Kevin DeYoung / Oct 11, 2015 / Exodus 3:13-3:15
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Sermon Summary / Transcript
We talk about God all the time—yet how often do we stop to talk about the God that we are actually talking about? It’s strange when you think about it: people all over the world—even people who say they don’t believe in God—are talking about God, yet they don’t stop to explain who it is that they are talking about when they purport to talk about God. Many of us operate with just a God of our own conception. As someone once observed,
“God created us in His image, and ever since we’ve been returning the favor by creating Him in our image.”
Even if you talk to someone (or know someone in your family) who is an atheist or an agnostic—who are not sure they believe in God or reject the idea of God—even they must have some idea of the god that they are rejecting. In fact, sometimes when I talk to people who say they don’t believe in God, I want to say, “Well, tell me what god you don’t believe in, because it’s possible I may not believe in that god either.” What do we actually mean when we talk about God?
It would be nice if you could go find a statue or temple of God, or if he had a name—maybe Zeus, or Ra, or Ba’al, or Krishna, or Larry. Maybe he’s not a “he” at all. Maybe it’s a goddess like Aphrodite, but it would be nice if he or she had a name. Names are important.
Have you ever tried to describe someone you are thinking of, but can’t remember their name? Maybe you’ve even had this experience at this church as lots of new people have come over the years. You have no idea who you’re talking about because you can’t remember their name. Sometimes my wife and I will be at home, and I’ll say, “Okay, I was talking to someone. She was this tall, with hair and two eyes. Do you know who I’m talking about?”
Or kids. It doesn’t matter how many you have. If you have two kids and you want to call on one, you’ll name the other first. If you have six, you’ll go through six names before you get to the one you want. If you have ten, you’ll go through ten. You just can’t get their names out. We do this all the time! “Would you come here, Ian…Jacob…Elizabeth…YOU, the one I’m mad at. Come here!”
Have you ever met someone you were supposed to relay an important message to, but you can’t remember who it was from? “Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I have something really important to tell you that somebody just told me. [Pause] Who was that who just told me to tell you something really earth-shattering and life-changing?” If you don’t know a name, how much do you know about the person?
Who is God? What is His name? I daresay there are no more important questions for you to consider this afternoon. They’re more important than football, than homework, or what you’re going to eat. Who is God? In the world around you, you will not find anyone pressuring you to answer that question. That is not the air that our culture breathes. They will force you to deal you in trivialities, not in transcendence.
While I was working on this sermon on Friday afternoon, I pulled up my phone and checked Twitter, that great repository of wisdom and knowledge. I didn’t want to cherry pick this, so I just looked at what some major media outlets were saying on Friday afternoon. Would anything here drive me to the great questions of our day—the great things of eternity—to “Who is God? What is His name?”?
Here’s what I found. The Washington Post headline: “Nicki Minaj and the Five Reasons Celebrities Shut Down Interviews.” I thought about googling “Nicki Minaj” and finding out who she…but I figured that wasn’t worth it. Politico: “Chairman Ryan Appreciates the Support He’s Getting from His Colleagues, but He’s Still Not Running for Speaker.” No one is, it seems. The New York Times would have something really, really important, right? “A Four-Cheese Macaroni and Cheese Recipe, Because it’s Friday and You’ve Earned It.” Well that’s good.
Then CNN: “Why Do Geniuses Wear the Same Clothes?” Wow, that is a good question. As I looked at it, it seemed to be saying not “Why do All the Geniuses Wear the Same Clothes as Each Other?” but “Why Do Real Geniuses Continue to Wear the Same Clothes Day After Day?” Who knew? Your teenage son is a genius! Just tell them that! “Mom and Dad, it’s right here on CNN!” Even when the news pretends to give us the really important things, it’s not likely to lead you to ask the most important questions. You can get through your whole week and never think of them.
Who is God? What is His name? Those are the very questions that Moses wanted answered. Follow along as I read Exodus 3:13-15—three of the most monumental, foundational, and awe-inspiring verses in all of the Bible.
13 Then Moses said to God, “If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” 14 God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” And he said, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” 15 God also said to Moses, “Say this to the people of Israel, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever, and thus I am to be remembered throughout all generations.”
