The Life Cycle of Faith: The Faith of an Elder

Deuteronomy 34:1-8, 10-12; Luke 2:25-32

​"No one has ever shown the mighty power or performed the awesome deeds that Moses did in the sight of all Israel." This Deuteronomy quote shows us that Moses' relationship with God was unique in all of history. It is the conclusion of the Torah, the five books of the Hebrew Bible that form its core. Moses is the only person ever to relate to God face to face, so much so that it changed his appearance. At the end, Moses came to embody the faith of an elder. It is that stage that embraces "the life that really is life," as 1 Timothy 6:17-19 describes it.

If the faith of a child is typified by trust, the faith of a teenager by gumption, and the faith of an adult by responsibility, the faith of an elder is marked by a serene wisdom. The elder is able to discern that which is truly valuable. This is our stewardship theme this year: Enduring Treasures. The need for a successful career and a big house and the approbation of society fades away. The elder is able to discern between the ephemeral trappings of life and that which endures: the beauty of creation, the simple moments with friends and family, holding hands with one you love.

Sadly, these wise voices are being expunged from our culture through our obsession with youth. But the Bible tells us that gray hair is a crown of glory. And other cultures across the world, particularly many Asian and African cultures, have a strong tradition of valuing these voices.

Surprisingly, in many ways, it is the faith of a child you return to. Explanations are no longer important, and you are willing to embrace the mystery of existence, but with a wider wonder; you know so much more the good and the bad, and yet you realize life is even more incredible than you ever could have imagined.

I find myself here this morning, and at Brick in general, delighting in the faith of your children, who ask incredible questions in chapel, like "Is God real?" and whose eyes light up at Christmas when we sing those carols.

With all the questions and study and painful experiences my fifty-nine years have brought, I find the enthusiasm of those bedrock things I was taught as a child coming back into my heart in a powerful way. Simple things, like: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. The prayers have become more real to me, especially when we pray for the needs of the world. I relish those moments of fellowship, like the Fall Fling when we all saw each other again. And when I hear you all read Scripture—the holiness is more real than ever.

But the journey of faith is not a linear one, and we seem to be tossed to and fro from one phase to the next, and Moses was no exception. His early years were no key to his later greatness. It took him a long time, longer than most, to get there. As a youth, he was pampered and privileged in Pharaoh's court. As a teenager, he was on fire for justice for his people. Unable to control himself because of his anger and his desire to protect a fellow Hebrew, he killed a taskmaster, and he had to flee.

It was not until Moses was eighty years old that he entered into the faith of an adult. He was tending his flock on the hills when, off in the distance, he saw a bush that was burning but not consumed. He approached it and took off his shoes because God told him he was on holy ground. God charged him to deliver his people, but at first Moses balked.

And so God promised, "I will be with you." This marked the moment in which Moses began his journey as a prophet, never to be equaled by anyone in the history of the world.

The adult phase of faith frustrated him, especially the Israelite people. He was giving everything, and mostly all they could do was complain. The turning point came on one occasion when he was talking with God on top of Mount Sinai and, down below, the people were erecting a golden calf.

Moses came down, and in his fury he smashed the stone tablets, this incredible gift from God. The teenage faith was welling back up within him, unable to control his anger and his actions.

The danger of this phase of faith is being trapped in cynicism and becoming curmudgeonly, like one of those neighbors who is always yelling at the children, "Get off my lawn!"

Moses easily could have become bitter, because he had seen the people fail so often. And far from supporting him, they were constantly pressing him, and pressing him, and pressing him. At one point, he was so afraid of them that he thought they were getting ready to stone him, simply because he didn't magically provide them with more water than ever, whenever they needed it.

And yet, his love for his people was like a burning fire that consumed him. Right after he smashed the tablets, he was willing to be blotted out for their sake.

You see, Moses wasn't the only one frustrated. Earlier, on the mountain, God had been ready to give up on the Israelite people, telling Moses, "Let me alone. Stand aside and I will blot out the people of Israel and make of you a great nation."

Moses' faith had now deepened to the point that he was even willing to challenge God out of love for his people. He said, "Forgive their sin, or else blot me out of the book you have written." And indeed, God relented.

Moses would have one last moment of weakness, and his old impulse would return. The people were pressing him for water once again. He went to the Lord asking for help. God instructed him to take the trusty staff and speak to the rock. But Moses let his anger take over and did not trust the Lord. He struck the rock twice.

And God declared, "Because you did not trust Me to show My holiness in the sight of the Israelites, you will not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them."

Less than a year later, Moses stands on Mount Nebo. You can see the Promised Land from there. And he pleads with God, "Let me cross over." But God does not relent. "Enough. Speak to me no more of this matter." But God gives him one mercy: "Go up to the top of Pisgah and look with your own eyes."

And in the true faith of an elder, Moses accepts God's word and passes on the mantle of his leadership by blessing Joshua, trusting him for the final stage of this journey. It is the moment of acceptance.

And so, standing on Mount Nebo, he looks down into the land of promise. I can't begin to conceive everything that Moses was feeling at seeing this glorious land. Perhaps he is thinking back to the 120 impossible years that brought him to that view, and not just his 120 years, but the hundreds of years of slavery that his people knew was finally coming to an end. His whole life was meant for this moment: the burning bush, the struggles against Pharaoh, the awful angel of death, the Red Sea, the 40 years in the wilderness. Moses, the greatest prophet ever, the servant of the people, the eternal bargainer, the talker who debates God, is at this moment surprisingly quiet. He is at peace. The journey was over. They made it. And Moses was ready.

I believe that peace was echoed centuries later by Simeon, who saw the baby Jesus and declared, as we heard this morning, "O Lord, now let your servant depart in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared for all people, a light to the Gentiles, and glory to your people Israel."

Deuteronomy tells us who buries Moses. There is no crowd, no monument, no marker. The Hebrew says simply, "he buried him," and ancient tradition says it was God. Moses spent forty years carrying a people. At the end, he is carried. The faith of an elder ends where the faith of a child began: in the arms of One who can be trusted. That is the life that really is life. It is not the career, the house, or the approval of the world, but to be known face to face, and carried home. Amen.