The scripture reading we heard from Exodus is a core identity story in Christianity – the parting of the Red Sea and the salvation of the people of God.  When God is referenced throughout scripture after this event, God is often described as the God who brought us out of the land of Egypt, across the dry land.  This is a pivotal moment that defines the kind of God that God is:  one who will not forever endure the oppression and suffering of God’s people; the God who will offer the oppressor multiple warnings and opportunities for repentance – nine plagues before offering the worst of the plagues at the Passover – when the first born of the Egyptians are all killed; a God who, when the oppressor keeps oppressing, raging after a people escaping through the dessert in nothing but sandals and their meager possessions, coming with the full force of strong horses and powerful chariots, a God who liberates God’s people and decimates the oppressor.  This passage is one of two mandatory readings from the possible list of nine readings at the Easter Vigil – a service whose entire purpose is to articulate the salvation narrative – the salvific work of God and our commission to witness to that God through our love of God and neighbor.  And, at its very root, this is a story that fascinates our children as many of them wonder what the walls of a parted sea look like – whether you could see fish or not. 

The primacy of this story, and the way the story of Moses parting the Sea of Reeds is so central to our understanding of God, often makes hearing this story with fresh ears difficult.  All we need to hear is “…Moses stretched out his hand…” and our eyes glaze over as the victorious image of salvation soothes our anxieties and makes us feel safe, protected, and at peace.  At least that is usually my experience of this narrative.  But this week, in the wake of the 25^th anniversary of the tragedy of September 11^th, my eyes gravitated to a part I had glossed over so many times before today.  The penultimate verse from today’s reading says, “Thus the Lord saved Israel that day from the Egyptians, and Israel saw the Egyptians dead on the seashore.”  I am usually captivated by the images of the rushing army, the blinding cloud, the scurrying across dry land in the middle of a sea, and the panic of horses and chariot drivers who express fear and regret before the seas return over their heads.  But this week, all I can imagine is the panting people of Israel, adrenaline still coursing through their veins, fear of death slowly subsiding as they look at the dead bodies of Egyptians on the seashore – the same Egyptians who spent their lifetimes oppressing the people of God and who now have no life left. 

This week I took on the discipline of listening to stories from StoryCorps about September 11^th.  StoryCorps was a project founded in 2003 that has since recorded hundreds of thousands of conversations, usually between two people, meant to document everyday American life.  Those stories are collected at the U.S. Library of Congress, but countless stories are available online and air weekly on public radio.  The story that caught my attention this week was of a woman who escaped the devastation of the Twin Towers, arriving at home that night with debris still in her pockets, who just days later, and for years thereafter did her job of helping identify the remains of those who died in the devastation.   When speaking to her daughter, she described the overwhelming experience of identifying the bodies of the terrorists who instigated the horror of that day and her life for so many years.  As families insisted terrorist bodies be separated from the bodies of the victims, she just stared paralyzed – not knowing what to feel about the remains of those terrorists.  In full confession she simply asked, “What do I do?  Am I mad at it?  Do I stomp on it?  What do I do with it?”[i] 

In the last twenty-five years, both in the days after that fateful day, but in the myriad experiences of the twenty-five years that originated from that day, my one conclusion about that eventful day is that the experience was complicated.  So many questions, so much anger, so much pain, so much loss, so many beautiful moments of grace and reconciliation, so much violence, so much trauma, and so many varied testimonies make telling that one story in our history complicated. 

For the longest time, complicated was not a word I would use for the story of Moses parting the Red Sea and God liberating God’s people from oppression.  But as I think about the trauma of slavery by pharaoh, the horror of plagues, the fear in escape, the noise of chasing chariots, the wonder of a parted sea, the relief of eliminated enemies, and the sight of those dead enemies on the seashore, complicated seems like the only word for this seemingly innocent tale of liberation. 

So, what do we do with the realization that one of our core narratives is so very complicated?  Scholar Cameron Howard argues, “…God’s love may be universal, but [God’s love] is not neutral.  God is never a neutral observer in any biblical account; God always takes sides.  In the exodus story, God chooses to liberate the Israelites from Egyptian bondage.  God has no patience for Pharaoh’s delusions of godly grandeur, nor for his vicious grasping at power and glory.  Similarly, Jesus’s death on the cross is no affirmation of the Roman Empire, but rather an indictment of its cruelty.  Jesus’s resurrection may not overthrow the Roman Empire, but [his resurrection] certainly exposes [the Empire’s] ultimate impotence and the farce of [the Roman Empire’s] claims to absolute dominance.  Throughout Scripture, from Exodus to the Gospels and everything between and beyond, God sides with life over death and humility over power.”[ii]

Verse 31 of Exodus chapter 14, the last verse in our text, says, “Israel saw the great work that the Lord did against the Egyptians.  So the people feared the Lord and believed in the Lord…”  Now, we always have to remember that the word “fear” in Hebrew means a deep, reverent awe or profound respect for God.  The people are not scared of God.  They just have profound respect for the God who sides with life over death, and humility over power.  Our work is to make sure we are aligning ourselves with the work of life, not death – the work of humility and not power.  That we are aligning ourselves with the people of God and not the people of oppression and overpowering. 

The story of the liberation of the people of God may, in fact, be quite complicated.  But in other ways, the story is also quite simple.  Being followers of God means being people of light, love, and life.  Despite the horrors of September 11^th, there are also beautiful stories – of those who helped others, those who narrowly missed disaster, those who gathered in prayer and healing.  Those stories are instances of people choosing good, choosing light, choosing life.  That is our invitation every Sunday too.  We are a people invited every day to be agents of good, of light, and of life.  The opportunities for life and humility will vary as widely as each of our lives and vocations are – just as the opportunities will arise for death and power.  Our invitation is to hold on to the good, and to let our lives be a witness to the God whom we hold in deep, reverent awe and profound respect.  Go and be light – God will light the way if you but follow.  Amen.

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[i] “She Barely Survived 9/11 – Then She Had To Identify Those Who Hadn’t,” as told by Kurt Mundorff, Amy Mundorff, and Sarah Mundorff, aired on September 11, 2026, found at https://storycorps.org/stories/she-barely-survived-9-11/?utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook&utm_campaign=sotw&utm_content=Kurt_Amy_Sarah%20Mundorff&fbclid=IwY2xjawUSbKBwZG9mBWV4dG4DYWVtAjEwAGJyaWQRMWxjS2pkckJJc2VRM1NUQ0hzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEekUlXJp38c72Vk3VzQy_SpX0uhV9BW9qY9B_GzGQrlSQ7-M6U6ii6Q7IwFC8_aem_Gczt_0peUQwBS8rr4ekf7w on September 11, 2026.

[ii] Cameron B.R. Howard, “Commentary on Exodus 14:19-31” September 13, 2026, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-24/commentary-on-exodus-1419-31-7 on September 11, 2026.