Remember what prompts Moses’ question: what happened in the story up to this point. Back in Genesis, there was a famine in the whole region. The people of Israel made their way down to Egypt—the only land smart enough to set aside grain during the years of plenty, because Joseph, sold by his brothers into slavery, had gone there, and wound up in charge of the whole country. God gave him a dream that saved the Egyptians and all the people that came to them. So, God’s people are in Egypt.
Then Joseph died, and another Pharaoh came to power who did not remember him. He looked out and saw the Israelites, great in number, and he was scared. So he subjected them to oppressive bondage. He wanted to kill them with hard labor, but that didn’t work. They just kept multiplying. So he tried to kill them by telling the midwives to kill the babies. And when that didn’t work, he gives a royal decree commanding everyone in Egypt to take the baby boys and throw them into the Nile.
One of those baby boys who was supposed to die was Moses—but his parents had faith and feared God. Moses’ mother made a little basket and put him there in the Nile. He floated down the river and ended up (wouldn’t you know it) right on the doorstep of Pharaoh’s daughter. For forty years, she raised Moses as a kind of prince in the household of Egypt’s king.
At forty years old, he looked out and saw the oppression of his people. He tried to break up a dispute between a Hebrew and his taskmaster—and he struck the Egyptian, killing him. Moses thought, “Not only am I going to set this man free, but I’m going to set all the people free. They’ll come and rally behind me, and we’ll be set free from Egypt.”
But, of course, it doesn’t happen. The Egyptians find out about it and look for Moses, so he flees. He winds up far off in the desert in Midian, where he finds a wife and raises a family. He lives there with his father-in-law for another forty years. And after those forty years, he’s on the far side of a mountain in Midian—where one day, he sees a bush on fire that’s not consumed. And a voice speaks to him and says, “Go. Go to Egypt. You will set my people free.” Moses says, “What? Me? Who am I?” And God says, “I’m not interested in ‘Who are you?’ I want you to know who I am, because I’ll be with you.”
Which leads to verse 13:
13 Then Moses said to God, “If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?”
You can almost see Moses’ wheels turning. It’s kind of hypothetical: “Okay, Lord. Whoever You are in the bush, just suppose for a minute that I do this. I’m not saying that I’m going to. I’m not saying that. But suppose I do: hypothetically, if I were to do something like this and go down to Egypt—suppose, hypothetically, they then say, ‘Well, who sent you?’ Umm…what should I say?”
There are a number of reasons why Moses would ask this question. He himself may not be sure: “Look, I can’t see you. I can’t touch you. You’re a voice. Who am I talking to?” The Israelites would surely want to know also, especially if they remembered anything about Moses. Maybe some of them had heard of a story about this character named Moses: “Remember this guy, Moses? He was put in a basket. He was one of us, but he was raised in Pharaoh’s household.” And then they remember: “What was it that happened forty years ago? Do you remember that story? He killed the Egyptian, and then he ran away. Whatever happened to that guy?” Then he comes back and they say again, “Who made you the boss of us?” Moses is saying, “Look, I tried this one time before and I failed. I’m going to need a name. I’m going to need some credentials with me.”
You also have to remember there were a lot of gods, so called, in this world. You always have to keep in mind when reading the Old Testament that the world of the Old Testament is polytheistic, pantheistic, and syncretistic: polytheistic, meaning there are a multitude of gods and goddesses; pantheistic, meaning that nature and the divine and God are one, so that nature has divine properties and that God is Himself is this world—just one, not two—and syncretistic, meaning that most people were very happy to pick and choose from various religions and experiences. They weren’t concerned about, say, the law of non-contradiction, or whether this could logically be true at the same time. They just saw, “Your god works, so I’ll take that god. Your goddess helps people get pregnant, so I’ll take on some of that.” That’s syncretism.
Moses may be wondering, “Which god am I talking to? The people of Israel are going to want to know.” He needs a little help, he figures. “Look God, whoever You are: I can’t just go back to Egypt and say, ‘Well get this, guys: I was in Midian and I was talking to a bush.’ That sounds like the beginning of a joke. God, I’m going to need a name.” God gives a threefold reply. You see it in verses 14 and 15:
14 God said to Moses…15 And he said…God also said to Moses…
He says three things: He gives an answer for Moses, an answer for Israel, and a final summary answer.
God’s Answer to Moses
The beginning of verse 14:
“I am who I am.”
