Rev. John Vaughn: So the title of our sermon today is “We Can Do Hard Things”. This title is actually taken from a phrase that my wife, Kim, would often tell our boys growing up, when they had to come up against a very difficult task, or something they did not want to do. She would say, “We can do hard things”. So if you remember nothing else from what Rabbi Lydia and I share today, remember: we can do hard things.

Rabbi Lydia Medwin: Unfortunately, today we live in a world that is filled with many hard things. Whether we look to issues related to the environment or politics, the cost of living or the cost of health care, the unhoused or the unhopeful, AI or racial IOUs, there are so many things that are hard. Our issues grow more complex by the day, and the discourse more corrosive, and our patience so very short. It would be understandable to feel overwhelmed. But we are not helpless. We are not helpless. We are God's children with the creative powers that God imbued in us, and the free will which God treasures above all else. We can choose to do hard things.

Rev. John Vaughn: Early in my career, a week before I started as the Executive Director of a faith based organizing effort in East Harlem, the Board of Directors invited me in for a conversation. When I arrived, they informed me that my predecessor, the outgoing executive director, had misappropriated \$40,000 of the organization's budget on \$3,000 worth of pens. That's right, pens. Writing implements. This was a lot of money for a scrappy, faith-based organization with three staff. They offered me the opportunity to back out, back out of the commitment. So I'm a leader in my 20s. I'm full of energy and optimism and probably don't really fully know better. But, after having prayed about it and slept on it, I agreed to accept the position. Within a few months, I discovered that my predecessor had also secured a \$15,000 grant from a local funder to lead a youth program. The challenge was we were not doing any youth program at the time, and did not have any plans to do so in the future. The Chair of the Board and I went to meet with our Program Officer with the funder to let her know this. And after the conversation, we ended up giving the funds back. The good news is that one year later, we managed to get the organization onto solid financial footing, and then the donor to whom we returned the grant, two years later became one of our largest funders. Over the year, as all of this was unfolding, I would be in my apartment at 118th Street and First Avenue in East Harlem, thinking, “What have I gotten myself into?” But the refrain that kept coming into my mind was a hymn that's very familiar to us in Black churches, and really became my personal theme for the season: “I can't believe you brought me this far to leave me.” We can do hard things.

Rabbi Lydia Medwin: In my career, I've watched dozens and dozens of people face tragedy and do hard things. One thing that is sticking out to me today is a funeral I recently officiated, where the daughter and her parents had been estranged for most of her adult life. Now, in their very senior years, she got notice that her parents were falling behind in their mortgage. Upon further investigation, she found that their finances were a complete mess, and they were at risk of becoming homeless. After almost 30 years of painful silence, this daughter stepped in, sorted out their finances and their health care, and so much more. Her father died about a year later, and after all of those decades holding the pain of raising her children with no grandparents, having never gotten an apology or an explanation, this daughter stood up to prepare for her father's funeral with unmerited, and yet, the utmost deepest respect. She looked hard, and dug up memories of kindness from her childhood, and spoke words of truth, and also of deep love. at his funeral. She told me how hard it was, and I saw her struggle. And in the end, she felt truly at peace about having honored her father's memory in the best ways she knew how. She really did a hard thing, and she did it so well.

When we want to know how to do hard things, whether making tough choices as young professionals, or honoring people that were hard to love, we turn to our ancestors for inspiration. When Rev. John and I were thinking about who could be our role model, Moses became the obvious choice. Moses did really hard things. A man with a speech impediment destined to lead our people with his words; a new husband and father asked to leave his life behind, to return to Egypt to free his people; a leader who would spend his whole life leading, but never set foot in the Promised Land; how did he do such hard things?

The Jewish tradition offers many reasons that Moses was qualified for this job: Moses saw a taskmaster beating a Hebrew slave, and stopped him. He saw two Hebrews arguing amongst themselves, and stopped them. He saw shepherds harassing Yitro's daughters at the well, and stopped them, too. Taken together, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks comments, “Moses intervenes to protect people against attack, whether the victims or the perpetrators belong to his people or not... Moses is a man of justice, prepared to act and take risks for its sake.”

There is the story of when Moses refused to move his flock until even the tiniest of lambs who had wandered off had been found and carried home. In the Midrash, God sees this act and replies, “You have been found trustworthy with regards to sheep; and now I entrust my flock to you, too.” And there's the story of this man Moses, who noticed a bush that was burning, and yet not being consumed; who knew holiness when he saw it and took off his shoes in response. There's the story of being asked by God, four different times, to return to Egypt and lead his people to freedom. And Moses, humble enough to confess his fears of inadequacy, stepped into the fray nonetheless. We learn that Moses had these qualities: a man of justice and deep caring, with spiritual awareness, humility and courage, qualities I believe we can all develop throughout our lives, so that we, too, can do hard things.

