“Be Seen With God,” a sermon preached by Rev. Sarah Henkel
August 30, 2026 - Otisville-Mt. Hope Presbyterian Church
How many of you have seen the 10 Commandments starring Charlton Heston? I
rewatched the scene of Moses’ encounter with God in the burning bush this week. In it
Heston, playing Moses, stands at a distance from a large leafless bush with a glowing orb
of light around it. The bush speaks in a loud, booming voice commanding Moses to go
and help set his people - the Israelites - free from bondage under the Egyptians. It’s
supposed to be a very serious scene in the film but I found myself giggling a little. The
special effects are pretty terrible. The spindly bush hardly seems inspiring of the
reverence and awe that Heston as Moses plays out.
And then I wondered...maybe we should laugh a little at this scene? A bush is a funny,
small thing to choose to appear in as the Creator of the universe, right? I know the
desert isn’t exactly full of flora to choose from but there are massive rocks. Moses was,
after all, right next to the Mountain of God. There’s lightning or big storm clouds. God
uses a pillar of fire to lead the Israelites out of Egypt later on in this story.
But not this time. This time God speaks through a shrub. A shrub that is burning but,
despite its small size, doesn’t seem to burn up, even in the long period of time over
which Moses observes it as his herd slowly moves past it. Eventually Moses decides he
has to see what’s going on. God sees that the ploy caught Moses’ attention and, once
he gets close enough, God begins to speak to Moses.
Moses is initially cooperative and respectful in this encounter. He says, Here I am, when
God reveals that it is God speaking from the bush. Moses removes his shoes as asked
and hides his face respectfully. But his tone shifts pretty quickly from deference to
debate. Moses argues and tests God's choice to call him at every turn. Who am I?
Moses asks. Why would they listen to me? What could I possibly say to them so that
they would trust me? Did I mention I stutter? So there Moses is out in the wilderness
arguing back and forth with a bush about whether he is worthy to be sent to deliver the
Israelites from bondage. His sheep are kind of looking at him quizzically as they chew
their cud. Our shepherd has lost it, they think...if sheep think like that.
In the swirl of Moses’ anxious questions, God’s voice responds calmly, assuring Moses
that he was chosen intentionally, assuring Moses that God will be present with him,
giving Moses sign after sign that Moses can do what God is asking of him.
But besides speaking words of comfort and assurance, God’s shrubby shape itself
proclaims all the confidence that Moses really needs. God visually expresses that being
small, humble, and low to the ground is no barrier to God’s indwelling; in fact it is God’s
chosen indwelling. It’s like God is saying, If I can speak through a bush, I can certainly
speak through you, Moses. What a great sense of humor God has. God chooses the
bush to make a point about how and through whom God chooses to act. As 1
Corinthians chapter 1 insists: God chose the foolish and not the wise, God chose the
weak and not the strong, God chose the low and the despised.
This is profoundly good and comforting news as individuals listening to how God is
calling us to be and act in this world. This story reminds us that God uses us just as we
are - stuttering, bumbling, confused as we may be. Whatever other stories we have
heard about ourselves or even, perhaps told ourselves, about being too small or useless
or unworthy, we can dismiss outright as lies. God uses us; God sends us to bring care
and relief to others who are suffering.
Adding a little bit of humor to this reading of God appearing to Moses in the burning
bush opens our hearts to the warmth and tenderness of this exchange. The Creator of
the Universe gets really small to draw near to Moses, to say to Moses that God has
heard, seen, and knows the suffering of the Israelite people, and to assure Moses that
God will go with Moses on this journey to freedom. This is how this incredible story of
liberation begins with God getting small and drawing near. What a funny thing for
something, someone so big to become so small. What a holy thing to witness, as Moses
did and as we have or will witness if our eyes are attuned...
But this story is not just about comfort and assurance. As followers of this God who
chooses to become small with us, it also holds challenge. We can be reassured that God
loves and calls us no matter our limitations. But now where do we go? How do we
follow? Today’s Scripture points us in the direction: be like God appearing in the bush -
look low, think small, direct our care to the places where God’s people are being pushed
down by the weight of this world. This story of God’s call to Moses tells us that God is
already there, God has already drawn near to the cries of suffering. We are called to
meet God there on that holy ground. And you may not have to go far...in fact that holy
ground may come to you.
The holy ground appeared in my house one Christmas Eve as a child. It wasn’t Santa, I’ll
say that out front. But on that topic, as a Pastor’s kid, I could get pretty grumpy about
how little attention my parents paid to the t.v. version of Christmas. Everyone was
stressed out, especially my Dad as he prepared for multiple worship services and a live
nativity scene that usually enlisted a newborn baby from the congregation to play the
part of Jesus. At that time our congregation membership was already dwindling and
there was no newborn baby that year. My doll Beatrice would suffice.
Except we didn’t end up needing Beatrice after all. On Christmas Eve that year my dad
received a call from a woman who did not have a home and was in urgent need of
assistance. She had recently given birth and was looking for a place to live away from an
abusive partner. Our church jumped into action: congregation members gathered
clothes for this woman and the baby, my dad used dedicated funds from the church to
book her a hotel room for a couple nights, and connected her to services to make the
future plan...and he also asked if she might be interested in being Mary and her little
girl, Jesus in that evening's service. No pressure. She said yes. And so she and her baby
joined us for dinner at our home before the Christmas Eve service. I remember that
meal being slow and unhurried. I remember that meal being holy. God was present,
small and vulnerable and drawing everyone into the work of care and making a way to
freedom for her.
What a funny thing for something, someone so big to become so small. What endless
comfort and clarity of call is ours because God did so.