Exodus 3:1-15
Do you know what holy ground feels like? What it really feels like to the touch? Between your toes? Do you know what holy ground feels like?
To find out, you have to take your shoes off.
The Old Testament reading for today is the familiar story of Moses and the burning bush. Moses is tending sheep near Mount Sinai when he hears the voice of his God speak to him. Moses turns aside and says, “Here I am.” As he draws close to the presence of God he removes his sandals because he is standing on holy ground.
Moses’ act of removing his sandals is often described as an act of reverence. It can also be interpreted as an act of receptivity or openness before God. Moses removes even just the barrier of his soles between himself and God’s holiness. Reverence or receptivity? That seems to be sort of a chicken and egg question. Both are reactions to the near presence of God. I want to focus on the idea of reception… of being open to God.
One commentator (Anathea Portier-Young) has written: "When Moses removes his sandals he will find himself at journey’s end, at the true goal of every journey. He will find his true ground and he will know where he stands."
He will know where he stands. In the presence of God. As he removes his sandals he knows he is in the presence of God.
It’s the knowing that’s really important. Moses KNOWS himself in the presence of God. Right there in that particular place. At that specific bush near the base of Mount Sinai.
Last week I talked about was to describe what it really means that Jesus is the Son of God. What does it mean that the man Jesus was and is the Son of the Living God. This poem is one answer to that question. It’s a Christmas poem. For that time of year when we think about God incarnate.
I shall seek no longer for the burning bush,
All bushes are ablaze
And I will not hasten to depart
From daily grief and gladness
To climb a holy mountain;
Every mountain now is sacred,
Each marketplace, and every home,
All, all are blessed
Since God has pitched a tent among us.
Now on our earth are to be found
The footprints of the Word made flesh
Who walked with us in wind and rain
And under sun and stars,
In joy and sorrow,
Born of Mary, watched over by Joseph,
Eating and drinking, living and loving.
Dying yet living, the Word is made flesh
And all the earth,
And each of us,
Is holy ground
Where we must slip our sandals off
And walk softly, filled with wonder.
(Veronica Koperski)
All bushes burn now. That’s what Jesus means. All mountains are sacred. All ground is holy. God is with us everywhere now.
So what gets in the way of our KNOWING that God is with us? What blocks our knowledge of God’s presence? How do we increase our openness or receptivity to God’s presence?
Over the centuries many people have found that adopting a spiritual practice helps open them to an awareness of God’s presence. All sorts of things can be spiritual practices. In last year’s adult education class, we used a curriculum called “Confirm, not Conform.” It encouraged us all to take on a spiritual practice. They said that a personal, spiritual practice should be realistic, but also a stretch. It has to be physically doable for you and realistic within the parameters of your life. But it should also be a stretch. Not something you’re already doing. Not something that “comes naturally,” but something that stretches you a bit. I would add one more component. It needs to be regular. Daily, or at least frequently. On a regular or recurring basis.
I’ve been rereading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, “An Altar in the World.” I quoted a portion in this week’s e-vangelist. Here’s another excerpt from the same chapter.
While I am sure someone else has already thought of it, I would like to introduce the spiritual practice of going barefoot. This practice requires no props. You do not even have to be religious to do it, but if you are, then here is the scriptural warrant for it: “Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” That is what the Almighty said to Moses after Moses turned aside from tending sheep to investigate a blazing bush that was not burned up.
If you have visited Saint Catherine’s monastery in the Sinai, then you have likely paid a visit to the legendary descendant of that bush. When I went, I was asked to remove my sandals before I entered the Chapel of the Burning Bush….
But you do not need to go to the Sinai desert to engage the practice of going barefoot. Just choose a place outdoors that you are willing encounter in the flesh without your customary cushion and protection—a mossy knoll, if you are a beginner, or a rocky streambed, if you are not. Take off your shoes and feel the earth under your feet, as if the ground on which you are standing really is holy ground. Let it please you. Let it hurt you a little. Feel how the world really feels when you do not strap little tanks on your feet to shield you from the way things really are.
[She is speaking metaphorically, of course, but also very literally. She really is suggesting going barefoot as a spiritual practice.]
It will help if you do not expect God to speak to you. Just give your full attention to where you are, for once. Walk as if your life depended on it, placing your heel before your toes and getting a sense of just how much pressure you put on the grass, the clover—watch out for the honeybee!—the slick rive stones, the silted streambed, the red clay, the pine bark on the woodland path, the black earth of the vegetable garden. As you press down on these things, can you feel them pressing back? They have been around so much longer than you have, most of them. You are the new kid on the block….
You may have to handle your anxiety about being seen walking… with no shoes on, but even that can be revelatory. Why are you so afraid of what people may think about you? Since when did looking good become your god? If you like, you may take your mind off this by giving a thought to people who go barefoot because they have no shoes….
Done property, the spiritual practice of going barefoot can take you halfway around the world and wake you up to your own place in the world all at the same time. It can lead you to love God with your whole self, and your neighbor as yourself, without leaving your backyard. Jut do it, and the doing will teach you what you need to live.
If you were in the adult class last year you may remember that one of my spiritual practices is to buy one extra item every time I go to the grocery store. At least one thing that is not on my list to contribute to the food pantry. And as I focus on that simple practice of compassion, God is with me. The Jewell becomes holy ground where I am aware that I am in the presence of God.
If you are a walker, walking itself can be a practice of prayer or mindfulness. But here’s another suggestion. Pray for the people in each house you walk past. Pray for the people who cannot afford a new roof. Pray for the people in the house where you often hear voices raised. Pray for the people in the house that looks absolutely perfect on the outside, but seems so lifeless. As you pray, the sidewalks of your neighborhood will become holy ground, where God walks beside you.
The curriculum suggested a possible practice. Give up one premium coffee a week. Or one single-malt scotch a week. And give the money you save to some charity. I’d suggest a variation. Whether or not you decide to give anything up, figure out how much you spend throughout the week on Starbucks or scotch and give an equivalent amount away. Match the luxury you give yourself with money you give to others. For a while I wrote a check to various charities each month equivalent to the amount of my cable bill. That bill irks me every month, yet I can’t quite seem to give it up. I got on too many mailing lists doing that, so I’ve changed my approach, but I think the idea is a good one.
Barbara Brown Taylor talks about other spiritual practices. She has a chapter called, “The Practice of Saying No.” It’s about keeping Sabbath. Another one is called “The Practice of Pronouncing Blessing.” Church folks tend to think that only the paid professionals are qualified to pronounce blessings. But that is not the Biblical tradition. Try pronouncing blessings, maybe just one a day for starters. Actually pronouncing a blessing. And see if the ground on which you stand doesn’t feel holy.
All times and place are holy, full of the presence of God. We just need to practice being open and receptive. So that we will know the ground on which we walk is holy ground.
