The little things

Exodus 3:1-15

            I want to talk today about holy ground, about noticing the little things, and what we can do to find God in front of us.

            I’m guessing most of you remember something about Moses and the burning bush. It might literally be just that—that there was a guy named Moses and a burning bush—but at least that’s something! We remember it because of its simplicity. God speaking from a fiery bush that is not consumed. How cool is that?!

            The first thing that God says from the bush is “Remove your footwear!” because Moses is standing on holy ground. First of all, it’s worth considering why the ground is holy. It’s not because the ground possesses any kind of special resources or geological features; the ground is holy because God is there. Just like heaven is heaven because it is where God lives (for lack of a better term) so the ground before the bush is holy because that is where God meets Moses. That meeting requires not only God’s appearance but also Moses’ recognition. Moses recognizes that God has met him there, and, thus, the ground is hallowed.

            We all have our holy ground. Each year, I joke about the high holy days of deer hunting season, though, let’s be honest, a lot of what happens during those days is not exactly holy, but there is an element in hunting of returning to a holy space—a place where God might meet you in the silence, a refuge from the hustle and bustle of daily life. Another holy space might be this one—this sanctuary. We know that God doesn’t live in the church, but God may very well meet you here. Still, holy ground is not confined to the places you might expect. Holy ground can be at home, in nature, on the road, at work, or at the cemetery, or a garden, or it might not be on ground at all. How many times in scripture does God show up on the water, for instance?

            I suspect this is why we remember the burning bush story so well. It is a story grounded in a place that feels familiar to us. The bush is so tangible and not just because we all know what a bush is. It is a setting unencumbered by the specifics of historical time and place. You don’t need to know anything about Jewish history to grasp it. You are as qualified as me to understand it. It’s simple.

Wrestling with God on the trail and in life

Genesis 32:22-32

I thought I was under a lot of pressure to say something wise before going on sabbatical, but now I’m supposed to have found myself or something. Talk about pressure!

            It’s good to be back. Honestly, I can say that. It was also good to be gone. Those things are not mutually exclusive. One of the things I found to be very true over the course of a month walking the Superior Hiking Trail was the futility of grand declarations and defining experiences before you have them. There are lots of people hiking that trail for lots of different reasons. Some people are out there to make some definitive change in their lives. Something isn’t right back home and the trail offers a kind of proving ground to test a new way of living. But that wasn’t me.

            For others, they were out in the wilderness to find themselves. If you’ve ever read the book Wild or the seen the movie with Reese Witherspoon that’s the kind of mentality I’m talking about—people walking a trail because they don’t know who they are and something about it calls out to them. This is closer to an act of pilgrimage. You strip away the daily rigor of life and replace it with a different, simpler rigor and you may discover something about yourself you’ve never realized before, but again, that wasn’t why I was out there.

            I had the advantage of perspective. I wasn’t a 20-something trying to find myself, and neither was I in a mid-life crisis. But that’s not to say I knew what I was doing. There’s a tendency on the trail (as in life) to make wide, sweeping declarations about why we are doing what we are doing. Many of these declarations end up being impossible to maintain.

            How many of you know people who are constantly talking about making 180 degree changes in life? They’ve been going one way for so long, but now they’ve reached a point and decided, “Now’s the moment! I’m going to change.” I’m guessing many of you have been there. I’ve been there! Maybe you are there right now, thinking, “I just need to flip things completely around!”

            Some of you have grown past that stage, perhaps. There were plenty of those folks on the trail, too. People returning someplace meaningful… people just getting out to get out.

            That’s the thing about the trail: It’s a metaphor for life, because everyone has a different direction, pace, and purpose. Everybody is out there for different reasons. Everybody is starting and ending at different places. Everybody is looking for a different experience. Everybody suffers differently. Everybody enjoys it differently. It’s a huge mistake (whether on the trail or in life) to assume that everybody is in it for the same reason that you are. They’re not. Your goals are not other peoples’ goals. Your deepest desires are not their desires. Sometimes they line up, sure, but not always, not most of the time.

Do not go through life trying to make other people have the same purpose as you, especially not your spouse and especially (especially!) not your children. Even if you’re walking the same path, don’t assume it’s for the same reason.