Unqualified

Exodus 3:1-12

April 14, 2024 • Mount Pleasant UMC

The story is told that former President George W. Bush was passing through the airport when he thought he spotted Moses walking through the terminal. He told his Secret Service folks that he really admired Moses and just had to talk to him. So he called out, “Moses!” Moses ignored him and just kept walking, so Mr. Bush ran down the terminal and called out his name again. “Moses! Moses!” Moses walked even faster, seemingly trying to get away from the former president. But Mr. Bush would not be deterred, so finally Moses stopped and turned around, a bit exasperated. “How can I help you?” he asked, and Mr. Bush said, “Well, I wanted to talk to you but first I’m wondering why you ignored me for so long.” Moses sighed and said, “Well, the last time I talked to a bush, I ended up wandering in the desert for forty years.” (That may not be a true story.)

This morning we’re continuing our series called “Sticks,” looking at some of the famous trees in the Bible, and not just looking at them because they are trees. In the Bible, “trees are places of decisions” (Armstrong, Sticks, pg. 49), and as I shared last week, “Every significant theological event in the Bible is marked by a tree” (Sleeth qtd. in Armstrong, Sticks, pg. 1). So last week we looked at the first pair of trees in the Bible—the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (and I really wish that one had a shorter name), where decisions were made that have impacted all of human history. Should we obey God or not? The choice, you remember, was negative, and ever since that time God has been working to bring humanity back to himself. So this morning, in our whirlwind tour of Bible trees, we make a stop in the shadow of a famous mountain, Mt. Sinai, at a tree that caught on fire. We typically call it the burning bush, and there we meet a shepherd who is out tending his flock but can’t ignore something strange that is happening. His name is Moses.

You might remember him. After his mother saved him from an ethnic cleansing campaign in Egypt, Moses ended up being adopted by the ruling family of the nation and raised in the palace. For much of his early life, it seems, he was unaware that he is actually a Hebrew and that his people are the ones enslaved by Egypt. I don’t know if he somehow finds out who he is or exactly what happens that motivates him, but one day, Moses kills an Egyptian who is beating one of the Hebrews. He buries the Egyptian in the sand but the news gets around anyway, and Moses finds himself on the wrong side of the law. He runs away to the desert, meets and marries the daughter of a shepherd, has a son, and settles into life as a shepherd in the desert. From the palace to a nomad’s tent. And being a shepherd was tot an easy job. Most days, Moses would have been far from home as he took the sheep places where there might be grass and water. Moses likely wasn’t home for dinner or even bedtime most days, always on the move with his flock (cf. Goldingay, Exodus & Leviticus for Everyone, pg. 15).

And then one day, Moses is out and about, near Horeb (which is another name for Sinai), a place the author of Exodus calls “the mountain of God,” and he sees a “strange sight” (3:3). He sees a bush, a small tree, on fire. Now, that was not the strange part. A tree on fire in the desert, no big deal. The heat did strange things to the flora and fauna, what little there was. But a tree on fire in the desert and it’s not being consumed—that is strange. Now we, the readers, are told that this fire is the presence of “the angel of the Lord” (3:2), but Moses doesn’t know that at the time. All he can see is there’s a small tree, a scrubby tree, and it’s on fire but it’s still there. It’s not being burned up. What is going on?

When Moses gets close, God calls out his name. So the first thing I want us to notice is that God knows Moses’ name, and God knows your name. You are not an anonymous individual to the creator of the universe. God knows you by name. That’s hard for me to fathom because sometimes there are people I have known for a long time, people I think I know well, and I look at them and forget their name. Or someone I thought I made a connection with and they have no idea what my name is. Have you ever called your kids by the wrong name, or gone through the list to get to the right name? All of that happens to us, but the creator of the universe knows the name of every single one of the 8.1 billion people on Earth right now, and more than that, he has known the name of every single person who has ever lived. God knows your name. Let that sink in. You are loved so much that he knows you and calls you by name.

And God calls Moses by name because he has a mission for him. God not only knows your name, he is aware of your situation. God knows what Moses’ people are going through, and while debates rage about the severity of their enslavement and what it was actually like, the point is no one wants to be enslaved. The people are being held against their will, forced to work on Pharaoh’s building projects, and so they ask God for help. And God finds help for them in the person of Moses. When Moses first goes to look at the burning bush, though, God tells him to take off his shoes. Now, that’s an odd command, especially in the middle of the desert. Have you ever walked barefoot on sand that has had the sun shining on it for any length of time? Yeah, it’s hot. It will burn your toes pretty quickly! But taking off your shoes in a holy place is a way of showing respect, of acknowledging something of importance is taking place here. Now, this was not a typically holy place. It was not a temple or a shrine. It was an ordinary scrub tree at the base of an ordinary mountain. Nothing fancy. Today there’s a monastery in that location, but on that day there was only a tree and some sand and the shadow of the mountain. But it was the presence of God himself that made the place holy. “Wherever he is, is a holy place” (Oswalt, “Exodus,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary, Vol. 1, pg. 308).

