HIStory: the story of a God who ... calls and empowers his people
Exodus 3.1-5.21
Milford Baptist Church, 23 June 2002

There's a story about an Irishman, a Mexican and a blonde guy, who were doing construction work on the scaffolding of a building. They were eating lunch and the Irishman said, in despair, "Corned beef and cabbage! If I get corned beef and cabbage one more time for lunch I'm going to jump off this building." The Mexican opened his lunch box and exclaimed, "Burritos again! If I get burritos one more time I'm going to jump off, too." The blonde guy opened his lunch and said, "Marmite again. If I get a marmite sandwich one more time I'm jumping too."

The next day the Irishman opened his lunch box, saw corned beef and cabbage and in despair jumped off the building. The Mexican opened his lunch, saw a burrito and jumped too. The blonde opened his lunch, saw the marmite sandwich and jumped off the building as well. They all broke their legs and ended up in the same hospital ward.

In the hospital, the Irishman's wife was distraught: "If only I'd known how really tired he was of corned beef and cabbage I never would have given it to him again!" The Mexican's wife also said, "I could have given him tacos! I didn't realize he hated burritos so much." Everyone turned and stared at the blonde's wife. "Hey, don't look at me," she said, "He makes his own lunch."

Ever felt like those men? Ever felt like jumping? I think that all of us at one time or another feel frustrated and desperate.

This week I was reading in the paper about the suicide bus bombing in Jerusalem that killed 20 people. The 22 yr old Palestinian terrorist left a suicide note with the words: "How beautiful it is to make my bomb shrapnel kill the enemy. How beautiful it is to kill and to be killed." In retaliation the Israeli government issued a statement that it would capture Palestinian territory and hold it as long as the terror continues. De ja vu? Any attempts to broker a lasting peace, and make a lasting difference, seem hopeless.

These sort of problems aren't only overseas. In the same paper this week I read about Falealii, the 18 year old South Auckland kid who has pleaded guilty to the fatal shootings of John Vaughan and Marcus Doig. For years the teenager has struggled with behavioural difficulties. His parents and schools have done what they could to make a difference, held regular family group conferences, provided counselling. But no change. It just seemed hopeless. For hundreds of young people in New Zealand today, life seems hopeless. And for most of them the church is the last place they'd go for help. Helmut Thielicke said, "The Gospel must be continuously forwarded to a new address because the recipient is repeatedly changing his place of residence." And according to one Australian writer, "The current address for the average young person is as far from the church as the east is from the west."

There are massive needs all around us. The needs of our world, our country, our family, our friends. And God has called us to give ourselves in loving service to meet those needs. But what can we do? How can we meet these needs? How do we connect with the emerging culture? How can we see this church throbbing with transformed lives? How can we make a difference? We're tired, we're busy, we're uncertain. We're caught between massive needs and personal inadequacy. It seems impossible. Turn with me to Exodus 3.1-12

Tonight on TV3, I think, there's the film, Mission Impossible. Tom Cruise plays special agent Ethan Hunt, who receives special instructions to undertakes covert operations that are so difficult they are virtually impossible missions. Here Moses receives a pretty special instruction. (The message doesn't self-destruct, though - exactly the opposite. The bush is on fire but the flames don't burn it up.) God instructs Moses to go to Egypt, organise a mass of broken and dispirited slaves, overcome the resistance of the world superpower of the day, and lead that slave people triumphantly out of Egypt. This is a mission impossible.

Moses, quite realistically, objects, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" (3.11) "Have you forgotten who I am?" Admittedly, his CV does not read all that impressively. Occupational status: shepherd, failed political revolutionary (Moses had already tried once to free his people, and failed in quite spectacular fashion.) Legal status: wanted in Egypt for murder and treason. Medical status: debilitating speech impediment (perfect for high-pressure diplomatic negotiations!) And his age: eighty. No wonder Moses insists that he's not qualified and that his own people, the Israelites, won't think he's qualified.

Can you identify with Moses, standing there all alone on a mountain in a desert, with nothing but his shepherd's staff to accomplish an impossible mission? We can find ourselves overwhelmed both by the task before us and the weakness in us. The questions perfectly natural: "Who am I...?"

But God says to Moses, "I will be with you." (3.12) "I will empower you to perform miraculous signs with your staff (4.21). I will enable you and your brother to speak, and teach you what to say (4.11,15)." In other words, God says to Moses, "Who you are is not nearly as important as who I am and who I will be. It is precisely through your weakness that I can best display my power. Your availability plus my ability will equal changed lives.

When I used to work in town my workmates and I observed a solemn weekly ritual. We'd scuttle at lunch down to the dingy video arcade parlour in Customs Street and compete against each other at Daytona 500, a racing car video game. I loved it. I wasn't very good at the game. Often came last. But the game was so designed that the car coming last (usually mine) was given special thrusters to increase its speed. So the further behind you fell, the faster your car could go. The less your ability, the greater the grace. It's the same with God. God calls slow people, weak people, unworthy people, like Moses or the Twelve Disciples. Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick ... I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Matt 9.12-13).

The apostle Paul knew that. He even boasted or delighted in his weaknesses because, he said, "When I am weak, then I am strong." Jesus had proven that his power was made perfect in Paul's weakness. "When I am weak, then I am strong."

Ian Grant once said, "If you're pursuing a dream from God, this will be the pattern. You have a dream. You make a decision. You meet with difficulty. You hit a dead-end. You cry out for deliverance. And then, once you have learned dependence, God delivers you and moves you on."

I know someone from another church who found himself, in his thirties, lying on a bed late at night in an alcohol rehabilitation centre. He wasn't a Christian. "In the middle of the night," he says, "Jesus walked into my room and said, 'It's now or never. Follow me. Give your life to me.'" The guy said, "Alright, I'll give you one year. You've got one year to make something of my life." Thirty years later he's still following Jesus. And Jesus is working through him wonderfully to make a difference in other people's lives. Our availability plus God's ability equals changed lives.

I was talking to Maurice Warth the other week. He told me how one day he and Eileen prayed for her leg to be healed. What seemed like a bolt of electricity surged through Eileen's leg, and it was healed. Just like that. Our availability plus God's ability equals changed lives.

Pierre was a homely French friar with a big nose. He was born into a noble family and served in the French Parliament during the 1940s when thousands of homeless beggars lived in the streets of Paris. He became increasingly frustrated by the slow pace of political change. He could not tolerate the endless debates by politicians while street people starved. During an unusually harsh winter, many of the Parisian beggars actually froze to death. In desperation, Pierre resigned his post, became a catholic friar to work among them. Failing to interest politicians or the community in the beggars' plight, he concluded that the only course was to organise the beggars. He taught them to do menial tasks themselves: Instead of sporadically collecting bottles and rags, the divided into teams to scour the city. Next he lead them to build a warehouse from discarded bricks and then start a business in which they sorted and processed vast quantities of used bottles from hotels and businesses. Finally Pierre inspired each beggar by giving him responsibility to help another beggar poorer than himself. The plan ignited, and within a few years an organisation called Emmaus was founded to expand Pierre's work in other countries. Thousands of lives were saved, transformed. Our availability plus God's ability equals changed lives.

I know that many of you have experienced the thrill of committing yourself to something bigger than you, getting involved in something beyond your ability, and watching God work miracles through you.

Today, as we face the world in our weakness, as we look at the mission before us and the inadequacy within us, it's not impossible. Because God says, "I will be with you." And he is the one who can achieve the impossible if we will just make ourselves available. Our availability plus God's ability equals changed lives. And mission accomplished.