Rev. John Vaughn: For a lot of my life, I never really interrogated “why Moses”. But what dawned on me in our sermon preparation process is that Moses is uniquely equipped for this work. He is a former insider and an outsider at the same time. Few people will get the type of access that he will have to deliver God's message directly to Pharaoh. He was raised in the palace and grew up with many of the main Egyptian players. He also had some credibility among the Hebrews, because not only was he of that lineage, but he was also willing, also, to protect a Hebrew who was being abused. And he even went to such lengths as killing someone to do it. God is strategic in choosing Moses. One of the reasons that God chooses Moses is precisely because he is an insider and an outsider.

I believe that God is strategic with each one of us. There is a reason why you are called to be in a certain place at a certain time. It may be a combination of your own life experiences and gifts. It also may be because of your own flaws, and your own humanness, that you are precisely the right person for this moment where you are. The Bible is filled with deeply flawed leaders who did some questionable things; yet, despite that, were called to lead in a particular time, in a particular place, where those flaws made them better leaders for that moment. God commits to be with us when we do hard things. God does not send Moses out on his own. This is a partnership. It's a partnership. God needs Moses for this particular task, and Moses needs God. God commits to be with us when we have to do hard things.

When Moses says to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”

God responds, “I will be with you. Go assemble the leaders of Israel and say to them, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, appeared to me, and said, “I have watched over you, and have seen what has been done to you in Egypt.”’ The elders of Israel will listen to you.”

I'm reminded of the role that faith has played in social movements in my own lifetime. Faith was an important element amidst the Civil Rights movement. As people were being lynched, and lives were being lost in the struggle, there was a deep sense that God was present in the grief and joy, the pain and the struggle, a deep sense that God makes a way out of no way. Faith was an important element to the anti-Apartheid movement in South Africa. Central to Bishop Tutu's rise in prominence was that he spoke and acted from a place of deep faith and liberatory power of God. In both instances, there was an understanding that God was a partner in the struggle. We need God, and God needed us.

Take a moment, and think about a hard thing in your own individual Journey. Think about a hard thing in our collective journey, maybe within your own congregation. Take a moment to think about a hard thing nationally or globally. God is calling each one of us, with our unique talents, and our own unique gifts, along with our flaws and our shortcomings, to be partners with God, to do our part. And I want to emphasize our part, not having to do it all. God partners with us to do our part, to do hard things.

Rabbi Lydia Medwin: When Moses wonders how he'll get through this hard thing that God has asked him to do, one of God's responses is that Aaron, Moses's brother, will be by his side. Not only will God's partnership be required, as you've so beautifully said, but so too, Moses will need human partners with whom to do this work. Moses ends up with lots of partners in the work, actually. While Moses does the walking, Aaron does the talking. His sister Miriam never leaves his side his whole life, helping him to lead the people to wells of water in the desert. While Moses lifts his staff to part the seas, they don't actually open until Nachshon steps foot in the water first. Aaron and Hur hold Moses's arms up when that is what is required to win the battles against the Amalekites. Joshua and Caleb finish the job that Moses started, when they walked into the Promised Land, after Moses's death. Moses, as great a leader as he was, was never in fact, alone. Moses, this leader of justice and compassion, humility and courage, needed others to tackle his most challenging moments.

And so, too, with us today. In fact, what could we possibly say that we've ever accomplished truly alone? Every great leader of movements knows they need partners to succeed. And so, consider now who are the holy and sacred people who've been your supporters, who've been your allies and your agitators for the good, as you do hard things? On whose shoulders are you standing today? As we partner with God in these moments, so too let us consider with whom we want to walk into battle, as we face hard things.

During this year of the 250th birthday of the United States, I've been thinking a lot about how we got here. For all of our incredible achievements, and also all of our immense failures, there was only ever one kind of person who shaped this country. In the words of President Theodore Roosevelt, “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause.”

Even if we fail, we must get into the arena, and try to do these hard things. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever made a difference. With God by our sides, with our brothers and sisters, by our sides, we can find the courage to do hard things.

Rev. John Vaughn: So, Rabbi Lydia, over the last three months I have been streaming the show The Mandalorian on Disney+. This is one of the many spin-offs from Star Wars, or the Star Wars saga. In this show, The Mandalorian, whose name is Din Djarin, is a bounty hunter who comes from a race of people called the Mandalorians. They wear metal armor and are skilled fighters. They have a deep commitment to the tenets of what it means to be a Mandalorian, with courage, fearlessness, and commitment. Whenever they are getting ready to face something very difficult, or to affirm something they have come through that has been very difficult, they often turn to someone and share the phrase, “This is the way.” Doing hard things is among our greatest challenges and opportunities in life. “This is the way.” My prayer is that we will continue to face the hard things in our lives and rise to the occasion, as they get even more difficult, and our seemingly insurmountable. The good news is that we don't have to do it alone. God is with us, and God's people are with us. “This is the way.” Amen.

Rabbi Lydia Medwin: Amen.