Exodus 2:23-25; 3:1-15; 4:10-17
September 21, 2025
First Congregational United Church of Christ of Manhattan, KS
Sermon by the Rev. Caela Simmons Wood
Curiosity killed the cat. Or so we’re told.
But my guess is that for every cat curiosity killed, a million other cats didn’t die, but, instead caught a mouse or made a new friend or found some treats tucked away out of sight.
Curiosity can lead us into danger, sure, but it can also lead us into new possibilities. The problem, of course, is that one never knows which way curiosity is pointing us until we take that first step and go exploring. And so, curiosity seems to be inherently brave. To be curious is to take a risk, to be vulnerable, to admit that there are things out there beyond our knowledge that we’d like to explore.
Moses was saved by curiosity. As the story goes, his life should have been snuffed out immediately. The Pharaoh had ordered two Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, to kill all newborn Hebrew boys. But Shiphrah and Puah carried within them the type of brave curiosity that begets great strength. To hold a newborn child in your arms is to dwell deeply, fully in the realm of possibility. Months, years, decades stretched out before the midwives as they looked down at the gift of new life in their arms. Who would this child become? What hardships would come their way? What joys? Might this one become a teacher? This one a father? This one a wise leader?
“Curiosity leads to call.” [1] And so the midwives were called to defy the king’s orders. They bravely refused to kill babies born under their watch, but the babies still weren’t safe. The king ordered the whole realm to kill male babies by drowning them in the Nile River. Many perished.
But Moses was born to a curious woman named Jochebed, who rocked her newborn son in the dark silence of her home, praying for his safety through her tears. When the boy reached three months of age, she could hide him no longer, so she did the only thing she could think of: she carefully sealed a reed basket with tar so it would float. And she put her baby boy in the reeds along the riverbank.
Moses’s sister, Miriam, couldn’t bear the not-knowing of it all. She had to see what would happen to her baby brother. And so, this curious little girl stood watch to see what might happen next.
The king’s daughter came down to the river to bathe and saw the basket there, among the reeds. Another curious woman! She asked her servants to investigate. When they opened the basket, her heart was moved with compassion for the crying infant. “This must be one of the Hebrew babies,” she said. Brave, curious Miriam stepped out of the reeds with a question on her tongue, “Would you like me to go and find one of the Hebrew women to nurse the child?”
And so baby Moses was reunited with his mother. She nursed him for a time and then gave him back to the king’s daughter, who adopted him.
Moses was raised in the king’s palace. The midrashim tell about Moses that we don’t have in our Bible. The rabbis said that he was a curious child - wandering off down the palace hallways and finding his way into nooks and crannies. They said that the king was fond of Moses - they enjoyed playing games together and sometimes this curious child would even reach up and grab the king’s crown, placing it on his own head with a giggle. When some of the king’s magicians saw this, they grew concerned. They felt it was a bad omen - that this child would one day challenge the king. But Jethro, his future father-in-law happened to be nearby and said, “Don’t be silly. He’s just a curious child. He doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing. Here, I’ll show you. Place the boy in front of two objects: a golden chalice and a hot coal from the fire. He’s so silly he’s just as likely to grab the coal as he is the chalice. Watch. You’ll see.”
And so they placed Moses in front of the objects. He started to reach for the sparkly chalice, as most children would. But an angel moved his hand to the hot coal instead. He burned his hand and immediately stuck his fingers into his mouth to soothe himself. His fingers burned his tongue and this is, the rabbis said, how he became “slow of tongue.” [2]
As Moses grew into adulthood, his curiosity never left him. Sometimes it got him into trouble. One day, it altered his life completely. He was walking among the Hebrew people and saw how horribly the Egyptians mistreated them. He heard a scuffle and ducked into an alleyway to see what was happening. There, he found an Egyptian violently beating an enslaved man. Without thinking, Moses sprang into action, defending the man from harm. His strength was, perhaps, greater than he realized, and Moses killed the Egyptian.
After this, he went on the run. He made a home in a foreign land and found a wife, Zipporah. He lived happily alongside her family. Things were different in Midian. A far cry from his privileged youth in the Egyptian palace. But Moses was happy in this new place. There were always new things to see, new customs to understand, new places to explore. And he became a father! Gazing down at his infant son, he must have felt what those midwives felt all those decades ago: a sense of curiosity and wonder. “Who would this child become? What joys lie ahead? What struggles?”
