Can you solve these riddles? “I have no eyes. I have no legs. But I help move the earth. Who am I?” (A worm.) “I can run but never walk. I have a mouth but never talk. I have a bed but never sleep. Who am I?” (A river.) If you wrote such a riddle about yourself or about God, what would it say? How would you describe yourself? How would you describe God? The burning bush, which Moses witnessed, sheds light on the age-old questions: “Who am I?” and “Who is God?” Let’s find out what Moses learned.
“Who am I?” I dare say that was a question Moses was used to asking himself. “Am I Jew or Egyptian? Am I slave or royalty?” The cause of confusion was that, although Moses had been born to Jewish slaves, he had been adopted by the princess of Egypt when she found him floating in that basket in the Nile River. Although he grew up in the palace as Pharaoh’s grandson, Moses never managed to shake his humble Jewish roots. But by the time he turned 40, however, Moses believed he had the answer to the age-old question of who he was. He thought he was to be the leader, dare I say savior of his people the Israelites. He made his bid as Israelite leader when he killed one of the many Egyptian slave drivers who were making life miserable for his people. But while Moses was certain of who he was, the Israelites, whom he had hoped to rescue, were not. When Moses later tried intervening between two quarrelling Israelites they turned on him and challenged: “Who are you? Are you going to kill us like you killed that Egyptian?” (Exodus 2:14)
Terrified that his secret was out, Moses fled to the wilderness of Midian where he lived as a shepherd for the next 40 years. You can be sure that during that time the age-old question came back to haunt Moses: “Who am I?” Now a few not-so-flattering descriptions seemed to fit. Who was Moses? He was a political failure, a murderer, and now a loner.
An encounter with a burning bush, however, would challenge these perceptions. With his father-in-law’s sheep in tow, Moses ascended the highlands of Horeb to look for green pasture. What he found was a bush fire. The fact that a bush was on fire in the middle of the wilderness didn’t seem to faze Moses. What caught his attention, however, was that the bush didn’t seem to disintegrate in the flames. When Moses moved closer to investigate, a voice spoke from within the fire. “Moses! Stop right there and take off your sandals. You’re on holy ground. I am the God of your fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” (Exodus 3:3, 5). Upon hearing the voice of God, Moses thought he had at least one more answer to the age-old question: “Who am I?” As he averted his gaze afraid to look at God, Moses thought: “I’m a dead man! God has finally caught up with me to punish me for the murder I committed in Egypt!”
But God had not come to destroy Moses. Instead God announced: “I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt” (Exodus 3:10b).
“You want ME to do WHAT?!?” exclaimed Moses. “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11) In addition to being a political failure, a murderer, and a loner, Moses may have figured he was over-the-hill and well past the prime of his life for such an endeavor. Seriously, what kind of confidence could an 80-year-old shepherd instill in the Israelites when he announced to them that he had been handpicked by God to be their leader? If you were caught in a house fire, would you want your 80-year-old neighbor to attempt your rescue, or a younger, fit firefighter dressed in all his gear? The answer is obvious, isn’t it? And so wouldn’t God have done better to find a strapping young warrior-type and equipping him with an army for the rescue of his people from Egypt, than calling Moses?
God obviously didn’t think so. And here is the crux of our devotion. It didn’t matter who Moses was. Moses could have been a cripple. He could have been blind. He could have been a child. What was important is who God is. God explained as much when he said to Moses: “I will be with you” (Exodus 3:12).
“That’s great, God” Moses seemed to think, “But who are you?” Yes, who is God? What is he like? God tells us when he proclaimed from that burning bush: “I AM WHO I AM” (Exodus 3:14a). Hmm. Do you wish God would have described himself as something more exciting like the “Dominator,” or the “Enforcer”? What kind of name is “I AM”? How was that revelation to give Moses any confidence for his mission? Well let’s think about this name for a moment. When God calls himself the “I AM,” he first reveals that he is a personal being, not a nebulous force like electricity or magnetism that has great power but has no feelings. God has feelings. He had heard the cries of the Israelites. He had seen their misery and was moved to do something about it. The great I AM hears your cries and prayers too. He knows what misery you’re undergoing, AND he cares.