I hope you don’t mind if I give you just a little bit of Hebrew this morning. I’m sure you don’t mind at all. This phrase is notoriously difficult to translate. In Hebrew, it is “ehyeh aser ehyeh”. “Aser” in the middle is a particle connecting the two verbs, and it can be translated, ‘who,’ ‘that,’ or ‘because,’ so there’s some ambiguity there. The verb itself, ‘ehyeh,’ is from the verb ‘hayah,’ which means “to be”. It’s in the imperfect tense, which (in Hebrew) means it has all sorts of ambiguity and flexibility. You could translate it as “I am,” “I was,” or “I will be”. Do your math: you’ve got three things here and three things there, so there’s nine different ways that you could realistically translate this. “I am who I am.” “I will be who I will be.” “I was who I was.” “I was who I will be.” ‘I am who I was.” And so forth. You can sort them out. Some have also argued that it could be translated, “I caused to be.’
The ESV, and most English translations, give the familiar rendering “I am who I am.” I don’t see a good reason to deviate from this translation. It fits in with the context and with the divine name ‘YHWH’—which we’ll see in a few moments. It’s also the way that the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures), which would have been the Bible that Jesus and the Apostles were familiar with, renders this: “ego eimi”, or “I am.”
What’s the significance of this response: “I am who I am”? Remember, first of all, that it is a response to Moses’ question. He already asked, in verse 11, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh…?” God said in verse 12 that “I will be with you…”—“ehyeh immak”. It’s the same verb: verse 12 says “I will be”, and verse 14 says “I am.” He’s giving the same response. This is what God wants to communicate first of all: “Moses, I know you’re worried. I know you’re fearful. I know you’ve failed before. You want to know who is sending you? I’m telling you who is sending you. I am who I am. The God who will be with you is the God who is sending you. You need My presence more than you need a name. You need assurance more than you need an answer from Me. I am with you.”
I used to think that that was kind of a lame prayer. I’d hear people pray, “Oh Lord, would You just be with them? They’re having a hard time. Would you just be with them?” And I thought, “Really? That’s all you can say? ‘Just be with them’?” I mean, that doesn’t sound much better than when people say, “Oh, our thoughts and prayers are with you.” Now you have people who don’t even want to do the prayer part, because that sounds too religious, so they say, “Our thoughts are with you” or “Let’s all send out our thoughts.” Because that will do a lot. Just [robotic beeping noise]. “I could tell you were thinking about me.”
“Be with them.” There is a way to say that very carelessly and thoughtlessly—to just throw it out. But if you have this understanding, there are few better things you can pray than that. “Immanuel: God with us.” There is nothing more important that you can pray for each other: “God, they’re so scared and hurt. They’re really struggling right now. They’re wandering from You. They’re sinning. They’re doing all sorts of things. Would You draw near to them? Would You show Yourself to be a God who is with them?”
Francis Schaeffer wrote a famous book in the 1960’s: The God Who is There. That’s what God says. “I am who I am” means: “I am the God who sees and hears, who knows and remembers, who cares and loves. I am the God who has a plan.” This God is more reliable than your car, more loyal than your dog, and knows more than your phone. That’s this God. He does not leave you or forsake you. He does not let you down.
If you belong to Christ, here’s the good news: the “I am” is for you. That’s what God wants to communicate: “You’re going to Egypt. You’re not sure if this is going to work. I’m telling you all you need to know: My name. ‘I am who I am.’ I’ll be with you.”
It’s not just a relational statement. There is a philosophical, theological component too. In saying, “I am who I am,” God is presenting Himself as the self-existent, transcendent, independent God of the universe. Have you ever stopped to think that in the very first verse of the Bible, we don’t only meet God as a Creator, but in His ‘aseity’? It’s a Latin word, meaning “in himself”—that God exists in Himself. He does not need to go outside of Himself to find purpose or life. There was a time when matter was not, but there never was a time when God was not. You see this in the very first verse of the Bible: “beresit bara elohim…”
1 In the beginning, God created…
He created in the beginning. Even before the creation, there was God—not just a nothingness, an explosion, or a random series of events. “1 In the beginning, God…” He is before all things, and upon Him all things depend. He is absolutely independent from anyone or anything. Psalm 90:
1 Lord, you have been our dwelling place
in all generations.
