Sermon – A Case for Trespasses

Exodus 3:1-6; Exodus 3:7-14; 4:1-15

Farmville Presbyterian Church

8/31/25

 

Some of you are out there wondering right now why I am concerned about the need to go frolicking through other peoples’ territories today.  When I was a child, we had a wide expanse of woods behind my house in the middle of what seemed like a sea of kudzu in rural South Carolina.  We would run through the woods for hours and explore.  There was a good bit of time spent in the creek where I found the hub of a wagon wheel without knowing that was what it was.  I have no idea whose land it was back there, though, and was probably trespassing back in those days.  That was about the end of my trespassing ways, though.  I do try to stay where I am supposed to stay and abide with permissions that I have.  This was especially important in my hunting years.

Today’s trespassing is not that kind of trespassing, and the especially astute among you may have already figured out that I might be referring to the difference in the Lord’s Prayer between what we say as Presbyterians with our “debts and debtors” compared to what most the rest of the English speaking world seems to say with “trespasses and those who trespass against us.”  It is actually bizarre how every English Bible that I can find going back to the 1599 Geneva, the oldest English Bible, says “debts and debtors” just like we do in the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6.  Yes, this includes the King James.  Yet, a 1928 prayer book seems to have scripted the prayer for most of everyone by using “trespasses” as an antiquated synonym for sin.  The point, however, is interesting.  “Trespasses” is an important way of thinking about how we relate to each other.  We can literally trespass on each other’s property, and we can figuratively trespass on each other’s lives when we cross personal boundaries and fail to honor each other’s personhood.  We are drawing lines all the time between us and asking or even demanding that others do not cross.  You know some of these lines because they are the understood laws between us.  Some, of course, are even expressed laws that if we violate, we will be prosecuted.

What happens, however, when God wants to cross lines?  Or in other words, does God trespass?  This gets a little trickier.

I’ve never thought about it this way, but the Exodus story is full of people (including God) crossing lines, testing relationships, and figuring out how they will get along.  My oldest daughter, the one getting married, was our tester.  If we told her what to do when she was quite little, she had her days when she would do the opposite just to prove that she was in charge of herself.  And when she was sent to punishment, she endured it with gusto.  Our second daughter still defied us but did it out of sight.  That was probably easier.  And our third daughter was the sensitive one who couldn’t handle it when we fussed, so she didn’t get into trouble.

Today in Exodus, the first one is God.  The beginning of Exodus has God watching from outside, largely uninvolved.  I think there is a reason for this, to make it much more dramatic when God does take action.  And God’s first action is a big one – calling to Moses in a way never seen before from a burning-but-not-consumed bush.  God crashes into the story in this powerful way and right from the beginning draws lines.   “Moses, do not walk here with sandals on.  This is holy ground.”  Moses is cowed with fear and cannot look toward the bush.  God invited Moses into that sacred space, but he had to come on God’s terms.  We can never dictate God’s will, but that is because God’s will is better.  God knows better and does better and wills better.  God is love, and that love created the universe and all of us.  It certainly stands to reason that that will should direct our wills.  God gets to draw all the lines God wants.  Our lines are shakier.

Moses gets to learn this the hard way.  The rest of this encounter is Moses drawing lines and God blowing through them.  Moses does NOT want to go and continues to find excuses.  Of course, it does not matter.  God driving the narrative.  Every attempt by Moses to stand in the way is obliterated:

  • Who am I that I should go to Pharoah? (I will be with you)
  • What shall I say is the name of the God who has sent me? (I AM/the God of ancestors)
  • They may not believe me in Egypt. (staff/leprosy/Nile blood)
  • I am not eloquent. (a. I God make the ability to speak and b. Aaron)

Have we ever drawn lines between us and God?  We absolutely do this even today.  We make excuses.  We demand terms.  We require signs.  We try to delay.  We ignore.  In the meantime, lives go on without the blessing they need.  We go on without being blessed as we need.  The moment we turn down God’s invitation, we are just like barefoot Moses trying to draw lines in God’s sacred space.  Do not be quick to tell God what is OK and what is not OK.  Each and every one of us is here to be God’s agent in this world.  We are here to follow where we are led, even in places where we might be trespassing.  Moses was being asked to walk right back into the mouth of the lion and ask the Pharoah to do the unthinkable that would absolutely make the Pharoah furious.  Sure, he was scared, but God never asks us to do the easy thing or the convenient thing.  We are asked to do the right thing.  We are here to defy the demands of a broken world with the answer of reconciling Love.  To God be the glory.  Amen.