July 15, 2012 | 4:00 p.m.

Discovering Holy Ground

Judith L. Watt
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Exodus 3:1–15

The story of Moses and the burning bush is a story of call. It’s a story of God calling someone into God’s service, to do something. Several stories throughout the Bible are considered call stories—the calling of Moses, the calling of Isaiah, the calling of Jeremiah, the calling of Mary. They are considered call stories, not only because they are about God calling someone into service, but because they all share a similar structure. They all have the same common elements. In a while, we are going to look closely at this story of Moses and the burning bush and God to find those elements, because I think they help us see how call can or has been real in our own lives. But first, I want to speak a bit about the concept of call in general.

The root of the word call, in Latin, is vocare. It means “to call.” And it is linked to the word vocation. In some ways that is an unfortunate linkage, because today we link the word vocation with whatever a person’s job is. But for many people, their job is just that—a job, a way to keep food on the table. For many, a job is simply what you have to do each day in order to survive. Other people are fortunate. They happen to have jobs that link up to their sense of God’s deep calling on their lives. But even for those of us who say we have been called, like pastors, there is much in our “jobs” that doesn’t line up with what God has called us to be and do in the world. God’s call on our lives—on all of our lives—is beyond whatever job we may or may not have. God’s call on our lives is what God wants us to do and be in the world—sometimes for a lifetime and sometimes in the moment.

Frederick Buechner puts it this way when he speaks about call: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet” (Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life, p. 185).

In other words, “call” has something to do with your purpose, your interaction, your impact on a deep need that the world has. Call is not just about being fulfilled or feeling good. It includes activity in the world that is God’s activity, too.

Not all of us have a lifelong calling, but I think that God puts a call on our lives—all of our lives—to be a part of God’s saving action in the world. Sometimes in little ways. Sometimes in big ways.

Most of us want to know what purpose God has for us, what we are supposed to do that God really wants us to do in this life. Not all of us are called to go to Egypt to free God’s people from misery. Most of us won’t make the pages of the history books. And it’s too late to make the pages of the Bible. But we want to know. We want to know that the gifts we have are valuable to God. In our Reformed belief, we believe that we—all of us—are a priesthood of believers, all capable to doing ministry, ministering in the world, spreading the news of God’s good news.

If you struggle with knowing how God calls you or what your sense of call is, say a prayer asking God to show you. Say that prayer in the morning before you start your day and see what happens during the day. Notice the situations that are placed before you. Where does your deep joy or sense of accomplishment or fulfillment intersect with the world’s deep needs?

We aren’t all suited equally for dealing with all of the world’s deep needs. So pray, and see what God shows to you. But also note what catches your attention in the world. What are those burning bushes for you—those things that really grab your attention like the burning bush that made Moses stop and look? Because those things that grab your attention and won’t let you pass by are often those things through which God is speaking to you. What needs in the world raise your ire, tear at your heart over and over and over again? Sometimes those things are clues to what your calling might be. Where are your passions for the world’s needs?

A blog appeared just yesterday on Facebook that was titled “Feel angry, then do something.” Here’s what the blog said,

For all those that are angered, sickened, saddened, devastated, or outraged by the Freeh Report [regarding the Jerry Sandusky case at Penn State], I want to say this: Good. Feel that. Feel anger. Feel sick. Feel sad and outraged. Feel it all. Shed a tear. Punch your desk. Do whatever you need to do to feel what you need to feel. Then, once the emotion can settle, do something. Do something for children. Do something for victims. Speak about abuse. Talk to your children about their self-worth, and teach them to not allow anyone to violate them. Write letters to lawmakers. Donate to local shelters. Take that energy that you are feeling right now and use it. (fatpastor.wordpress.com/2012/07/12/feel-angry-then-do-something/)

If you have doubt that you are called to do anything in God’s world, pray for God to show you, take note of what happens, look for where your heart is triggered, what causes you pain or anger or a sense of indignation in the world—maybe those will be clues to where you are called to serve.

Let’s find the common elements in this story, the ones found in other stories throughout scripture commonly called Call Stories.