2 Before the mountains were brought forth,
or ever you had formed the earth and the world,
from everlasting to everlasting you are God.
God, speaking from the burning bush, says to Moses, “You want to know who I am? All you need to know is ‘I am who I am.’”
God’s Answer for Israel
Look at the first half of verse 15:
15 Say to the people of Israel, ‘I am has sent me to you.’
It’s obviously very similar to the first part of God’s response. Once again, this answer emphasizes the majesty and the power of God. “Look, Moses, if the people want to know who has sent you, here’s what you tell them: ‘I am.’” You have to wonder what Moses was thinking. Did he say, “What?” Or did he get it? Did he understand that in that simple phrase God was communicating all that he needed to know to go, to show, and to set the people free? In saying “I am has sent me to you,” God was saying, “I am not one of the Egyptian gods. I am not one of the Canaanite gods. I am not a tribal deity. I am not a god to be controlled or manipulated. I am not a god to be treated lightly or trifled with. I am not unconcerned. I am not inconsiderate or unmoved by your suffering. I am not weak or helpless. I am not small. I am not going to fail. I am not going to let you down. I am not going to lose. I am.” That’s what God was saying.
Are we even talking about the same God? When you pray, is this the God to whom you’re praying? We think we’ve got to tug on his sleeve: “God, are You listening to me? You’re so busy, but will You just listen for a second?” We think He’s up there and having a bad day trying to run a universe. Do you think He’s just a weak, petty little God? Or do you realize that you’re praying to the “I am”?
Is this the God you’re talking about when you do your evangelism? I think people are so often disinterested in the gospel—yes, because they don’t understand sin; yes, because they don’t understand their need for a Savior—but, first of all, because they do not understand God. “God is a boring, self-help sort of deity. Don’t tell me about your God. Whatever.” They don’t have an idea. Some of us may not have an idea. We have this God who rests so inconsequentially upon the church.
If you’re seeking this morning—if you’re here considering the claims of Christ—what sort of God do you have in your head and heart? Is it this God, the “I am”? Are we even talking about the same god? Does your theology, your worldview, your way of making sense of reality start with a transcendent God who must be taken on His own terms? If you start with that, you may still not be a Christian, but you are at least on your way to thinking like one. If you do not have that God—if you do not relate to a God who is the “I am”—it doesn’t matter how you were raised, how often you go to church, or what you profess. You do not know the true and living God of the Bible.
“Who should I say has sent me?” God says, “I am who I am.” We imagine God to be saying, “I am whoever you want Me to be.” That’s the God of our day and age—not a God who is, but a God who morphs, changes, and transforms into whatever you think Him to be. Do you need Him to be angry with your enemies? You get that. Do you need Him to give you some good stuff? All right. Do you need Him to be affirming—or whatever you want Him to do? All right, we’ll get that God. God is whatever you imagine Him to be. Do you want Him big or small? Short or tall? Do you want a He, Him, Her, or It? What do you want? Do you want ‘They’? You want multiple? That’s your god—but it’s not this God. “I am who I am.”
Some of us, if we’re honest, wish that He had answered Moses differently. “Who should I say sent me to you?” “My name is ‘You are.’” “God, man, why so much about you all the time? ‘I am.’” We want God to say, “You are,” as in, “You are special. You are great. You are awesome.” We want a God that will turn things around and say, “Moses, Moses, enough about Me. Let’s talk about you, Moses.” Isn’t it so striking? Moses wants to talk about “How can I go to Egypt? Who am I?” God doesn’t answer the question like: “Who are you, Moses? Moses, you’re incredible! You’re so good. You’ve always been so great, had this heart for justice—and you’ve been trained. You know, you’re really good. And you’ve got a nice robe and staff, and you saved the people—and the ark and the basket in the Nile. You’re really special.” No, He says, “Okay, I love you. I’ve got a plan for you. But let’s talk about Me. I’m with you. I am. That’s Me. I exist in Myself, by Myself, and of Myself.” To call God, “I am,” means more than syllables and letters. It means the knowledge of His glory and majesty. Is that the God we’re talking about when we talk about God?
God’s Summary Answer
Look at verse 15:
God also said to Moses…
Notice the direct parallel to the second half of verse 14:
Say this to the people of Israel, “I am has sent me to you.”
