The Burning Bush in my Backyard

Moses saw a burning bush. So do I. I have a burning bush in my backyard.  Its botanical name is Euonymus alatus, but it is commonly called a Burning Bush or a Winged Spindle. It is distinctive because of its square-looking branches and its bright red leaves in the autumn. When all other leaves in my yard are either brown or down, this bush is burning bright.

That brightness is what caught my attention recently. After strong winds and a powerful leaf blower removed all the leaves from my other trees and plants, this bush clung to most of hers. In my imagination it exhibited the characteristic of perseverance. It symbolizes for me an eternal flame.  

Moses’ burning bush was on the slope of the mountain of God, a peak holy to the religion of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian. At the time Moses was tending his father-in-law's sheep. He had a borrowed flock and a borrowed religion. On that day he took a moment to lean upon his staff for short break. After all, he was eighty years old. He deserved a short rest. 

That is when he noticed a fire that did not go out. Who knows how many years that bush had been burning with the fire of God? Had it been burning ever since he fled from Egypt to escape the executioner? Had it been calling Moses’ name for forty years, but only now Moses had the ears to hear and the eyes to see? 

On this particular day Moses went beyond the boundaries of his daily routine. He stepped off the beaten path and took the road less traveled to “the far side of the wilderness.” That is where he noticed it. That is why he noticed it. He called it an angel of the Lord, but the word angel simply means messenger. Messengers come in all shapes and sizes. That day the message of God came in the form of a bush. 

The burning bush represents the theophanies in our lives. Like Moses we only see them when we step outside the confines of our normal lives. We go beyond the thinking of traditional society and religion. We get to the “end of our rope,” and we let go. We come to the edge of the known world, and then we take one more step ... and arrive at “the far side of the wilderness.”  

That is where God dwells. Call this divine revelation whatever you want. Moses wanted to know this deity’s name, but the Messenger of the bush would not provide one. The Divine would not be labeled. The voice from the bush simply responded, “I am that I am.” From that enigmatic statement the Jews have come to revere the unnamable name of the Tetragrammaton, made up of four Hebrew consonants.    

The burning bush is one of the holiest stories of Scripture. But it is not just an experience of an ancient biblical patriarch. It can be the story of our lives. The burning bush may be experienced at some sacred site, or it may be in our own backyard. As Browning so eloquently wrote: “Earth's crammed with heaven, / And every common bush afire with God, / But only he who sees takes off his shoes; / The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” 

It is long past blackberry picking season here in New Hampshire. It is even past the fall foliage season. The lowland leaf-peepers have all gone home, awaiting the first snow and open ski slopes. At this time of year – and life - it takes a careful eye to see the fire of God in the landscape of our lives. Sometimes – like it was with Moses - it is only in the autumn of life that we are able to spot our burning bush.  When we glimpse it, may we have the wisdom to take off our shoes, for this is holy ground.