Sunday, September 3, 2023

Here I Am (Exodus 3:1-15)

 “Here I Am”

Exodus 3:1-15


Saint Catherine’s monastery is the oldest continuously inhabited monastery in the world. It was built in the sixth century, and contains the world’s oldest continually operating library. It was built around the location of what is traditionally considered to be the place of the burning bush seen by Moses.

There was no monastery here when Moses led the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, through this wilderness, searching, perhaps, for food or water for them. There were, as you can see, lots of rocks. But I imagine Moses knew how to find those few spots where a spring or underground water source made it possible for grass and other vegetation to grow.

Like any good shepherd, Moses was intent on his task, but I imagine that he was also able to soak in the beauty of his surroundings. 

Even though it is mostly barren, it looks beautiful; it reminds me of the mountains near Joshua Tree National Park. And early in the morning, or late in the day—as the sun rises or sets, or as clouds pass by and sometimes cover and then reveal the mountaintops—the rocks glow in the golden light, and the shadows move slowly across them. That’s what I remember most about camping at Joshua Tree, how the rocky peaks are constantly changing as light and shadow dance across them.

Maybe it was as his sheep were quietly feeding on some grass or drinking from a spring that something other than moving shadows caught Moses’ attention this day. For there, off to the side, Moses saw a bush on fire.

Perhaps, when he saw it, Moses thought: “Huh. Someone else is out here, and they left without putting out their fire, and now it’s spread to this bush.” 

Or, maybe if there had been storms in the area, Moses may have thought that it was lightning that set this bush on fire.

…And maybe Moses would have continued focusing on his flock, keeping them together, leading them to food or water, because this fire wasn’t going anywhere, it wasn’t a threat, because there was so little up here that could burn…

But wait; there was something different about the way this fire was burning. The bush wasn’t being consumed by the flame. It wasn’t turning to ash. The leaves weren’t even getting singed.

Moses paused what he was doing, and turned to take a closer look. He said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burning up.”

Now, what if Moses hadn’t taken that pause?  What if he hadn’t turned aside? What if he was so intent on leading and guiding his sheep, that he didn’t even notice anything unusual about this bush? What if he was so determined to get to his destination, that he just didn’t have time for this distraction?

It’s kind of hard to imagine this happening; we think, of course Moses paused to investigate this burning bush! 

But people don’t always pay attention to what’s going on around them. People aren’t always very good at observing things. I think it would actually be quite easy for any of us to walk right past that burning bush, and not see what was really happening, how it was engulfed in flame, and yet, was not being consumed.

We often miss many important, even dramatic events, in our lives, simply because we aren’t paying attention. We aren’t paying attention to the present. Our minds are always so focused on things that aren’t actually right in front of us, so we miss what is right in front of us.

For example: have you ever been served a well-prepared meal, but your mind was so distracted that, a few minutes later, you look down at your plate, and realize you’ve eaten it all, yet you don’t even really remember doing so? …and you really don’t remember how the food actually tasted?

And you want to go back in time, have a “do-over,” because you wanted to savor your meal, but now your stomach is full, your plate is empty, and you don’t even remember how it tasted…

Our minds are often somewhere other than where our bodies are. Our minds are stuck in the past, or in the future. Or, we let the TV or the internet take us away from where we’re at, so that we can escape to some fantasy world, or focus our attention on what’s happening somewhere many miles away. 

With all the ways our minds are distracted, I honestly don’t know if a flame coming out of a bush would attract that much attention from us.

Or maybe it would, but, this story isn’t really about a bush that’s on fire. This story is about God. It’s about noticing God’s presence in our lives. It’s about being aware of the Spirit that is as close to us as our own breath.

When was the last time you actually noticed that you were breathing? I know that when I do yoga, I’m supposed to breathe; yoga is as much about the mind as it is about the body. It’s about being mindful, and mindfulness is helped by breathing.

And in my feeble, not-very-frequent attempts at yoga, I’ll think, “I’m breathing…I’m breathing… I’m…I’m wondering what time it is…Did I move the car for street sweeping? I can’t afford another ticket. I’m not even sure I can’t afford this month’s rent. Oh, rent! Is that due today?...”