Say this to the people of Israel, “The Lord, the God of your fathers, has sent me to you.
You see those things standing in parallel? “I am,” is the same as the “The Lord, the God of your fathers.”
“I am” is that verb ‘ehyeh’. It appears very rarely (perhaps only here) as the name of God. But ‘YHWH’, ‘the Lord’, appears nearly seven thousand times in the Old Testament. ‘YHWH’—or, depending on how you transliterate the Hebrew consonants, ‘JHVH’—is called the ‘tetragrammaton’. That’s just a fancy way of saying it’s got four letters—four consonants. It’s the divine name. Scholars have often gone back and forth about “How should we translate this? How should we pronounce this?” Most of you probably see it in the Bible you’re reading (like the ESV): when it has ‘YHWH’, the divine name, you’ll see ‘Lord’ in small capital letters. Now you might say, “Well, why doesn’t it just say ‘YHWH’?” And there are some translations that do say ‘YHWH’. The reason most of them don’t is that there’s a long history of translating the divine name as “Lord”. It goes back to what I said earlier: the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures—the Bible that the early church would have had—translates the name most often as ‘kurios’, which is Greek for ‘Lord’. So, in keeping with that, most English translations have used the word ‘Lord’. And it helps us to see the connection in the New Testament when Jesus is called ‘Lord’.
Centuries later—long after this—some of the Jews became superstitious and would not say the divine name. So, when they read their scrolls and came to ‘YHWH’, they would say ‘adonai,’ which is the Hebrew word for ‘Lord’. Now, just to make things even more confusing in your mind, there were no vowels in Hebrew (originally). In Greek (originally), there were no spaces between the words, either. So, in the Hebrew, there were no vowels. Later, vowel points were added—little markings underneath or on top of the word to explain the vowels. That’s one of the reasons why people have struggled to know how we should pronounce ‘YHWH’, or ‘JHVH’. Is it ‘Yahweh’? How do we pronounce it?
Well, some of these scribes who put the vowel points in put in the sounds from ‘adonai’—the vowel sounds—and put those in between the consonants of ‘YHWH’. They came up with ‘Yahweh’—or, if you use the other transliteration, ‘Jehovah’. That’s where we get the names Jehovah, Yahweh, Kurios, Lord, and Adonai. They’re all trying to make sense of this divine name.
But here’s the connection I want to make sure you understand this morning: the definite link between “I am” and ‘YHWH’. ‘YHWH’ comes from the Hebrew verbal root ‘hayah,’ meaning, “to be”. Most Hebrew verbs have three letters, and then you add something to the beginning or the end, along with different verbal forms or verbal stems. This is the same verb that I mentioned earlier: “ehyeh aser ehyeh.” “I am who I am.” That ‘ehyeh’ comes from ‘hayah.’ So does ‘YHWH,’ meaning, “to be”. “I am.”
So, if you’re going to remember the two Hebrew verbs (so far) from Exodus, you have ‘yada’, which means, “to know”—like “yada-yada-yada.” “I know, I know, I know.” And then you have, ‘hayah’, which I think of as “Hi-ya!” You know: you’re alive. You exist. You do karate chops. Now you remember it. ‘Hayah,’ means “to be”. “I am.” ‘Hayah’. “My name is YHWH, which comes from the same root. I’m the God who is, who was, and who is to come.”
“The Lord”—‘YHWH’—is not a label. It’s a theology. God was known by various names in Genesis. He was called “El Elyon” (God Most High), “Hahat Yeetsak” (Fear of Isaac), “El Shaddai” (God Almighty), “El Roi” (The God who sees me), and “El Bethel” (The God of Bethel). The name of YHWH was known in Genesis. Abraham, Noah, Isaac, Jacob, and Laban all called upon the name of the Lord—of YHWH, or Jehovah.
But it seems as if the name had been forgotten. You may not have noticed, but there is no mention of the divine name in Exodus 1 and 2. Remember, the people of God had been slaves in Egypt for 400 years. Moses had been in Midian with his pagan father-in-law for 40 years. To be sure, you have people who fear God, and people even calling out in their suffering to God, but no one is calling upon the covenantal, divine name of YHWH.