So, God has gotten Moses’ attention, Moses has removed his sandals, and now the mission can begin. Here it is, Moses: go back to the place where you are wanted for murder, go up against the most powerful leader of the most powerful nation on Earth at the time, and demand that he give up his labor force. That’s it. That’s all you have to do, Moses. Easy peasy, right? God says, “So now, go” (3:10). But Moses objects. Moses objects a lot. We only read the first of his objections this morning, but over the next chapter and a half, he tries to get out of this mission in so many different ways. He tells God he has no status or power, that he doesn’t know (really) who God is, that his faith is kind of weak, and that he can’t speak very well. But, as my Old Testament professor John Oswalt points out, these aren’t really things about Moses. These are questions (or even doubts) about God. “Will you abandon me? What are you really like? Do you have the power to do this thing? Are you able to use human weakness?” (Oswalt 310). By the time we get to 4:13, after God has responded to all of Moses’ questions, Moses finally gives up and just says, “Please send someone else” (4:13). And that brings us to what’s behind all of this conversation: Moses believes he is unqualified.

Now, I’m willing to bet there was a time in Moses’ life where he believed he could do anything. When he lived in the palace, I have no doubt his ego would fill a room and then some. He had the best of everything, and probably even had servants who would take care of his every want. But then there was that fateful day when his anger took over and he killed the Egyptian. Moses’ self understanding up to that point had been prince of Egypt. But in that moment of anger, his self-image took a tumble and he began to define himself by his worst moment. Murderer. Liar. Outcast. Runaway. Unworthy. Unqualified. Shepherd, lowest of the low. Surely he was of no use to anyone now. Why would God call him? And why would God back him on this mission? Maybe this was all a set-up to get him back to Egypt where he would be arrested, tried and convicted. Forty years after the event, Moses is still believing the lie that he is forever defined by the mistake he made.

It’s easy to point a finger at Moses for doubting God’s call, but we do the same thing, and very often for the same reasons. Not that we murdered someone (at least I hope not). But in each of our lives, to varying degrees, there are things in our past we are ashamed of, things that we wish had never happened, things that we can’t seem to get past. A relationship that went bad, a business that failed, a job from which we were let go—and so many other things and places and events and people that maybe show up in our dreams or haunt our waking hours. When that happened, our self-identity changed. We became defined by this one thing in our past. Addict. Liar. Abuser. Broken. And then there are the ways our world holds us accountable for the things in our past. I am honestly surprised anyone still wants to run for public office or have much to do in the public eye anymore because of the way people relentlessly dig up the past of those who do. And if you did something stupid in your past, or got in trouble, or said something that is considered incorrect, watch out. It doesn’t matter if you’ve repented or moved on from the past, you will still be punished publicly. The world tells us we are defined by our past. And so Moses believes he will forever be known as the guy who killed the Egyptian.

But, friends, God does not define us by the things in our past. Yes, he calls us to repent and change and move in a different direction, but when that happens, we are no longer unqualified and no longer defined by whatever happened then. I think about John 8, the story of the woman caught in adultery. Maybe you remember her story, the woman who became a pawn in a power struggle between Jesus and the Pharisees. They bring a woman who was caught “in the act” of adultery, and I’ve always wondered why they didn’t bring the guy as well. But that’s a discussion for another time. They ask Jesus what they should do with her, and for a time he doesn’t really answer. When he does, he puts the responsibility back on them. “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7). What I want you to notice, though, is that after her accusers have left, Jesus talks directly to her. Until this point, everyone has been talking about her, but Jesus talks to her, in her own burning bush moment. “Has no one condemned you?” he asks. And she, probably expecting that he will be the one to condemn her, says, “No one, sir.” There’s almost an understood, “Not yet, anyway.” And I can’t imagine Jesus saying the next thing without a smile, but he says, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:9-11). Jesus, the only one who could have defined her by her past and condemned her for her actions, chooses not to. Because that’s what God is like. He will not hold your past over you. He is grace, mercy and forgiveness and he still calls you, by name, to follow into the future he has for you. Do you need that good news this morning? He knows your name, and he calls you into his mission. You are not unqualified. And Moses learns that at the burning bush.

One other thing I want you to notice about this God who is a consuming fire (cf. Deuteronomy 4:24; Hebrews 12:29) but does not consume the bush. That is this: “God is not a tyrant who merely shouts, ‘Either do it or die!’” (Oswalt 307). Other prophets in the ancient world were said to be “possessed,” that their “god” took over their mind and body and they had no control. But those whom our God contacts are said to be “filled” with God’s spirit, not possessed. God invites and enters into dialogue with his people rather than forcing them to do what he wants. He loves to work with us, in us, alongside us, but he will never force us to do what he says because that’s not love and God is love (cf. 1 John 4:8).

