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But Who Am I?
“But Moses said to God, ‘Who am I that I should go to
Pharaoh, and that I should bring the children of Israel
out of Egypt?’” —Exodus 3: 11
God, did I hear you right? Did you tell me
(But who am I?) to lead these people out
Of Egypt? I am not the kind to be
Headstrong; in fact, I’m very slow of tongue—but
I know myself quite well; I am the wrong sort
Of person for this job. Humans are not
My forte. All my life’s experience
Is with these sheep. With men, I don’t know what
To say. I’m sure I never could convince
This mob to go. I lack the eloquence.
I am an introvert. Nobody listens
To my ideas. I don’t want to be
A leader-type who gives commands. I am
Not one who understands psychology.
If I tried this, they’d all be asking me
How ever did I come up with this scam,
And anyway, who do I think I am?
And I am very certain they will sense
My fear, and scoff, and surely will not mince
Their insults when I tell them that I AM
Has sent me. They’ll think, “Blasphemy!” and either
They’ll kill me, or at best they’ll say they’d rather
Not go. I’m not your man. Please send another.
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Note: In the book of Exodus, God introduces Himself as “I AM WHO I AM”
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Nunc Dimittis
“And Israel said to Joseph, ‘Now let me die, since I have
seen your face, because you are still alive.’”
—Genesis 46: 30
“’Lord, now You are letting Your servant depart in peace,
according to Your word; for my eyes have seen your
salvation….’” —Luke 2: 29-30
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I. Israel (Jacob)
Now let me pass away in perfect peace—
The son I’ve loved and lost is still alive!
I’ve thought my sorrowing would never cease;
But in my age, once more I can embrace
You, and it is enough; I will not grieve
Again. I’ll gladly go now to my grave,
Grateful to God for unexpected grace.
Now let me die, since I have seen your face.
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II. Simeon
Lord, all these years, I’ve prayed you to relieve
My restlessness to see this One whom I’ve
Been waiting for. I am content to leave
The earth, now that Your mystery’s been unsealed.
At last, I can beseech You to receive
My aged soul in heaven, where none grieve,
And all will see the One You have revealed.
I’ve held your Son; my life is now fulfilled.
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all above poems from Foundations of the Cross and Other Bible Stories
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Cynthia Erlandson is a poet and fitness professional living in Michigan. Her second collection of poems, Notes on Time, has recently been published by AuthorHouse, as was her first (2005) collection, These Holy Mysteries. Her poems have also appeared in First Things, Modern Age, The North American Anglican, The Orchards Poetry Review, The Book of Common Praise hymnal, and elsewhere. Her Facebook page is “Mysteries and Metaphors.”
Cynthia, these poems enhance some of the great Bible stories: 1.) God selecting Moses to lead despite his trepidation and introverted nature. 2.) Israel rewarded at the end of life by seeing his son once again. 3.) Simeon having the supreme honor of holding the savior. Each one is a small sermon unto itself and a balm to the soul.
Thank you very much, Roy. In “Foundations of the Cross”, I have been ultimately aiming to shed some light on ways in which the Old Testament books foreshadow the life of Christ, making the Bible one unified and meaningful literary masterpiece, by gradually removing the veil of “the mystery which has been hidden from ages . . . but has now been revealed . . .” (Colossians 1: 26) So that, in “Nunc Dimittis”, what Israel/Jacob says to Joseph upon seeing his son, and what Simeon prays to God upon seeing God’s Son, might be seen as echoing each other in a way to (however dimly) show the Old Testament characters prophesying Christ. The poem about Moses doesn’t show this as clearly; but I believe he is thought of as a type of Christ, perhaps because he has been given a very difficult job and is asking something like, “Please let this cup pass from me.”
The Moses poem is the very picture of an inarticulate and inelegant speaker when he has to say SOMETHING. He can hardly contain his desire to get out of it. Considering his future delivery of the Ten Commandments, it’s amusing that he denies any understanding of psychology. How many human beings look at those Ten Demands and find them utterly lacking in psychological savoir faire! And indeed, many consider Moses as God’s Lawgiver the ultimate scam.