Now, I’m still breathing. But I’m no longer aware that I’m breathing. I’m no longer aware of anything that’s happening right now, right here, in this present moment.

The story of the burning bush is about noticing how God is present; how God is present now, reaching out to us.

Unfortunately, sometimes, I read the same way I practice yoga. My eyes will start moving across the page, and the first sentence or two will register in my brain, but then an outside thought intrudes, and my attention turns elsewhere; and the strange thing is that my eyes keep moving across the page…

And sometimes I’ll get halfway down the page, and realize I have no clue what I just read. And I have to go back and start the passage all over again.

Sometimes I’ll go over a passage two or three times before I actually pay attention enough to comprehend what it is I’m reading. Sometimes I need to read it out loud to myself, because that helps me focus, but it’s kind of weird if there are other people around.

And then there are the times when I know God is trying to reach out to me through the story I’m reading, whether it’s a section of scripture, or some other book. Sometimes God is present in the act of reading. 

For example, we read about God speaking to Moses through the burning bush, but we forget to ask: How is God speaking to us, through this Bible story?

Because even if we are paying attention to the story, and afterward we remember everything that happened, we still might not be paying attention to how God is present and speaking to us, through this story.

The Bible is a living text, and one of the ways God speaks to us is through our reading and our pondering the stories of scripture. 

Sometimes, I approach a scripture—a familiar scripture, like this one—and think, I’ve heard this story so many times, and I’ve heard so many sermons about it; what more could God possibly have to say to me through this story?

Or, I’ll come to a Bible story with my mind already made up about what it means. Maybe it’s a story I’ve known since childhood, a story that I read and studied in seminary, a story that has been interpreted by the church to mean a certain thing, or to give a certain lesson, that there can’t possibly be anything new to learn or understand about this story…

But sometimes…

Sometimes something in the story catches my attention… something I hadn’t noticed before… something that was brought up by someone whose book I read or whose sermon I heard…

And I think, “Woah! I never noticed that before!” Or, “I never thought of things that way before!”

And those are the moments when I get excited, and I say to myself, “I must stop and turn aside and look at this great sight…”

And in that moment, I notice, for the first time in a long time, that I’m breathing. I notice the shadows moving across the rocks; I notice the way the rocks themselves change color as the sun moves across the sky. 

I notice… God…

…who has always been there, always been present…

And I realize that, now, I’m praying, because, often, the best way to pray is to just be aware of God’s presence… to just notice God, right here, right now.


When Moses noticed that God was present, Moses said, “Here I am.”

This sounds like a response to God, as if God was looking for Moses but couldn’t quite find him.

“Moses? Moses? Where are you?”

“Here I am.”

But what if Moses’ statement is a reminder to himself, to be present? …to notice what is happening in this moment? …to give his full attention?

Here I am…

“Here I am…

It doesn’t sound all that different from me when I’m trying to do yoga, reminding myself to be present, reminding myself to breathe.

Here I am… right here… Come on, mind, stay focused, stay present…Notice what is going on here and now…because here, I am.”

And for us, we have so many more distractions than Moses had. We’re always looking for distractions. We turn the TV on, we turn the radio on, we grab our phones and start scrolling through memes and cat videos…

We do anything just to get away from our own thoughts; …anything to distract us from the present moment.

Yet even someone like Moses, I think, could be distracted. (Maybe that’s why God had to call his name twice: “Moses! Moses!”)

And maybe that’s why God told Moses to take off his shoes… feeling the earth beneath his feet, engaging that sense of touch, would help Moses be aware of his position, right here, right now…

And maybe that’s why so many other Bible passages—especially writings of the psalmists and prophets—begin with the word, “Behold!”

Behold!

A more modern translation would be: “Yo! Check this out! And pay attention!

Because all too often, our minds are not where our bodies are. 

And if our minds are not where our bodies are, then we will miss God’s presence. And not even a burning bush will help us take notice.


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