So, then, here’s the question we need to ask as we stand by this burning bush: how can I know when God is showing up in my life? And how do I respond when he does? This morning, I want to give you three suggestions from the story of Moses that may be helpful in such situations. First is this: be aware and awake when things seem out of the ordinary. Moses was going about his business; he did not have “watch for burning bushes” on his calendar for this particular day. It was an ordinary day in a ordinary place, probably a place he had been to many, many times. But then something caught his eye. Something grabbed his attention. Something was different. In those moments, when you find yourself spying a “burning bush,” pause and take a deep breath. Don’t breeze past whatever it is. Pay attention to what is happening, maybe make some notes in your phone and take some time to reflect on what seems out of sync. You never know; you might be standing on holy ground right in that moment.

This past Monday was a moment like that for a lot of us, wasn’t it? We had a great gathering of folks from preschool and church and Grace Unlimited over here on the east side of the church to view the total solar eclipse. We even had one person drive from Minneapolis just to experience some Hoosier Hospitality. I had never seen a total eclipse, so I had no idea what to expect, and the day was going along pretty normally with music and snow cones and popcorn and, of course, moon pies. Kids were playing, people were visiting, the bounce houses were full. Normal Mount Pleasant partying day, right? And then Jess got on the microphone and said we were just a few minutes out from totality, that we were going to shut everything down so we could watch the eclipse. And, friends, I hope you saw it because it was amazing. I have never seen anything like it. And as the silence settled in, as this out of the ordinary event occurred, I was once again amazed at the beauty and the precision of God’s creation. “The heavens declare the glory of God,” indeed (cf. Psalm 19:1). It was an unusual moment when we stopped what we were doing and paid attention. But that’s what we should do. When something out of the ordinary happens, pay attention. It might be a burning bush.

Second thing: listen to God’s voice instead of your inner critic. I’m pretty sure I know how I would have responded to God’s voice at the burning bush. “You don’t have the qualifications. You don’t have the abilities. You can’t do what God is asking you to do. People don’t respect you and the Pharaoh won’t listen to you. You’re unqualified.” I have a very loud inner critic and he is very good at what he does. Yours many not be as loud as mine, but I’ll bet he or she is there, playing that mental loop of negative self-talk in your head. And that inner critic voice can easily drown out God’s voice.

I shared with you a couple of weeks ago that I have this anxiety every year when Grace Gala approaches. I love doing it, and yet my inner critic is pretty loud in the days leading up to it. So Grace Gala, as you know, took place the last couple of days, and once again I got to be a buddy. And the evenings were wonderful. We say every year that it’s the best party ever, and it truly is. There is no pretense, there is no one trying to prove anything, the evenings are just pure joy. I have learned to push through the anxiety and listen to God’s call because God’s call is always for the best. Like Moses, we can choose to trust God’s voice, every time, knowing that he always leads us to freedom.

Then, the third thing: don’t be afraid to ask God your burning questions (“burning” questions, see what I did there?). You can ask God your hardest questions because he can handle them. Moses takes the time to ask God everything he wants to ask, including what God’s name is. If people were to ask, who am I supposed to say called me, sent me? I can’t say, “Burning Bush God.” What is your name? In many ancient faiths, knowing a god’s name supposedly gave a person power over the god (Imes, Bearing God’s Name, pg. 27), but that’s not the case here. God freely shares his name, because his name is a reminder of his presence. “I am”…I am with you and I will be with you, wherever I send you, you can count on it. God patiently answers all of Moses’ questions. He does not shame Moses, he does not evade Moses, he does not curse Moses or tell him to keep quiet. The only time we are told God gets angry with Moses is when Moses runs out of excuses and just says, “Send someone else” (cf. 4:14). Even then, God makes allowances for Moses’ fear and doubt and sends his brother Aaron along with him. God can handle anything you throw at him, so don’t be afraid to ask your questions (cf. Armstrong 58-59).

Do you believe you’re unqualified? Maybe you are, but as the saying goes, God does not call the qualified, he qualifies the called. Yes, that’s a cliche, but it’s a cliche and repeated so often because it’s true. It’s what happened with Moses. There are good reasons for God to call Moses, but the biggest reason God used him is because he was willing (eventually). And Moses did leave the burning bush, go back to Egypt and lead them out of slavery and out toward the promised land, the land of milk and honey (cf. Exodus 3:17). If God is calling you, your current qualifications don’t matter. God will give you what you need to do what he has called you to do. And he may be preparing you even now. God called me to be a pastor long before I said yes, and since I hadn’t yet said yes, he used things in my life to prepare me, to qualify me. I got involved in speech team in high school and in college. My first major in college was a disappointment, not what I wanted, so I ended up majoring in Speech Communication, which is a useless degree unless you’re going to teach—or preach. And he led me to InterVarsity where I became president of the chapter for three years, allowing the adult leadership to pour into my life. Then, about midway through my senior year, the thought of seminary dropped into my mind. God qualifies the called. And he will do the same for you. If he has called you to it, he will give you what you need, just as he did for Moses. Let’s pray.