Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, “I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up.”
When the Lord saw that he
had gone over to look, God called to him from within the
bush, “Moses! Moses!”
And Moses said, “Here I am.”
“Do not come any closer,” God
said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy
ground.” Then he said, “I am the God of your father, the God of
Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.”
At this, Moses hid his face,
because he was afraid to look at God. (Exodus 3:1-6)
There are lots more psalms of praise, but it’s time to move on. The next section in Getting Involved With God, by Ellen Davis, explores what she calls “the cost of love,” by looking at instances in which God called someone. In today’s case, Moses had been raised in Egypt, had murdered an Egyptian official, had run to Midian, and built a life there as a shepherd. The descendants of Abraham went to Egypt as shepherds and had a good view of how a superpower worked. Now a member of the superpower had gone away from Egypt and had gotten a good view of how a shepherd worked. Both are useful lessons.
But it’s after these lessons had
been learned that Moses encountered a distraction that interfered with his
second life: a bush that burned without burning up. He was attracted by his
curiosity. When he got closer, God called him by name and told him what he was
to do.
As I noted in yesterday’s blog,
God’s involvement with someone isn’t because the person is perfect, good,
righteous, wonderful, or superlative in any way. God had to tell Moses how to
behave. And it began with a command to stay away. Moses was not to approach too
closely. Later, God would set a perimeter around a mountain. God has what might
be called “personal space.” Approaching too closely when Moses had just met God
would have been an act of aggression on Moses’ part. It would have been rude,
even if no aggression was intended. Instead, God made it clear that He was He
was the authority, and Moses the servant.
How would I
have responded to the bush, or the fire, or something calling my name? I’m not
sure I would have run away, but it's an option. After all,
bushes don’t talk. Fires don’t talk. And fires don’t burn without consuming. I’m
not sure, but I think curiosity would get the better of me. And given the fact
that I talk to “everything,” if a voice said, “Karen, Karen,” I suspect I might
answer, “Yes?” before common sense got the better of me. Not answering would be
rude.
I’m not
sure what the parallel would have been for God’s demands for respect. The “come
no closer” isn’t the problem. I tend to prefer a bit of personal space. But removing my sandals wouldn’t mean to me what it meant to Moses, at least
without having heard or read about it because of this incident. “Kneel before Me”
might get the idea across, but mostly because I’m not sure I could, at least,
not for long. “Be still and know that I am God” might work, because being still
is not a natural state for me, at least when someone starts issuing orders. Moses
had undoubtedly heard stories about the Egyptian gods and the god(s) worshipped
by his Midianite family. He also knew court etiquette in Egypt.
It was after God identified Himself that Moses hid his face. He was afraid to look at God. Clearly,
he was more afraid of what God would do if he tried to run away than if he
obeyed. I suspect he could have run away. I couldn’t. But curiosity overruled
cowardice and, perhaps, humiliation. What did this God want? He had to want
something.
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