Flames and Angels - Moses

When I graduated from seminary in the early 80’s, I bought a calligraphic print by Michael Podesta titled “Exodus.” The print illustrates the drama of Moses’ encounter with the burning bush. Framing the outside of the print is Moses’ plea to be left alone by God, his attempt to prove how unworthy he was of God’s attention. He argues “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” In the center of the print are orange flames rising up from the desert scrub with God’s words of promise and commitment, “I will be with you.”

Moses had been getting along just fine, in spite needing to flee to Midian after killing a brutal Egyptian overseer. He had established a life in exile, with a wife, son, and a home. The flaming bush appeared many years later, and God was calling him to leave all of that security behind. There was every reason to argue against God’s expectations for him to confront the overwhelming powers of government and civic religion.

When I try to picture myself in the story, once I got past my first response of grabbing the hose to put the fire out, I know I would do what Moses did. I would make excuses to get out of whatever those burning leaves were telling me. Who in their right mind wants to be told to quit their job, leave their family, and go to another country? I have bills to pay, and pension to think about, and responsibilities to my loved ones

Yet, several years ago, when I was teaching a class in which people could explore their own sense of being called, most of us wanted some kind of burning bush experience. As one person jokingly said, “I keep waiting for the billboard on the side of the Beltway to show up saying “Jan, your call is . . . .”

The appeal of the story for many of us is the clarity of God’s call. Maybe it is the residue of watching Hollywood’s version of the dramatic encounter with Charleston Heston as Moses. But that movie leaves out a significant part of the story; it downplays God’s demand for a dramatic change. Unlike the movie, the Bible tells us that Moses argued back. He complained about his fear of public speaking. He did not want the job.

Few people have those kinds of encounters. Maybe most of us would rebel against such a difficult and frightening expectation? Maybe we haven’t gotten as far off course from God’s hopes for us as Moses had? Maybe few are ever called to actions that totally reshape the history of a people and of the world?

For whatever reasons, God seems to prefer a more subtle approach, one which urges us along, gently pointing, opening or closing doors, and filling us with ideas and hopes. We are invited to join in being with God, to act as co-creators in building the dream God has for the world. Throughout that dream building, God is faithful to the promise made to Moses, the promise that “I will be with you always."

That is why I keep that print close. It tries to remind me of God’s promise to me, to always be with me. I don’t always remember that promise. Much of the time when I get caught in the distractions of work, adult responsibility, and commitments, I forget to listen for God. When I have been gripped with fear or loneliness in the middle of the night God seems far away. Then I start yearning for the burning bush, again.

But what I really want is to believe it when God says “I will be with you. Always.”