On fire for Jesus, burning bush edition

Flame On: Burning Bush

This week I've been reading in Exodus and one verse has stuck with me throughout the week.

There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in flames of fire from within a bush. Moses saw that though the bush was on fire it did not burn up. So Moses thought, “I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up." ~Exodus 3:2-3

Here's are the thoughts I've had:

First, apparently bushes on fire are not interesting. Good to know. BUT bushes on fire that aren't being destroyed? Very interesting and worth closer inspection.

Second, if we step back and look at this symbolically, what got Moses' attention was a situation that should have caused destruction didn't. When I think about lives of Christians that have impressed me, I see a common thread of surviving and even thriving despite cruelly destructive pressures--illness, death, injustice, betrayal, etc. Like Moses' burning bush, this is a strange sight and I've got to know what's going on.

Third, if we step back yet again, most of us don't want to be on fire for Jesus this way. When on fire of Jesus means being enthusiastic, "passionate", or pumped, we're ok with that. We question ourselves when our feelings aren't dramatic. Dramatic feelings are good! we think. If being on fire for Jesus means appearing to be caught in a life threatening situation that should, absent a miracle, consume us, we're all ready to check out. I know I am.

On fire for Jesus as an emotional ploy seems like something we can manufacture with enough bass, hand waving, and repeated lyrics. MOAR COWBELL!! On fire for Jesus as a supernatural consuming but not-consumed event--that is outside of ourselves. That is something else. And whatever it is, like Moses' burning bush it is a strange yet attractive sight. I think we need more of Moses' burning bush.

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Paper cut by Isaac Brynjegard-Bialik

The slow grace of listening

One of the most difficult things about this summer has been the addition of several appointments a week to the schedule as well as a new membership to the YMCA. The appointments we just had to be at. The Y, well, since we're paying, we'd better go. And all of a sudden, our lives were hurried in a way that we usually haven't been.

Other people have written about this, I'm sure, but I think hurry lives on the opposite end of grace. And I particularly believe this when I think about the power of unhurried listening. This week I had a conversation with an old friend and gifted listener. It's not that he never said anything, in fact, he talked a lot. But he listened, and he asked follow up questions that were insightful and demonstrated loving care without having to say, "I lovingly care for you." And some of those follow up questions skipped back two or three topics because he had been listening with his heart and attuned to the Spirit.

The slow grace of listening is gracious precisely because listening can only occur with the investment of time. When we listen, we are handing over precious moments of our lives to another person. And when we listen, we embody the message that this other person's life, thoughts, and interests matter. Whatever would count as the spiritual opposite of fastfood and facebook, that's what listening is.

Listening is something anyone, believer or non-believer, can do. But listeners who walk in the Christ life have a bonus resource. First, we can ask for supernatural discernment to hear the heart behind the words. And second, we can ask for supernatural guidance for how and when to respond.

This world is all about love. I love chocolate cake. I love One Direction. I love community service. I love my family. All you need is love. I love you. But when it comes to this costly way of loving--listening--we're not so all about that. So the third thing that Christ in us accomplishes is that we have a model and resource for sacrificial loving.