Note: On Tuesdays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
On one occasion, after Moses had grown up, when he had gone out to his kinsmen and witnessed their forced
labor, he saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his own kinsmen. Looking about and seeing no one, he struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. The next day he went out again, and now two Hebrews were fighting! So he asked the culprit, “Why are you striking your companion?” But he replied, “Who has appointed you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moses became afraid and thought, “The affair must certainly be known.” (Genesis 2:11-14, NABRE)
We learn through other readings and works that Moses was forty when the event described in today’s first reading occurred. Yes, he knew his heritage, thanks to his mother, but to the world, he was preparing to become Egypt’s next pharaoh. But when he saw the beating of the Hebrew, he acted, perhaps instinctively. Moses didn’t think anyone knew… until he was called on it the following day. And a sobering thing that had to be, indeed. All of a sudden, the future looked very, very different, and very, very uncertain.
So Moses fled—not only from Pharaoh’s executioners, but also into the Lord’s plans for him.
It happens to us as well, if we open ourselves to God. Perhaps we’re perfectly happy with no one knowing about our heritage, our faith, our morals. We lie, or at least don’t tell the full truth, in situations so that we don’t upset anyone or make waves. Then comes the day when, like Moses, we see something so egregious that we have to act. What triggers us may not be physical abuse; maybe it’s one too many jokes about Catholics or one too many assumptions that our views are the same as our colleagues’ or the world’s, even though those views are counter to what’s in our souls and teachings.
On that day, we “come out,” if you will. We state our true beliefs on abortion, immigration, the death penalty, homelessness, or whatever other hot topic causes us to cross the Rubicon. All of a sudden, the future looks very, very different and very, very uncertain; colleagues, friends, and maybe even family members start to avoid us.
Having no real alternative, we flee into the Lord’s loving plans for us. And there we find, as Moses did, that the future is definitely different from what we have expected—but it is far from uncertain.
