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TODAY'S SCRIPTURE
1 One day Moses was taking care of Jethro's flock. (Jethro was the priest of Midian and also Moses' father-in-law.) When Moses led the flock to the west side of the desert, he came to Sinai, the mountain of God.2 There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire coming out of a bush. Moses saw that the bush was on fire, but it was not burning up.3 So he said, "I will go closer to this strange thing. How can a bush continue burning without burning up?"
*Exodus 3.1-3 (NCV)
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I served a little church in a very little almost no town-town in Southeast Georgia. My recollection is we had one yellow-blinking light in town and no stop lights. You need binoculars to spot this thing on a map.
One oddity about this sanctuary, unlike others in the area, was it kept a light on at night. Now, yes, sometimes churches in areas highly populated will do such for safety reasons. I was to discover this had nothing to do with safety.
I was told the reason for the light staying on. A truck driver would pass by the highway at night. He did this often. And he wrote the congregation asking it to keep on the light. He promised he would pay for the electricity. He had never and never did go in the church sanctuary. Why would he do this? He wrote of the comfort it gave him to see that "church light" on, when he drove by. So, periodically a check was received to cover the cost of the light.
Moses got a huge God-Reminder. He saw the Sacred in, not a light, but a flame. The enlightening - literally - experience was not from a sanctuary, but out of a bush. He was not in a little, mid-size, or large town or city. He was in the desert. He was not driving for a truck fleet, he was leading a flock of sheep - and maybe some goats mixed in, forming an integrated flock of followers (good preparation for the ethnically diverse tribes that would become his new church).
Moses had fled for his life, but God had other than a career in flock maintenance for Moses. God destined this exiled desert dweller to be the pastor of First Hebrew Tribes, and even more, lead them from Egypt Prison to Promised Land.
Okay, sometimes we are going right along - and we may be in hiding like Moses (if not physically, emotionally or spiritually). We have settled in on Safety Boulevard.
No, this is not what "I" had planned. But I am used to it, it feels safe: and, you know, not loyalty, not love, not courage, not anything but my security is priority.
Sure, God understands, for he loves me and wants me to be happy. No pain no gain - at least not pain like this - is not part of the divine plan for my life. * Sure, he suffered for me on a cross, but he does not want me to suffer like this. * Sure, I know what I said, but that was then, this is now. Plans change, even sacred promises. * Sure, God has let me know this momentary hurt needs gotten rid of asap; he assured me I was made for better. He just loves me so! (translated, Loves me so he is my escape route from staying on course when it costs me dearly to stay on course). * Sure, I have prayed about it and God agrees (translated, I prayed about it and never waited to see if God agrees, or, Sure, I kept an open mind, open to my mind already made up).
We rarely hear the certainty of the Divine Voice until we quit focusing on our "Sure." But one moment of sincere uncertainty can be a crevice out of which can glow a certainty that will never leave you uncertain again about what you must do - not want to do, not planned to do, not others told you to do - no, must do, must to obey the Master Shepherd of your life.
Sometimes, we do not hear God - even in crucial life-altering decisions, for that Voice is like a piccolo amidst all the trombones drowning out his guidance, and among the loudest is our own inner voice of justification and resolve, and feigned conviction. Amazing the ego-centric advice we will follow, when the Divine Counselor is just waiting to show us the right way - not the easy way, the cheap way, the quick way, the apparently sane way. And, at times, we are listening to so much advice from others, God can not get in a word edge-ways. Then, no wonder we look back and say, "If only..." But, there is Moses, and he could not get advice from his sheepy flock, and maybe that Silence prepared Him to listen to the Master Shepherd.
God intervenes. Maybe not by a voice out of a burning but not burning up desert bush, or rose in my garden. But, still, God intervenes. God says, "Stop. Listen. This Security Insurance you are paying for with your life investments, this is not my plan for you."
Yes, the Spirit still can stop us in our tracks. No, it may not be in a spectacular way. That Voice may be calling for our attention in many subtle ways. We may be passing by divine signs all strewn along our highway. Yet, we are speeding so fast to keep ourselves in denial, we do not see anything.
So, then, something happens that might wake us up to see, to reevaluate our life policy. Divorce papers. Termination of job. An arrest. An illness. Death of a friend or family member. Automobile accident.
No, I am not saying God said, "Okay, he'll not listen, so, I'm going to lead his spouse to divorce him and take the children away." Or, "Okay, I'll get that stubborn ladie's attention. I'll blow out that left tire; after the crash she'll have, my voice will come over loud-and-clear to her." No, God is not in the business of hurting with a inflict severe pain to get-your-attention technology.
Nevertheless, often tragedy or hurt, in some form, is the means we open to listen anew. Pain can open just the one tiny opening that Spirit needs to speak a huge word.
This happened to me late last year. That hurt was being taken by emergency crew to a hospital, and, later, a doctor saying over a scan, "Look, that is not normal, you could have had a heart attack." I laid there are three days. I prayed. I confessed. I rededicated my life to live it anew the moment of walking out that hospital. No, I had not been a "bad boy," but I needed a new beginning, a refocus, a fresh "Yes" to Christ.
That hospital stay was a burning bush. The graciousness of those who assisted me, when I was so weak I could barely move my body and barely conscious, was a burning bush. The kindness of doctors and nurses was a burning bush. The persons who let me share in private and confidence what I needed to share, was a burning bush.
On the third day, I was taken home. I walked into my home, and for the first time in many months it was peaceful. I felt it. Later, alone, I knelt in my den, and I prayed that God would help me from that point on to speak and do only what pleases God. That prayer changed my life.
And in just a matter of a few months, I was forced to make some heart wrenching decisions. And that burning bush prayer helped me to keep focus on what I could not and would never, by Grace, compromise for anyone, for I had said "Yes" anew to God.
See, your burning bush can have a Voice that does different things. Comfort. Guide. Rebuke. Warn. Yet, there will be one thing always constant: The Voice will not be merely the voice of others, the voice of a friend or loved one, the voice of just anyone, your own voice, the voice of your counselor or spiritual director, the voice of your pastor or priest.
No, this Voice will be the Voice of the I AM. And, at least I have discovered, when I am willing to be willing to hear from the Master Shepherd - somehow, somewhat, something that may not mean much at all to anyone else around me, will be a burning bush in which I am guided and encouraged, sometimes told my decision is not the right one, sometimes told it is the right one, by the One we call I AM.
Do you think Moses, in the midst of the troubles he had as Pastor Moses, ever wished to escape back to the desert alone and to his former flock? Do you ever think he questioned had he misheard God in the bush? And you may have to keep going back to the time you heard from the Spirit, to keep yourself in the way he led you to walk and the plan he gave you for your life and service.
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*This writing and ministry is the offering of Rev. Dr. Brian K. Wilcox, of SW Florida, a Pastor in the United Methodist Church, and Chaplain for the Charlotte County Jail. To contact Brian directly, write to barukhattah@embarqmail.com .
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