The Shrubbery
That Sends You

The moments of holy encounter are unnerving - dare I say troublesome. It's not the encounter itself - which a reader could be tempted to assume; it's the aftermath, the reckoning of something so powerful that a name doesn't even do it justice, and yet it knows you by name, which compels you to listen. This voice, a power, tugs on your heart; not only does it know you by name, it's aware of your deepest feelings. To be known by something that is paradoxically familiar and yet too big to define is a humbling moment - how can you not listen? Especially when it hits the right buttons of mystery and adventure.

Exodus 3, Moses' encounter with the burning bush while tending his father-in-law's flock in Midian, is an encounter just like that - this power tugs on Moses' heart and invites him to remember his people, the people that God had been attuned to hearing their laments. "Moses, Moses…" God called. "I have heard the cries of my people, the Israelites, and I plan to do something," God continued. I imagine that Moses was relieved to hear that God was finally going to do something about the injustice. Until God uttered the words, "So, I'm sending you."

I'm reminded of John Wesley's prayer, which shares that the mystery that calls us by name, that captures our hearts, eventually invites us to the holy surrender of our lives which leads to social holiness. Wesley prays, "You call me to immerse myself in, not to separate myself from, your world. You call me to be like salt in the world and through my meekness, commitment to peace, and humility to flavor life with your love. Without immersing myself in and influencing the lives of others, I can never be the force for good that you so long for me to be."

Exodus 3, and the Prayer of John Wesley remind us that while we often wait for God to act on behalf of justice, it's God who is waiting on, or inviting, us to bring about God's justice. Like Moses, we can think of all the ways that our ordinary life could never lead extraordinary movements of justice, but maybe that's the point; maybe we don't have to.

After all, Moses requests this mysterious blazing bush to reveal itself, and who wouldn't? This mysterious bush that calls by name responds with אֶהְיֶה אֲשֶׁר אֶהְיֶה, "I am who I will be," a present tense and future progressive tense rendering. This encounter is made real in our world by our obedience to incarnate God's presence in our world. God's presence is made tangible by who we choose to be. For some, they have experienced a God of perpetual harm and dehumanization; for others, those that have encountered the saints like Oscar Romero and Thérèse of Lisieux have experienced a God who shows up in burning fire - a Holy Spirit movement that sees the world in technicolor justice.