“HOLY SMOKE”

Exodus 3:1-15

Some of you know that I am on the Committee on Ministry for the Presbytery. 

One of my assignments is to be the liaison for the Pastor Nominating Committee for West Valley Pres. who just happen to be looking for a new Senior Pastor. (just so you know, I’m not interested!)

The other day one of the committee members shared a letter from a interested minister.  It went as follows:

To the pastoral search committee: It is my understanding that you have a vacancy in your pulpit, and I would like to apply for the position.

I can’t say that I preach too well. In fact, I tend to stutter when I speak. I do have a lot of different experiences I could share with you, since I am over 75 years old.

I have only just recently had an encounter with God and, despite my initial resistance to the idea, I heard a Voice which told me personally that I was the one to do the ministry for you. One never knows when God will appear right before your very eyes.

As far as people skills go, I do tend to lose my temper every once in a while. I also tend to want things done my way, and can get violent if it’s not taken care of right away. Once I even killed somebody.

But since I know you are gracious people, I know you will believe me when I say that’s all behind me now.

I intend on showing up there in a few weeks to lead you into a brighter future. Although I was reluctant at first to work with you, I still feel called to be with you nonetheless.

The committee member glanced up at the rest of the group. “Well, what do you think? Can this person be our leader or not?”

The rest of the committee was aghast. Have an old, arrogant, temperamental, obviously neurotic, ex-murderer as their pastor? Was this committee member crazy? Who signed the letter? Who had such colossal nerve?

The committee member eyed them all keenly before she answered, “It’s signed, ‘Moses.’”

Okay, I’ll come clean.  I made that all up.  But it is an accurate description of Moses’ qualifications to lead. I guess that God didn’t require the same qualifications for a job that we would today.

You all know Moses’ story, right?  It is a quaint little story.

The Moses saga is one of the most familiar in all of scripture. From our earliest Sunday School days we remember learning the story of his birth into a nation of Hebrew slaves in Egypt.

How the mean old Pharaoh had issued a population-control decree saying that Hebrew baby boys should be put to death … so his mother left him in a makeshift basket at the edge of the Nile River to hide our infant hero.

Finally, Pharaoh’s daughter to the rescue with Moses being brought into the palace as an adopted member of the royal family.

We also remember that Moses was not allowed to forget his heritage. A clever bit of deception by his big sister Miriam had allowed him to be wet nursed by his own mother with Pharaoh’s money paying for the privilege.

Meanwhile, the Hebrew nation was languishing in its bondage.

Moses grew to an adult. Then one day he witnessed the harsh treatment of a Hebrew slave by his Egyptian overseer.  He was so filled with righteous indignation that he struck and killed the overseer, burying the body in the sand.

A day or so later our hero sees two Hebrews fighting and tries to mediate their dispute. They know about the dead Egyptian.

He figures if they know it’s only a matter of time before his dastardly deed will be uncovered and he would be on the lam!… it is probably time to make himself scarce. He eventually lands in Midian where he settles down, marries, has children, and begins a career as a shepherd.

That brings us to this unusual story that is the focus of our morning’s Old Testament lesson.

The Burning Bush, a symbol adopted by Presbyterians around the world to show how God can and does turn the ordinary into the EXTRAordinary … the transforming power that comes when the natural meets the SUPERnatural.

The bush was probably an ordinary bramble bush, the most usual kind of vegetation in those parts.

The fire wouldn’t have been that remarkable because spontaneous combustion is not unheard of in dry, hot, desert country.

But a fire that burns but does not consume? Hmm. Moses comes over to investigate.

Suddenly, he hears his name: “Moses, Moses!” The voice is coming from the bush.

Moses leans in, his head cocked to one side in wonder. “Ah… Here I am.”

The voice again. “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your

feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

“Uh-huh.” Moses, looking as bewildered as you or I might be, fumbled around with the thongs that held his sandals in place, removed them, then looked quizzically at the bush again.

The voice. “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”

“Riiiiiight.” This is one of those passages that Bill Cosby could have a field day with.

The bush speaks...the voice of GOD!!! “Riiiiiiight. Am I on Candid Camera?” No cameras back then.

So, instead, Moses responds by shielding his face, because he knew to look at the face of God was to die.

And God says, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters.

“Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey...”

Now, I’m sure that Moses is overjoyed to be cued in on God’s plans – to know that all is going to be well. It is reassuring to know that God is a God who is not aloof from the plight of people suffering injustice and oppression.

God is a God who not only heard their cry, but as a consequence has decided to intervene and turn things around.

Of course, one wonders why it has taken God so long to notice, considering it has only been 400 years that the people have been enslaved, but that is another story.

Still, the good news is that the unjust situation will be redressed, the cry of the people will not have gone for naught, God’s righteousness will be vindicated, and the people’s plight will be overcome.

Quite an agenda—even for God. But an agenda because it is God’s, that Moses can believe in and applaud.

He may even have gone on to think, “And when God gets all that done, maybe it will even be safe for me to go back to Egypt and settle in with the family once again.”

Ahhh… but God isn’t finished. There is more to the message. And that “more” stops Moses right in his tracks.

God continues: “And now, behold, I will send you to Pharaoh that you may bring forth my people.”