Look at chapter 3, verse 3: “Then Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not being burned up.’” The first common element in these call stories is an announcement, a divine confrontation, something that makes you stop and take note. What causes you to stop? To take note? To wonder? To feel deeply? Those might be the things that God is using to catch your attention. In my life, it was a period of time in which I kept questioning God’s actions, especially during the time of my parents’ deaths. The questions I had—even though full of doubt—were God’s way of tapping me on the shoulder, making God’s presence known in my life. I think the questions themselves came from God. That is how God got my attention. Why was I in such a place of deep questioning all of a sudden? I think it was God trying to get me to pay attention, and I believe it was God who was initiating those questions. So, first, a divine confrontation.

Now look at verse 4: “When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, ‘Moses, Moses!’ And he said, ‘Here I am.’” The second common element to these stories is a word of introduction. Moses! Yeah? Here I am; it’s God. And then God invites Moses to take off his sandals. Why does God invite him to do so? In the ancient Near East, it was common for the host to invite the guest to take off his sandals before he enters the house. If that is what we are supposed to take from this detail in the story, it’s a wonderful detail that shows God’s hospitality to us, a wonderful part of the introduction. Or the other reason Moses is asked to take off his sandals is that it might convey awe. There was an old religious practice of baring oneself or parts of one’s body in the presence of the divine. Both could be true—hospitality of God or a feeling of awe on Moses’ part. For me, the sense of a God that is worthy of awe who is also hospitable to us and all of our humanness makes me so thankful to have a sense of this God in my life. For me, it’s both-and: awe and welcome, awe and grace. And so when we have experiences of God in our lives—a felt sense of God’s presence, a sense that God really cares what we do, a sense that God knows us personally in some way—our first reaction is not to believe it, because the awe is too great. To remember the welcome, on the other side of the coin, is a great help.

The third common element in these call stories is the commission. Look at verse 7: “Then the Lord said, I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt.” God calls us to work that is saving work, healing work, life-giving work, loving work, work that will improve this world. Your call might be something you are called to do on a certain day or for a certain piece of time.

Then, there’s a next part: objection. Look at verse 11: “But Moses said to God, ‘Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?’” The person called feels unworthy, ill-equipped, often not understanding of why the call. When I was struggling with my call to seminary, I couldn’t even use the word call. It felt presumptuous to me. Who am I, I thought, that God should be calling me to ministry? Moses goes through all the objections he can think of, ending with his statement later on in the story that he can’t speak and he’s never been much good at it. Have you felt that way, when you’ve had a sense that God is demanding something of you, asking something of you, even if it’s been as small as making restitution for something or smoothing over a quarrel between you and a family member or stating a firm belief you have to someone because you think God wants you to do this?

The fifth element is the reassurance. God does this with Moses over and over again. Verse 12: “I will be with you.” “Tell them I AM sent you” in verse 14.

And finally, in addition to the reassurance, there is often a sign that God gives. Verse 12, the second part: “and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

In our lives, I don’t think we often have that sense right away if what we’ve done is what God’s wanted us to do. I don’t think we always get a sign to use as a marker. A lot of people have been discouraged by the outcome of the General Assembly in Pittsburgh a couple of weeks ago. I can become discouraged by the fact that racism still exists, even though our civil laws about racism have changed so much, but there is still institutional racism and subtle racism. For some of us, God’s signs that we’ve had any impact don’t come soon enough. But the conversations that were being conducted at the General Assembly were conversations that never would have been conducted fifteen years ago. And while all sorts of -isms still exist in this world, stepping back allows us to see that the long arc of justice continues, slowly but surely, in the right direction.

A Catholic Benedictine sister, Joan Chittister, says it another way: “How many snowflakes have to gather on the limb of a tree before it breaks and falls. A lot. And I just want to be sure I’m one of those snowflakes, doing my part” (Joan Chittister, On Obedience and Action, podcast, On Being, NPR). God has called each one of us into God’s saving activity in the world. A call is placed on our lives as believers. It’s not always easy to discern. But the call is placed on our lives because God needs us, and the call is placed on our lives because God values us, despite our inabilities, despite our doubts, despite our imperfections and failings. That is truly good news.