May I Ask Who’s Calling?
Long ago, in the olden days when I was a girl, and the dinosaurs were really, really big, if the telephone would ring, there was no way to know who was calling. Call-waiting didn’t exist. No caller ID was available. Only one telephone per household was the general rule. Some households didn’t have phones at all.
In those days, if a caller asked to speak with a particular person in the household or business, the correct and expected response was, “May I ask who’s calling?” or “Who may I say is calling?” The caller would normally respond with a name and the person who answered would respond, “I will tell him/her (them).”
I thought of this when reflecting on the reading from the book of Exodus. As you will recall, Moses had grown up in Egypt, under the protection of one of Pharaoh’s family, though he was an Israelite boy who should have been killed shortly after his birth. As a young man, he had killed a man who was abusing an Israelite slave and had to flee the country. He ended up in the land of Midian, married to the daughter of a priest of the land, and became a simple shepherd.
One day, as he was tending the sheep, he saw an amazing sight. A bush was burning. Bushes burn in dry lands, usually pretty quickly, with potentially disastrous results. This bush, however, was not a danger to the surrounding landscape. The bush was not burning up. It was not being consumed by the flames. It was just sitting there burning.
Moses went closer and a voice came from the bush, calling his name, “Moses! Moses!” Moses responded, “Here I am.” As he prepared to come closer to the bush, the voice told him to wait, to remove his sandals first. This ground was holy, because the God of the fathers of Moses’ people was present there. “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.”
Moses hid his face, knowing that to see God would be dangerous. But the Lord told him why he had come. “I have witnessed the affliction of my people in Egypt and have heard their cry of complaint… Therefore, I have come down to rescue them…”
Wait! What? Rescue the Hebrew people from Egypt? OK. How? On whose orders?
So, Moses wondered, “when I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,” what do I tell them your name is? (Name in this context refers to power and authority as well as what a person is called.) This is a pretty bold thing to say to God, but the bush was burning and a voice coming from it, so it’s all pretty unusual anyway. “God replied, “I am who am.” But you can simply tell them, “I AM sent me to you.” (Ex 3:1-8a, 13-15)
“Who may I say is calling?”
“I Am … The Lord, the God of your fathers.” He “has sent me to you.”
We remember the story yet today and tell it each year. Our Jewish sisters and brothers also remember it and celebrate the Exodus and all that led to it at Passover. Muslims too revere Moses and remember his encounter with the Lord and all that resulted.
As the Hebrew people went out into the desert on their way to the Promised Land, many surprises awaited them. It was a hard time, with shortage of food and water at times and a longing to return to stability and order, even if that meant hard, forced labor in Egypt. They grumbled. They complained. They despaired and created a Golden Calf to worship. They doubted God’s promises. It took forty years in the desert before their children and grandchildren were allowed to enter the land from which their ancestors had come during the time of the great famine in the days of Jacob and Joseph. The Lord was with them, but earlier, they were not ready as a people to enter the new land and way of living.
St. Paul, in his first letter to the people of Corinth, spoke of those years in the desert. Although all had traveled with the cloud to guide them, crossed through the sea together, eaten the same food from heaven, and received water to drink from the stone, they still grumbled and disobeyed. Their journey and its delays and the consequences of their disbelief and disobedience are an example to us of how NOT to behave. We have seen the coming of the savior. The end times are upon us. The kingdom is here and coming ever more fully into being. Like the Hebrews, when we hear the Lord calling, we must answer. Who’s calling? The Lord, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob. We are children of Abraham too. We are also to listen to his call and respond. (1 Cor 10:1-6, 10-12)
Sometimes we think that Israel, including the northern area known as Galilee, was a peaceful place in the time of Jesus. After all, the Romans had conquered the area. There were no more wars with neighboring countries. Sure, there were soldiers everywhere who could make unreasonable demands and act like bullies, but there was no war going on…
In reality, rebellions occurred. A group of people in Galilee had rebelled and been killed by Pilate, the Roman official who governed the area. When people told Jesus about this, he responded that it is important to realize that suffering such as that experienced by those killed on Pilate’s orders was not because they were great sinners. Everyone sins. The critical thing is to repent, to recognize that we as humans are not perfect. We all mess up. We all make wrong choices. We all sin.
Jesus told a story about a fig tree. This tree had grown in an orchard and been expected to bear fruit when it reached maturity. But the tree produced no fruit. The owner of the orchard noticed that the tree was old enough, but there were no figs. After three years of fruitless harvest times, the owner told the gardener to cut it down, presumably so another tree could be planted and grow in its place to produce fruit.
But the gardener cared about the tree and begged for a second chance for it. “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future.” However, this would not go on forever. If the tree remained barren in the coming year, “you can cut it down.” Lk 13:1-9)
In the Gospel of Luke, the story ends there. We don’t hear what happened to the tree. Jesus didn’t tell us, but rather, left us to ponder what that might mean for us, especially in light of his reminders that bad things happen to everyone, whether as consequences of their actions or not. The important thing is to try each time we fail to change our behavior and do better the next time around.
“Who may I say is calling?”
Is ours a strong, demanding, vengeful god who delights in punishing sinners? The Psalmist provides the answer in Psalm 103. “Merciful and gracious is the Lord, slow to anger and abounding in kindness.” “He pardons all your iniquities, heals all your ills.” “The Lord secures justice and the rights of all the oppressed.” (Ps 103: 1-2, 3-4, 6-7, 8, 11)
Who is calling you today? Who is calling me?
This same God, the merciful, the kind, the protector of the “little ones” who need extra care, the one who sends help in time of trial, this God is the one who came to Moses in the burning bush. This God is the one who heard the cries of the poor and sent a messenger to rescue them. This God is the one who gives the fig tree and the sinner another chance. This God is the one who expects those who have blessings of security, power, education, health, and the respect of the peoples of the world to behave with kindness and compassion, sharing the gifts we have received. This God does not condemn those whose ways of living, whose customs, whose sense of themselves are different from those of the dominant culture or the culture of ancient peoples who first met him.
As a people, we must today ask ourselves, if the Lord calls and asks for you or for me, will we respond quickly and faithfully. Will we speak out against abuses of the poor, the immigrant, those whose lands have been invaded by neighbors who wish to control them? Will we work for justice? Will we remember those who work hard but still cannot afford health care or education without help from the larger community? Will we demand that those who wield power in our governments follow the laws that have governed us for two hundred fifty years?
God does not come from the heavens with avenging angels on thunderous clouds. But when peoples and individuals do not remember the source of the gifts received, the freedoms offered, and the importance of sharing them freely, the consequences will fall heavily on all.
I pray that as we enter the third week of Lent, we listen deeply and carefully to the warnings of our ancestors. When the answer to the question, “Who may I say is calling?” is, “The Lord our God,” may we be open to receive his presence and become channels of his love to everyone we meet and with whom we share this beautiful world.
Readings for the Third Sunday of Lent – Cycle C
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