Editor’s note: This one is a little long, I got carried away with telling the story. Join me on a whimsical journey back to the burning bush.
Exodus 3:3-21: Moses, Me, and the Rest of Us Meet the Burning Bush (A Modern Retelling)
“Earth is crammed with heaven. And every common bush is afire with God.” -Elizabeth Barret Browning
“If you look close enough every bush is burning.” -Richard Rohr
“The angel of the lord appeared to him (Moses) in a flame of fire out of the bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet not consumed.” -Exodus 3:1
Imagine with me for a few moments; it is Sunday morning, and you are turning into the church parking lot and see that the huge, beautiful elm tree that’s been proudly growing at the entrance since 1937 is on fire. You avoid the parking lot and pull into the WPI lot to get a good view. The fire is quite intense and yet the tree is not consumed by the fire. And our sign along with our tiny food pantry remain unharmed.
Suddenly the fire trucks arrive and attach hoses to the yellow hydrant and several police cars are directing traffic.
The head of our deacons and an usher arrive and guide us all to a safe observation seat. Lots of water is poured from three trucks onto the flames. You fear the fire will engulf the church. And suddenly the chair of building and grounds is talking with fire department urging more water on the church, so it does not spread.
What started out as an ordinary day at church is anything but that now. Obviously, the printed order of worship will not be followed. What would any of us do? Who will be our Moses or at least his assistants?
And then it gets more intense. The fire takes on a voice and speaks everyone’s name. Everyone hears their individual name being called. In the original, it was only Moses called, but here on this Sunday, everyone hears their own name. This Yahweh is a definite mega-multi-tasker. Not only lights flame but talks to all of us at once.
The pastors are circulating through the congregation offering comfort and leading the response. “It is I, Lord, [your name here]. I am here.”
At this point, I think I would be wondering if I should drop to the ground and try to crawl away. The bush is burning, and now my name is being called. Maybe my therapist is right. Maybe I am a little crazy. Some of my kids think this whole church thing is a bit odd.
Still, there are no ashes, cinders, burned leaves, or smell of burning wood. The tree stands blazing but not consumed. Perhaps it is those (now legal) gummies I consumed last night, maybe something else was mixed with them.
The fire department calls for more trucks and is drenching the church. Hoses are everywhere. One truck pulled up over the curb and right through the beautiful hedges. There goes the landscaping budget.
Our beautiful Pride flag still waves in the wind. No sparks flying in its direction.
A larger crowd gathers in the city park across the street, traffic on both Park Avenue and Salisbury Street is detoured around the area.
In the Biblical story, it is just a small bush deep in the wilderness. Poor Moses was all alone except for the sheep. But he stayed right there. But in our time with so many distractions: cell phones, radios, I-pads, and social networks. I’m not sure if the people with bowed heads are praying or texting. A big tree was necessary to be seen above our normal distractions.
A helicopter is flying overheard. “Sky eye news. Boston Channel 4.”
Suddenly, a voice from the tree instructs us all at once. “Take off your shoes. This is holy ground AND drop your cell phones. This is holy ground. If you want to text, go across the street into the park.”
At this point, I resolve to get myself to urgent care right away. The braver people in the congregation respond in unison, “Yes, I am right here.” Graham says, “I am right here but not for long.” This is just too weird. First, a bush is burning. Then, everyone hears their name being called. Then, we all hear the same words and respond. Why couldn’t this be a normal Sunday when I’d go into church, get there early, and meditate? Moses had it easy. This is giving me a headache, and I need to sit down.
Then the Voice is telling us it hears and sees the suffering of all people like the people in Egypt and in many newer places. Like the God of our ancestors, it feels their pain. The homeless, the panhandlers, those who are hungry, those with their backs against the walls all around us are all seen.
Some congregants are silent; some are applauding. Pastors are agreeing with the voice and encouraging us. Social Justice Action Group and the Outreach Team are meeting together to decide what we do next.
It is summer so there is no official choir, but members who are present bravely go to the front steps so they can hear the organ and are singing “Nearer My God to Thee” as though we are on the Titanic.
Then someone, the bravest of us asks and challenges The Voice with, “Who are you? Who are YOU to disturb our Sunday morning like this? YOU are on sacred time. So, drop the whole flaming tree thing, Buddy.”
The voice responds, “I AM WHO I AM.”
Perfect for me. I’ll go on retreat for a few weeks and figure that out.
(This actually is the phrase that became YAHWEH usually written by the Hebrews as Yhwh derived from the Hebrew verb “to be.” The dropping the vowels is equivalent to not looking directly at God. No snarkyness here, this word is holy ground.)
But the voice continues, “Now you will go to Washington and confront your leaders, speak truth to power. Tell them to stop making my people suffer. And do something about the wildfires. Stop in Boston and New York along the way and speak to every leader in your path. Become the caravan others like to hate.”
Graham starts to chant, “Yea sure. You are, ‘I Am what I am.’ And I am fried eggs and ham. On my way to Pakistan. Is that all ya got? That’s like when I was a teenager asking my father for the car keys for a Saturday night date and he says MAYBE. Not very helpful.”
But as with Moses, God sees our fears and relents slightly. And as Moses was told first go to the leaders of the Israelites with what he has been told, today we are encouraged to stop at other progressive churches, especially the Alliance of Baptists. And then go to Pharoh and tell him to “let my people go.”
One who speaks like me and understands my fears speaks up like Moses saying, “Who are we to do such a thing? Why us? We don’t know enough. We aren’t ready. The people aren’t ready. Let us study more.”
The reply is “THE I AM WILL BE WITH YOU. Others will join with you and all your people.”
Sounds like a job for a Navy Seal team to me. Or time to sing folks songs around a campfire.
Graham replies “Lord I cannot walk that far.” While he thinks, “Sure, Dad, and you’ll drive on the date.”
“What do you think airplanes are for. I invented them for you. No excuses. And stop whining about Daddy.”
I’m looking for an escape hatch. Another brave person says, “But who are we to do such a thing. We have no strength. They will laugh and perhaps enslave us again. Put us in hospitals, jails, deport or even kill us. We’re just ordinary peaceful church goers”
And the voice says, “I WILL BE WITH YOU.”
Grumbling another says, “You being there was really helpful to the original Israelites during their hundred years in Egypt.”
As with Moses, God calls, and we respond with all of our excuses, resistances and fears and doubts. Typical call and response between God and his people.
A pastor challenges us “God tells us who he is, now the question is who are we.”
Not even fire consumes this “I AM.” Still the tree burns. And even our fear does not sway him.
Our frequent soloist on Sundays begins to sing “There is a balm in Gilead to soothe the Soul of the sore feet.”
What would any of us do? We arrive on Sunday morning expecting an ordinary worship service. Except the tree is calling us. It calls and we respond with all our doubts, excuses and resistances. The I AM calls now as it did then; we are led to respond.
Graham says I liked it better when it was just about lilies of the fields. But as long as others are with us. I might have the courage. I am not as brave as Moses, but I might be if I was with others.
What would any of us do?
The I AM
gave Moses a plan
despite his resistance.
And the rest is history.
And it calls again, calls in every again,
for every eternity.
I don’t know about burning bushes or trees
or what would happen to me
at the red sea.
Or, literally hearing my name called out loud
but I know what I hope I would do.
What would I say to Yahweh
Ya way
Or
No Way?
(The writer hereby apologizes to all poets and writers of verse in scripture.)