The parallel between Jacob and Simeon is a perceptive one. At first it seems close to exact, with the difference being that Jacob dies satisfied with seeing his own long-lost son, while Simeon dies satisfied with the fulfillment of God’s promise. The promise was that Simeon would see the Messias, or as he says in the Nunc Dimittis, “thy salvation which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples.” He doesn’t say explicitly that this salvation is “God’s Son.” You, Cynthia, have put that interpretation into his words. But then, in the course of salvation history, over and over again, God’s promise is fulfilled by a son. Not always as expected, for Jesus whom Simeon sees is a son of Jacob, but not a descendant of Joseph. The ultimate gift comes through
Judah, another son of Jacob–not the oldest or most beloved one, although Jacob does prophesy the kingship of Judah’s line.
So your parallel here, Cynthia, shows that Simeon’s “mystery” is in fact an “unexpected grace” descending from Jacob, also known as Israel. You remind us to keep “mystery” and “unexpected grace” in mind and be “grateful to God” for what we receive.
I take it your book of “Foundations of the Cross” meditates extensively on typology. I’ll look forward to reading it.
I’m sorry, Margaret; I somehow put my comments to you below Brian’s comment.
You know I love a good dramatic monologue, Cynthia, and in these three we have an abundance of riches. The two voices of Nunc Dimittis are deeply moving. I seen an unexpected (but probably non-biblical) connection to “But Who Am I?” In the film of The Ten Commandments, Moses has joined his fellow Hebrews incognito in the mud pits. He cradles an old man who has just been killed by an Egyptian overseer and that man expresses disappointment because he had prayed to God to see “the face of the Deliverer” before death closed his eyes. The irony is that Moses was indeed the Deliverer and God did indeed fulfill His promise.
Your Moses is an extremely different one from the one we are used to in popular culture. We think of Cecil B. DeMille’s version with Charlton Heston or Michelangelo’s monumental Moses sculpted out of marble. Moses is usually larger than life. Yours is truer to much of the biblical account — the shy stutterer. Yours is a diffident Moses — we do not see the educated man who was raised as a Prince of Egypt. We see him humbled as a shepherd which is also true and which makes him more of a precursor of Christ. I struggle with your word-choices of “psychology” and “scam” which took me out of the narrative yet had the advantage of making the narrative feel very current and relevant. This makes me think you are doing two things here: you’re writing a dramatic monologue for biblical Moses, but you’re also making Moses US. You don’t have Moses worrying about how he’s going to face and convince Pharaoh. You have him worried about how he’s going to gain control over an uncontrollable mob. This is current events.
Thank you, Brian, I’m glad you enjoyed the drama of my retelling of these great biblical stories. I actually don’t think I ever saw the movie about the Ten Commandments. I’ve seen fewer movies than most people, I’m sure. You describe what sounds like a very poignant scene in it.
I honestly didn’t have current events in mind when I wrote this poem; but I’m glad if it can have that meaning as well. (Sometimes we don’t know what we’re writing until it’s written.)
Your comment that Moses isn’t thinking about Pharaoh is interesting; when I think about it, trying to put myself in his shoes (sandals, I guess), it seems it would be easier — maybe even cathartic — to express anger toward a known adversary like Pharaoh, than to try to lead a huge crowd that doesn’t want to follow you.
Thank you for your thoughts about these characters, Margaret. I guess I have long identified with Moses, in the sense that I would absolutely NOT want to be given the job God gave him — so, when I read his own words, I feel strong empathy for him. My idea about psychology came largely from his saying that the people wouldn’t believe him when he told them they were supposed to follow him as their leader. It seems it would take a person who would know how to make people want to follow him — a good psychologist. (Or maybe a politician?) Most people who seem to be born leaders have the character defect of wanting power and control over others. Moses wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. He would have been happier tending his sheep, than trying to lead God’s very ornery “sheep” through the desert. Regarding what I was trying to do in “Nunc Dimittis”, I think my comments to Roy address this. I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean when you say that Simeon doesn’t identify the salvation to which he refers as God’s Son, since he said these words immediately after “he took Him into his arms and blessed God, saying, . . .” (Luke 2: 28) You are absolutely right that “Foundations of the Cross” attempts to be a somewhat in-depth look at typology, as I try, in many of the poems, to use subtle allusions to other places in Scripture than are plainly addressed, often pairing Old and New Testament verses as epigraphs. Thank you much for your interest in the book!
