This is My Father's World

I think I have written before about how much I enjoy nature. There is a sense of order, of majesty, of serenity, that greets me whenever I spend time outside. A few years ago, my close friend got a side-by-side ATV, and we spent many evenings riding through the woods around her property looking for deer, turkey, the seasonal flora that is fun to watch unfold. My daily walks also point me to the glory God has created for us in this section of Pennsylvania.

But as much as I love the serenity that quietly enjoying nature provides, I also confess to a certain amount of hypocrisy in what I am about to write. I often exhort other people to slow down, to look inward, to discern God in their lives while I continue to dash through my own days, running errands, responding to real or imagined needs, and sometimes ignoring the voice that tells me to stop. Stop just a moment and wait on the Lord.

This week in my readings I ran across the story of Moses in Exodus 3:1-6:

While tending the sheep of his father-in-law Jethro, priest of Median, Moses led the flock along the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There an angel of the Lord appeared to him as a fire blazing out from a bush. Although the bush was on fire, it was not burnt up, and Moses said to himself, “I must go across and see this remarkable sight. Why ever does not the bush burn away?” When the Lord saw Moses had turned aside to look, he called him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses”. He answered, “Here I am!” God said, “Do not come near! Take off your sandals, for the place you are standing is holy ground.” Then he said, “I am the God of your father, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

This story seemed written for me, for you, for all of us affected with busy lives—the story of a man who turned aside from what he was doing to encounter the living God.

At the beginning of this story, you might remember, Moses is a fugitive. He had killed a man in Egypt and fled across the Sinai Peninsula to Midian where he married a Midianite woman. He seems to have everything he wants. His father-in-law Jethro is a well-to-do priest with plenty of land and livestock. So Moses goes to work for him. Then one day, while tending Jethro’s flock and minding his own business, he sees a bush burning in the middle of nowhere. The odd thing is that as Moses stands there watching it, he never sees a single twig turn to ash. The bush is never diminished, and Moses finally decides he has to take a closer look. It is at that moment that the Lord speaks to Moses from the bush, calling him by name and telling him to take off his shoes. God identifies himself in relationship to Moses’ ancestors. God saw how badly people were treated in Egypt and he wants Moses to arrange their escape. Moses has major misgivings about his leadership abilities. “Who am I that I should bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He can barely lead sheep, what will he do with an entire nation? God replies, “I am with you.”

Moses keeps looking for any leverage he can find. He inquires of the bush, “If I tell the Israelites that the God of their forefathers has sent me, and they ask me your name, what am I to reply to them?”

“I AM THAT I AM,” God answers. Moses believes the burning bush and accepts his call. We know the ending of the story: that he delivers Israel to the promised land and becomes one of the heroes of the faith.

It seems that in those good old days there were unmistakable signs of the presence of God. I want those clear directions from the Lord, to see my own burning bush that calls me by name and tells me exactly what to do. Or at least I think that is what I want. But I stay so busy sometimes I wonder if I would see it. Do I stay so focused on my list of things to do that I would not notice a burning bush unless I was scorched by it? Or if I did see that bush, what would it ask me to do? Maybe I try to stay busy so God doesn’t notice me or sees that I have enough to do and calls on someone else to do the big things.

And if it isn’t a burning bush that talks to me maybe it’s the stunning sunset saying, “Don’t worry too much about this world. I can handle it.” Or the river in front of my house that says, “I know it looks rough to you right now, but there is a real quiet stretch right ahead. Trust me.” Trust God who inhabits all living things. Trust yourself to notice and turn aside.

So stop if you are willing. Risk getting burned, looking foolish, being wrong. Drop what you are doing to look at ever bush, every face, every event in your life. Look deeply for God’s presence and his call. Believe that whatever is going on, God is in it, and He can always be trusted.

Finally, if you get the knack of seeing burning bushes everywhere, consent to being set on fire yourself, to be for someone else the presence of God, so alive with unimagined possibility that sometimes the fire scares even you. We know that we will not be consumed and we will never be alone. I AM THAT I AM is with us, has been with us, and will be with us forever.