One day, the rabbis say, Moses was out tending his father-in-law’s flock in the countryside. He was never bored at work. The world was enough for him. He examined bugs and watched birds fly overhead. He sang songs and made up stories. He spoke to the sheep and kept an eye on the weather. Moses had been watching a raincloud off in the distance when he suddenly realized one of the younger sheep was wandering off. He left the rest of the flock behind and chased the missing lamb. The faster Moses ran and the more he yelled, the quicker the lamb ran away. By the time Moses caught up with her, he was out of breath and red in the face. Coming around the corner, he saw that she had stopped to drink at a stream. His anger drained as he realized the lamb had just been thirsty. “Oh, sweet lamb,” he said, “I’ve been so foolish. You were only thirsty and by chasing you I’ve made everything worse. You must be so tired now. Here, let me help,” and he scooped up the lamb, placing her over his shoulders and carrying her back to the flock.
The rabbis say that God was watching Moses that day. Seeing his compassion, God said, “That’s the one I want to lead my people out of slavery in Egypt.” [3]
Years passed and Moses continued to watch over Jethro’s flock. The curious little lamb who had wandered off grew up and Moses kept a careful eye on her. If there was something interesting to see, she could be counted on to take the detour to find it. If there were nooks and crannies to explore, you can bet the lamb would squeeze into them. One day, as Moses was moving the flock from one pasture to the next, he realized the curious lamb was missing. He looked around and found her, meandering on a dirt path through some bushes. Grumbling under his breath, he doubled back to bring her in. By now, he knew better than to chase her, so he walked slowly, gravel crunching under his sandals. He pushed the brush out of his way and came into a clearing. The lamb was standing still, staring at a lone bush.
The bush was like nothing Moses had ever seen. He felt himself pulled towards it, as if by an invisible hand. He absentmindedly put his hand on top of the lamb’s head as his mind overflowed with questions. “What kind of fire was this? How was the bush burning from within, but there was no smoke? He walked slowly around the bush. How could a bush burn like this without diminishing at all? Where were the ashes, the heat, the smell of burning wood?”
Perhaps it was Moses’s simple gift of curiosity that changed his life that day. His ability to sit in discomfort in the presence of something that simply didn’t make sense, without shrinking away. He didn’t reflexively shrink back, he just stayed. Perhaps it is because he didn’t pass judgment or come to any conclusions at all that God knew he was the right one to go on a journey requiring great vulnerability, courage, and faith.
Out of nowhere, the bush SPOKE. “Moses! Moses!” thundered the bush. Moses responded in Hebrew, “Hineni! Here I am! It’s me!” English doesn’t quite capture the fullness of hineni. It’s more than just a geographical statement about where a person is located. In the Hebrew Bible, it’s a deep YES rooted in a desire to be of service.
When God calls out to Adam in Genesis, Adam does not respond hineni. Instead, he hides from God because he is afraid. Abraham and Isaiah both respond to the call of God with the word, as does the young Samuel. And hineni isn’t only a word for humans. God also speaks the word in Isaiah, promising to faithfully answer humanity’s cries for help.
Hineni is a word for those who are curious. A word for adventurers. A word for lambs who wander off again and again and midwives who courageously save babies from genocidal tyrants. “Hineni! Here I am!” It’s a word for intrepid explorers who make a way out of no way. A word for little girls who have to know the end of the story and bravely follow their baby brother down the river to see what happens next. A word for princesses who peek into mysterious baskets and find their lives changed. “Hineni. Here I am.”
It’s a word for all who wander. Those who stare up at the sky and consider the clouds. Those who create worlds inside their minds as they daydream. “Hineni. Here I am.”
The answer of the curious. The vulnerable. The courageous. The faithful.
Thanks be to God for those who keep their hearts and minds open. Present. Learning. Growing. Answering the call.
Hineni.
NOTES:
[1] Fretheim, Terence E.. Exodus: Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (p. 54). (Function).
[2] Exodus Rabbah 1.26, as found in The Storytellers’ Bible, p. 114.
[3] Exodus Rabbah 2.2, as found in The Storytellers’ Bible, p. 114.
