread for the journey, a communal foretaste of the kingdom for which we work and yearn.  Each of us has an essential and unique, collaborative part in its creation. 

But only a part.  It’s God’s project.  We are not the creator or finisher but co-workers.  We do what we can, not what we can’t. New circumstances draw out new gifts.  We find ourselves stretched out our comfort zones.   We do the work, even if we cannot see immediate results or get easy gratification.  The Exodus journey, after all, was never easy and often seemed futile – the Promised Land just a pipe dream.  Forty years in the wilderness is brutal! 

Yet hope prevails: hope in the One in whom all our hope is founded.  Hope in the One who remains constant, faithful and steadfast.  Like primary teachers working with their young students, or parish priests with their parishioners, or parents with their kids, or the elderly with those they mentor, we know that even if we ourselves don’t see the fruition of our labour - of the project -  of the mission - in our own time, we have joined in making it a little more real.  In God’s time, the kingdom will come and be fully accomplished.  And it will be worth the journey, worth the work, worth the wait.