By Minister S. Emmanuel Epps, preached at Earth Ministry’s 16th Annual Celebration of St. Francis: Creation-Care Sermon Contest on October 2, 2010.
And it reads, “When the Lord saw him coming over to look at it more closely, God called out to him from the bush, “Moses! Moses!” He answered, “Here I am.” God said, “Come no nearer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground (Exodus 3:1 5).”
Beloved, I would like to engage your hearts and minds for the next few moments from the subject, “Earth’s Answer To A Curious Journey.”
Beloved, over the centuries, many of a poetic tongue have poured the sweetest words upon the dry page when referencing nature’s wonders. Whose eyes did not gently close as Robert Burns chose a “red, red rose” as an apt comparison for Love’s heartfelt expression? Did not a hopeful smile soften the countenance as Victor Hugo surmised that torn love-letters become butterflies? William Bryant’s “brooks [sending] up a cheerful tune” and Marlowe’s “hills and valleys, dales and fields, woods, or steepy mountain yields” often swept our momentary stress under the infinite rug of nature’s scenery. What else, as he peeked into the portfolio of God, could that Swede Carl Boberg have declared but, “O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the works thy hands have made.”
Nearly sixty million square miles of land back float upon 140 million square miles of water. The Amazon forests, in their green lingerie, seduce the rains and the birds make landing strips and nests upon the biceps of branches. The majestic redwoods of Oregon tickling the sky’s feet and the giant tortoise, whose days outnumber a generation and then some, help form the notes of sights, sounds, and smells of our solar system’s only known symphony of life. While thousands upon tens of thousands of years slipped into an eternal past, rivers still ran, and winds still swayed, and plants still grew and beasts still roamed. The sugar of Brazil crystallized, the gold of China formed, the diamonds of Botswana sparkled, the crude oil of Saudi Arabia bubbled, and the timber of India stood before mankind even inhaled its first breath. It is no wonder, armed with a compass, a map, and a sense of adventure, many an explorer like Magellan and Estevanico sought front row seats to nature’s performance.
Who would not be curious about seeing what more this world could offer to us, its youngest residents? Perhaps, prestige and wealth, energy and health are tucked beneath the folds of the earth’s skin. And so for centuries, fueled by a deep curiosity, humankind has been on a quest to discover all the blessed gifts of this earth – a curiosity no less intense and naïve than that of Moses trekking toward a bush – a burning bush – yet a bush nonetheless.
Of all the media through which to speak, of all the forms from which to project that resonant voice, the Ancient of Days employs a bush. Though perhaps its stature was less imposing than the giant Sequoias of California or less exotic than the Monkey Puzzle trees of Chile, Moses, on anticipating toes, moves toward it. Perhaps, Moses was fascinated as a fiery coat adorned the bush, yet its figure remained intact. Perhaps, Moses was intrigued as the flames crackled like a never-ending standing ovation, yet the leaves remained unmoved. Each step he took, away from his ordinary task, to “look at [this burning bush] more closely” seemed rooted in a profound curiosity, a hypnotizing inquisitiveness. Like Moses, it seems all of humankind is rustled from its commonplace by nature’s wonders. There is something extraordinary about the peaks of Mount Everest and the breadth of the Grand Canyon, the hues of the Northern Polar Lights and the length of the Great Barrier Reef that awakens our curiosity.
And over the millennia, with that curiosity we have brought our bulldozers and microscopes, our saws and telescopes. With our curiosity, we have scraped and axed, scooped and bored in a quest to ascertain the workings of nature’s items. What pending plans, if any, Moses had for that bush – perhaps a tourist attraction or an energy source for cooking or warmth – we shall never know. But as the winds of curiosity blew into the sails of his movement, drawing him ever closer to that bush’s bizarre appearance, Moses found himself situated unknowingly upon some hallowed terrain. Isn’t this so often the destiny of humanity’s curiosity, boundless and zealous, and recklessly free? Many a wooden finger of the forest, many a darting creature of the sea, many a feathered floater on the air, have been toppled and snagged and permanently grounded by man’s unyielding curiosity.
Can this our curiosity ever be truly restrained? How long before Florida’s Everglades and the Galapagos Islands are stomped to death by visitor’s feet and the weight of condominiums and shopping malls? How long before oil wells dot the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge? How many more species of fish or fowl will have their names placed upon endangered lists? Our era is so curious to know how deep we can drill, how much can we build upon the lakefront, how much can we extract from the ground’s grasp and the sea’s belly. One might say, the bush burns unusually – yet it is “just a bush” nonetheless.
But what if this is not so simply the case. What if that bush had been planted by a tender touch to welcome a returning soldier to his nearly-forgotten native land? What if that bush had been a shaded resort for the tiniest of overworked insects? What if that bush had survived the crispiest droughts and the most torrential floods? What if that bush had once been passed over by the flight of a screeching falcon or shaken by the tremors of a herd of Wooly Mammoths? Could the possibilities of such an interesting past have sobered Moses’ flippant trek toward this bush? Does the history of our glorious planet prevent us from destroying the forests, dirtying the waters, or polluting the air?
How easily we forget, we breathe the same air Martin Luther King, Jr. breathed to march to Montgomery and Socrates breathed to persuade in Greece. We wade in the same waters in which American slaves lost their bloodhound-chasing scent and young sailors sank in defense of our liberties. The sky’s starry freckles still twinkle and the dawn’s sunrise still knocks upon the hushing eyelids at no expense. And yet nature does not ask for business-repressing legislation or to be the constant center of theological debates. Sermons about it may hardly be given room on the bloated liturgical calendar. Just a mere act of recognition, a small gesture of respect is all our earth requests. Moses, “remove the sandals from your feet…”
Recycling may seem miniscule and reducing emissions unremarkable. Commuting on a bicycle or carpooling in a hybrid vehicle may seem lackluster. Harnessing the energy of the sun, the winds, and the waves may seem modestly adequate. But it is no less within our power than Moses’ ability to remove his sandals. Only that which is within our reach and only that within our easiest efforts is insisted of us by our planet for its preservation. And for such graciousness, our curiosity, however heedless and negligent, will once again be met by unimaginable answers.
As the searing lightning taught Benjamin Franklin about electricity and the apple tree whispered the secrets of gravity to Isaac Newton and Walden Pond unveiled the joy of a simple life to Henry Thoreau and the mockingbirds of James Island tutored Darwin on the origin of species, so shall the earth speak to each of us and satisfy our wayward curiosity. And we will be made keenly aware that we mine not in mountains but memorials, we hunt not in fields but a sanctuary, we destroy not a landscape but a treasured temple, and we trek no longer toward merely a bush but we stand now on holy ground – yes, holy ground!
It is where something spectacular unfolds. It is where one’s mission is clarified, where one’s weariness is relieved, and where one’s enlightenment is attained. What else could one say that sees the stars and hears the rolling thunder and the power throughout the universe displayed? What response may I utter “when through the woods and forest glades I wander, and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees; When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur, and hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze” but “then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee; How great Thou art, how great Thou art!”