“It will not be far from the truth if we suppose that the faith, both of Moses and the Israelites, had grown somewhat faint and rusty, like a church that still has the embers of the truth, but they have forgotten their first love.”
They’ve grown dull. The people of Israel no longer remember the God of their fathers. So He says, “Tell them I am. Tell them My name, because this is who I am.” Do not forget: this is what it means for God to be God. “I am your God. I have been your God. I will be your God. I am the only God: the self-existent, transcendent, independent, great ‘I am’, YHWH.”
The Final Goal
I started this sermon by asking the questions: “Who is God? What is His name?” Knowing the Lord is the point of the plagues that are soon to follow this. Yes, God is moved by the suffering of His people to have compassion and set them free, but there’s more going on than that. If the story of Exodus was only about God wanting His people to be free from suffering, we could almost skip the next ten chapters. We could say, “Alright. Moses is going back. He’s going to say, ‘Let’s go.’ And then they go. Let’s skip over to chapter 15, where we get the song of victory: ‘Yay, we made it out of Egypt.’”
But that’s hardly all that God is up to. He has a bigger goal in mind with the Exodus: to be known. The point of Exodus is that the God of Israel and the universe is a God who makes Himself known. You could argue that the remaining thirty-seven chapters in this book are all to answer the question that Moses asks: “Who are you? What sort of God is this who speaks out of the bush and yet it is not consumed? What is your Name?”
You could also argue that the whole Bible is written to answer that question. Who is this God who calls Himself “I am”? He’s a God who wants to be known. Think about all the different cultural pressures squeezing the church: there are issues with marriage, sexuality, religious freedom, and religious liberty. All of that is really important, but do you understand the spiritual battle above and underneath all of that? It’s that we have a God, whether anyone in the whole world likes it or not, who wants to and will be known. He is not a God who will hide or who will merely be private. He is a God who will have His glory shown and known in all the earth, until one day it covers the earth as the waters cover the seas. That’s the God we serve. He’s not going into hiding.
Who is God? That’s the point of Exodus; it’s the point of the Bible: to know, see, and hear the God who hears, sees, and knows us. What is He like? What is His name? You have nothing more important to figure out than that.
Let me finish with a true story. Once there was a man who got into all sorts of fights with the religious leaders of his day. He was a Jewish man, like these Hebrews, and the leaders of the Jews in those days absolutely could not stand Him. They thought He was full of Himself and a troublemaker. They didn’t like how He kept poking them in the eye and drew attention to Himself instead of drawing attention to them. One day things got really heated with this man. These leaders kept saying how special they were because they were descendants of Abraham. And so this man said, “Funny you should say that, because you don’t remind Me anything of Abraham.” Well this made them mad. They said, “We have Abraham as our father.” They’d say things like that. And He’d say things like, “No, you have the devil as your father,” and things would just tend to escalate.
Things went from bad to worse. Eventually, the leaders told this man, “Look, we know what’s going on. You’re possessed by the devil. You have a demon, because You think You’re greater than Abraham.” And this man said, “I’m not bragging. I’m just saying that Abraham was thrilled to know Me.” Well this just sent their heads spinning and exploding, and they said, “Wait a minute, Abraham was thrilled to see You? Look at You. You’re not fifty years old. How did Abraham know You?”
This is when things got real tense. Do you know what the man said next? He said, “Before Abraham was, I am.” Do you know what those people did when He said that? They picked up stones to kill Him, because they understood clear as day what many people in our day refuse to see: that Jesus of Nazareth was equating Himself with the God of the universe. To use the very words: “ego emei,” spoken in Aramaic. It’s written down in John 8 in Greek. “Ego emei” is the same words (from their Bible) that God spoke out of the bush to Moses. “Here’s what you should say to My people when they wonder who I am. You tell them, ‘I am.’” “Ego emei.” They knew that this man was saying, “If you want to know God, get to know Me.” Who is God? He’s the “I am”—YHWH—Jehovah—the Lord—the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And you can also call him Jesus, for that is His name.
Let’s pray. Father in Heaven, our simple prayer and earnest plea is that You would make Yourself known. There are likely people here who do not know You. There are people on our hearts who do not know You. They think they know You, but they don’t know the “I am”. They do not know Jesus. Make Yourself known in our church, our families, and our land, O God. In Jesus’ name. Amen.