What a shock! Just as Moses is about to sit back and watch God move into high gear and free the Israelites, there is a second word, not reassuring this time but dismaying, that God is drafting Moses to go back to Egypt and do all the leg work for God, by taking on the Pharaoh himself.

How inconsiderate of God! God is not taking Moses’ personal plight seriously at all.

Moses is supposed to go back to the very place from which he had fled with a price on his head, put everything on the line and help a powerless people escape from a very powerful Pharaoh.

Is Moses pleased at the prospect of such a partnership with God? Not in the least. He wants no part of it.

Taken aback by the suddenness and unattractiveness of the offer, he lamely replies with the excuse that he is no one to go eyeball-to-eyeball with Pharaoh, because he s-s-s-t-t-tutt-tt-ers.

God is not impressed. God will give Moses the words when they are needed. No excuses.

And so Moses, who would never have enlisted in the campaign in the first place, finds that even so he has been drafted, and that he really doesn’t have much choice but to report for active duty.

He has been able to flee from the long arm of the Egyptian law, but he knows he cannot flee from the even longer arm of God.

So it’s back to Egypt, into the belly of the Egyptian court, from which finally (with some spectacular help, to be sure, from the Almighty) the Israelites escape from the long arm of Pharaoh, who discovers that his arm isn’t quite as long as he had thought.

An old, quaint, story.

Why spend so long on this “quaint, old story” about someone who lived long ago, far removed from our time and place?

Because, whether we like it or not, Moses’ story is also our story. When we learn about Moses, we are learning about ourselves.

In what ways, then, are we like him? Let me suggest just three:

First, as with Moses, we like promises but we dislike demands. This is true on many levels of our life:

“I promise you’ll make the pitching staff of the Giants next year.” (Great!) “But you’ll have to work all winter long, without any time off, perfecting a sinker ball.” (Aw!)

“You are going to become a C.E.O. in the corporation of your choice” (Great!) “But first, you have to be tops in your class getting an M.B.A.” (Aw!)

The same thing holds true on even deeper levels:

 “I call you to be my disciple.” (Great!) “You may end up where I ended up, on a cross.” (Aw!)

So who wants extra demands? It’s hard enough just to live a decent, ordinary life without heroics.

And so we, like Moses, start bargaining with God: “How about if I just do the disciple bit on Sundays? I’ll work for justice, but I don’t have to stick my neck out, do I?”

As with Moses, so with us: we like promises but we dislike demands.

Then there’s a second reason we are like Moses. As with Moses we particularly dislike demands that involve us in conflict. Boy, can I related to that one!

After that conversation with God, Moses must have thought all of a sudden, how wonderful it would be just to stay out in the desert and feel God’s presence in the world of nature.

And we would prefer to do our “God thing” right here in the safe and secure confines of our church.

Religion, we insist, is supposed to warm us, give us serenity, help us fulfill our human potential—and for all that we need lots of time in comfortable places, with beautiful music, and a good sermon now and again.  BUT with an absolute minimum of conflict.

Sadly, it doesn’t work that way. Conflict seems to be the name of the game as far as God is concerned.

 If anything was sure for Moses, it was that going back to Egypt would put him right back in the midst of conflict.

The idea was for Moses to tell Pharaoh to let God’ s people go, and it could be taken for granted that Pharaoh wouldn’t be so keen on the idea.

I mean, who would build the pyramids? Who would repair the potholes on Charioteer Way in downtown Cairo? No way, Moses. Irreconcilable conflict.

It wasn’t going to be easy.  Issues of justice and freedom for those who are enslaved (physically, emotionally, or spiritually) are never easy. 

And often it takes being willing to stand up and say NO!  Often, to not just stand up – but to go out and minister to those less fortunate.  And that can cause conflict -- in the community… in church … even in our own families.

In truth, there are all kinds of issues that God calls upon us to be involved in. 

We need to remind and be reminded that there is One higher and mightier than even Pharaoh, One whom we are called upon to serve, no matter how inconvenient, no matter how threatening, no matter how disruptive of the comfortable shells we have around our individual lives.

That could be a pretty dreary picture, if there weren’t a final consideration.

Just like Moses, when we go into the places of conflict we are not alone, but God is there too, and that makes the struggle worthwhile. Even hopeful.

Moses doesn’t leave God out in the burning bush and arrive in Egypt all alone. When he gets to Pharaoh’s court, God is already there.

The story tells us that God is not just found in the nice, tidy, inspirational corners of life, bit in the midst of the ugly, messy and threatening centers of life.

The Moses story makes the point very clearly. God doesn’t stay aloof, but comes down into the midst of trouble.

When God hears the people’s cry, the message from the divine throne is not, “What a pity things fell apart down there,” but “I’ll come down and work with my people in the midst of their trouble.”

The Good News is that the presence of God is in the midst of everything that we have to go through. We are not alone. The power of God is not somewhere else, but right here.

We don’t “find God,” as the saying goes, (assuming that God has gotten “lost”) by running away from trouble or hiding with a pious religious cloak.

We discover, whenever we are trying to work for justice, that God has, once again, gotten there before us, and has been waiting (sometimes not too patiently) for us to show up and get into the struggle too.

So the word to Moses and to us is not just promises, devoid of demands. But, equally it’s not just demands devoid of promises. It’s both. And that, when all is said and done, is very good news indeed.

Amen.