The God Who Is Present - Exodus 3:1-15

Rev. Deborah Troester, STHPC, Sept. 3, 2023

A friend of ours, an Episcopal priest, once told us about a Christmas Eve service at his church. The sanctuary was beautifully decorated with poinsettias and wreaths. A Christmas tree, resplendent with sparkling lights, stood to one side of the altar. But one of those lights must have had a short, because during the service, the tree caught on fire. Thankfully, an alert altar-boy noticed it. He calmly walked behind the children, who were presenting their Christmas pageant and quickly fetched the fire extinguisher, walked calmly to the tree, pausing briefly to genuflect before the altar, and proceeded to put out the fire. Meanwhile, the service continued uninterrupted, and our friend wasn’t sure that everyone had even noticed how narrowly they had escaped a catastrophe. This impression was confirmed by a parishioner who congratulated him later on the service, adding, “I enjoyed the children’s pageant, especially the part about the burning bush.”

I think I first heard the story of Moses and the burning bush in Sunday School when I was a kid. I drew a picture of the burning bush,

using yellow, orange and red crayons to draw squiggly flames coming out of a scraggly little bush. Somehow God spoke to Moses out of that burning bush. Perhaps it was a bush with extraordinarily bright orange foliage. Maybe it was a vision or a mirage. Or maybe it was a miracle – a bush that burned but was not consumed.

Whatever it was, God sometimes does extraordinary things to get our attention. Moses’ life started with such promise – a miraculous delivery out of the Nile as a baby in a basket; growing up in Pharaoh’s palace. But then he had to flee to the desert after killing an Egyptian slave-master who was beating a slave. He knew he could never go back to his life of luxury in the palace, so he built a new life for himself in the Midian desert, married, had two sons, and was peacefully shepherding his father-in-law’s flock. Egypt was far away, although maybe sometimes, in the back of his mind, perhaps he thought of his people, and the family he left behind as slaves.

Maybe that was in his mind that day when he saw a bush that was blazing yet was not consumed. He decided to go look at it. This simple decision changed Moses’ life and the future of his people.

Some would say it changed the history of the world. What would have happened if Moses had ignored the bush, or the voice of God that came to him there?

Because of this strange encounter, Moses is set on the difficult path back to Egypt, back to his enslaved family and tribe, back to confront the most powerful man in the world at that time – Pharaoh – back to liberate his people from slavery, and help them forge a new identity as God’s people, headed to the Promised Land. If Moses had foreseen all this when he saw the bush, and what he would have to go through to accomplish God’s purposes, maybe he would have passed on by. But he didn’t. He recognized that this was a holy encounter, took off his shoes and listened to the voice of God calling his name, “Moses, Moses.” [pause] Why is it God always has to call us more than once to get our attention?  But Moses is listening, for he answers, “Here I am.” 

Are there times God calls us to turn aside from what we are doing and contemplate what God might want us to do? Are there times God shouts to get our attention, like a burning bush? Or maybe God speaks in a quieter voice – a rainbow, the stillness of a sunset, children laughing? We don’t need a burning bush to tell us of God’s presence. I ran across a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning this week that goes, “Earth’s crammed with heaven,/And every common bush afire with God;/But only he who sees, takes off his shoes,/The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries ...”

I think I’ve told you that I had a pastor who used to ask, “Where have you seen God this week?” I always loved hearing the answers different people would give: a neighbor helping someone, a new grandchild, maybe a rose in the garden. This is a good question to ask ourselves every day: “Where do I see God?” Pay attention. We don’t need a burning bush to know that God is there, waiting for us in the wilderness of our hearts.

When Moses heard God’s voice in the burning bush, two things became clear: God sees suffering and oppression, and God will do something about it. God said to Moses, “I have seen the misery of my people…I have heard their cry…I know their sufferings.” We don’t need a burning bush to know that God cares about us and knows what we are going through.

This story also tells us that God wants to do something about the suffering in the world, but it may involve us: God tells Moses, “I have come down to deliver them… So come, I will send you.” For Moses’ story is our story – we are also called to make a change for the better in this world. Most of us are not asked to go before the powerful and demand justice on behalf of the poor and suffering, yet I would not be standing here in this pulpit today if I were not convinced that God is calling each one of us to something: to a deeper relationship with God, to a more loving relationship with those around us, perhaps to right some injustice or to do some kindness that only we can do.

Something else strikes me about this story. When Moses asks God, “What if the Israelites want to know what is the name of this God who has sent me, what shall I say?” God answers, “I am who I am.” God didn’t say, “I was who I was,” or “I will be what I will be.” God tells Moses, “say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” God is the God of the present. What do I mean? I don’t know about you, but I tend to live way too much in the past or the future, and not nearly enough in the now.

When I live in the past I get angry or depressed about things that have happened that cannot be changed. When I live in the future, I get anxious and scared about what might happen. Yet God can’t really work in the past: what’s done is done. Yes, God forgives, and works to transform our pain into wisdom, or love, or even peace and joy, but God does all of that work in the present. Nor does God choose to work in the future because we’re not there yet – God may be there, but we aren’t. We’re here, in the present, and it’s here, in the present moment where we can encounter God. In fact, when we stop to think about it, we can only really be in relationship with someone in the present. This is true whether our relationship is with God or with someone else. Memories and dreams can be beautiful, but relationships are sustained in the present. Because Moses was able to be present, to listen to God, his life was transformed from a shepherd of sheep to the leader of his people.

We find God in the now, and most often we find God in the ordinary. Moses found God’s presence while he was going about the ordinary tasks of his daily life, and so do we. Maybe that’s why the church baptizes with plain, ordinary water.

Maybe that’s why Jesus chose bread and wine, the common food and drink of his day, for us use to remember him in the Lord’s Supper. Let’s worship the God who is present to us now: present in the ordinary things of life, present in the bread, present in the grape juice, present in each other. Like Moses, let us have eyes to see the fire that burns, but does not to consume or destroy, the Holy Spirit that lives in each of us, a holy fire that illumines our souls and gives warmth and comfort in the darkest night.

In a few minutes we will come to God’s table. As God is present to us in the bread and in the cup, let us be present to God: let us turn aside to see what God is doing in our lives, and what God wants to do in the world through us; let us listen to the voice of God calling each of us by name and let us respond, like Moses, “Here I am.”  Amen.

©Deborah Troester, 2023

 Let us pray:

Lord, help us to listen and to look for you each day, to be receptive to the ways you are speaking to us, especially when we least expect it, or when we are slow to recognize your voice amid the noise and competing voices in the world. Reassure us that you do see the suffering and injustice in the world and help us to know what you would have us to do to be a part of your liberating story. Help us to be present and to remember that you are the God who is always present to us. Amen.