Thanks, Cynthia, and I see why you think Simeon identifies the child he takes into his arms as God’s son. You’re relying on that capitalized “Him.” What Bible did that come from? That “him” is not capitalized in Greek or Latin or in Douay or King James (the two most literal of the English versions). Its antecedent appears in verse 27 as the child Jesus whom the parents brought in to do for “him” after the custom of the law. When in verse 28 Simeon takes “him” into his arms, it means that child brought in by the parents, not God who made the promise. Not God’s son either, because the parents are right there with Simeon. When Simeon blesses God, he is addressing the God who gave the promise. That happened before the Son of God became incarnate, which means that Simeon cannot be addressing the child in his arms as the one who gave that “word.” Instead the child is what God promised Simeon he would see, identified as “salvation [the child] which thou [God who made the promise] hast prepared before the face of all peoples, a light [the child] to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory [the child] of thy [God’s who made the promise] people Israel. The second and third person pronouns and verbs are distinct. There are two persons here. Simeon holds one and speaks to the other. You and I know these two persons belong to one most blessed Trinity, but Simeon does not realize that, and does not speak as if God, or God’s son, is in his arms. What God promised, in some way unknown to us, before the child Jesus existed, is at last visible to Simeon.
Sorry to be so insistently repetitive–but now you know what I mean. If you mean the Nunc Dimittis is a passage in which Simeon recognizes baby Jesus as God and speaks to Him as such, the parallel with Jacob would be much less significant. Still worth meditation, though!
Cynthia, congratulations on the publication of “Foundations of the Cross”, which I have had the privilege of reading. “But Who Am I?” is one of my favorites. I love the way this poem sheds light on the all-too-human traits of those God chooses to assist Him. Your poem makes it easy for the majority of us to relate to Moses. He’s just an ordinary chap with his lack of confidence, his lack of eloquence, and his fear of the sheer enormity of the task at hand. In an age of elitist arrogance, tyranny, and division, it lets us know we are not alone. Our Maker reaches out to ALL. This beautiful book brings perspective and hope in a world gone awry. The poems shed fresh light on the scriptures, and I thoroughly recommend it. Cynthia, thank you!
And thank YOU so much, Susan, for your reams of encouragement along the way, ever since I’ve been involved with SCP, as well as, of course, your enthusiastic endorsement!
Beautiful and moving pieces of poetry focusing on those wonderfully revealing Bible moments when so much is revealed in so little. I have ordered your Foundations of the Cross as a result and look forward to reading it when it arrives shortly. Thanks.
Thank you so much, James! I am honored to have you as a reader. I love your comment about revealing much in little; I believe that is one of the purposes of poetry.
Great stuff indeed. Prone as I am to blunder, I stumbled at first on Simeon. The two quotes I applied to Jacob, the second more indirectly, of course. When I hit Simeon, I thought of Jacob’s son and his role in Joseph’s abduction and rescue. That’s no fault of the author, though a tiny aside might aid the stumblers like me. Perhaps, “Simeon at the Temple” or some such. It’s really not needed. Just a human reflex to blame the text instead of the reader (me).
Most favored phrase: “Now that your mystery has been unsealed.” It captures that something has been revealed; indeed, Christ Himself is quite a mystery. Your phrase captured the “puzzle solved, not solved,” aspect to it all very deftly.
It’s rare for me to find biblical poetry that doesn’t merely restate the bible (or in the case of my environs bend it with misunderstood irony. Double the refreshment here.
Back to the poem. The insight is genuine and perceptive. The read was light for all the heavy themes–no mean trick to pull off!
Thank you very much for your thoughtful reading of the poems, Daniel. Yes, I love the mysterious aspects of the bible; God’s plans for and execution of history are unavoidably mysterious, since we are not omniscient. Yet the New Testament begins to reveal the mysteries; as you say, “puzzle solved, not solved” (that is, in time, and on earth). Focusing on these mysteries and revelations that unify the bible was my goal in writing “Foundations.” I’m very happy that you found the poem perceptive.
I particularly liked the Moses piece. You have a way of making heroic humanity with its lack of self-confidence come alive; we are very imperfect things to be used by the Divinity. Very nicely done!
Thank you so much, Louis! I am so glad I’ve never had to do anything like Moses had to do!
Wonderful work, as always, Cynthia. I especially love the Simeon section of Nunc Dimittis and the way you tease out Simeon’s sense of relief as well as of fulfillment. As I’m sure you know, this aria of Luke’s is part of Night Prayer/Compline in the breviary. I pray it every night, and will happily–even joyfully–swap in your version every now and then. Thank you for being both an inspiration and a comfort. God bless.
I’m so grateful for your comment, and to have you as a reader, Jeffrey. Your work is inspiring, too. Yes, we Anglicans say the Nunc Dimittis as part of Evening Prayer from the Book of Common Prayer, which calls it a Hymn. Whatever it is called, it is beautiful.