Well if God really cared about the Israelites, couldn’t he have found a better person to rescue them than Moses? To answer that question we’ll go back to God’s name. Note how God called himself the “I AM” not the “I WOULD BE if only you would…” In other words the name “I AM” emphasizes that God is absolutely independent. God is not dependant on us to accomplish his will, like we are partially dependant on the shape and size of a stone if we want to successfully skip it across the river. God knew all about Moses. He knew of his past arrogance. He knew of his rash act of murder. But that wasn’t going to stop God from using this lumpy piece of clay named Moses to skip the Israelites out of Egypt. That not only denotes power on God’s part; it denotes grace. Moses did not deserve this honor of being chosen leader but God made the choice because he felt like it.
In the same way we don’t deserve the honor of being called God’s children. In our Epistle Lesson the Apostle Paul warned us not to be like the Israelites when they tested God on the way to the Promised Land by grumbling. In spite of that divinely inspired warning we’re still chronic grumblers, aren’t we? Sure we may have thanked God for the warmer temperatures this week but we probably also complained about the mud caused by the snowmelt. We may have bowed our head to give thanks for our evening meal last night but then we screwed up our face at having to eat our vegetables. We pledged our undying love to our spouse on our wedding day but instead of rejoicing in this gift from God, we burn when our spouse doesn’t wipe the sink after they’re done in the washroom. If you’ve ever gone on a trip with someone who is constantly complaining about the food, about the weather, about the accommodations, you can begin to understand God’s disgust at our constant griping.
There is only one reason God puts with us. He puts up with us because he is the great I AM. That name also emphasizes the fact that God is absolutely constant. God did not call himself the I WAS, or the I WILL BE. Because God is constant he kept the promised he made to Adam and Eve thousands of years ago to send a savior. Now, had you and I been God, we would have pulled the plug on that plan a long time ago. It’s one thing to save people you know will be grateful for what you have done but it’s quite another thing to save people who will spit you in the face for the trouble. Although God knew we would be frequently ungrateful for his forgiveness, he stuck to the plan and the promise because he is constant. Jesus came. And Jesus died to save us from the times we grumble about the mud, the vegetables, and our spouse.
Of course there is a temptation to take advantage of God’s constancy. A child who knows his parent will bail him out every time he gets into financial difficulty will usually never bother learning the importance of budgeting. And so if God forgives us every time we sin, we may think what’s the point of trying not to sin? When we are tempted to treat God with such contempt we need to journey to Mt. Horeb with Moses, for as Moses drew near the burning bush, God told him to take off his sandals for he was standing on holy ground. I don’t suppose the ground where Moses was standing looked any different than the miles of ground he had covered to get to Horeb. But because God was there to meet with a sinner, Moses was to treat his surroundings with respect. And so, for example, when we enter this church we will do so with reverence. No, it may not look like much compared to the cathedrals of Europe but this place is holy because God meets sinners here. For that matter your dinner table with the leftover supper scraps becomes holy when you pull out the Bible for devotions. When that happens “take off your sandals” by taking your mind off the day’s distractions and tomorrow’s to-do list and give ear to God’s Word. Likewise when you shuffle forward for the Lord’s Supper be reminded that you are standing on holy ground for although you only see and taste a bit of bread and wine, Jesus, the God-man, is meeting with you. He comes to take your sins away. That makes this place and this act of Holy Communion sacred. So no, God’s constancy is no excuse for flippancy; it’s a reason for reverent decency.
“Who am I?” Is that a question you’ve asked yourself? Sure it is. The student asks: “Who am I? Where do I fit in at school?” The new parent asks: “Who am I? How will I ever properly care for this child?” The widow asks: “Who am I now that my spouse is in heaven?” Your pastor and staff minister ask: “Who are we that God should call us to train and encourage his people at St. Peter’s?” We members of St. Peter’s ask: “Who are we to think that our little congregation can support two called workers and take on a building project?” When these thoughts and doubts race through our minds, we will humbly take off our sandals and listen to God speak. He calls us by name, as he did Moses, and says: “It doesn’t matter who you are. What matters is I AM. I AM with you. I AM for you. I AM your shield, your joy, your hope. So go, boldly serve as did Moses.” Amen.
