Directions to Pilgrim Point Camp from Interstate 94
Outdoor Ministries Association UCC
The Minnesota Conference's Announcement
on the future of Pilgrim Point Camp
Pilgrim Point Camp
A Ministry of the Minnesota Conference
of the
United Church of Christ
Reverend Christopher Ross
Pilgrim Point Camp 50th Anniversary Worship
July 19, 2009
Pilgrim Point Camp
Alexandria, MN
Exodus 3:1-6
Moses and the Burning Bush
1 Now Moses was tending the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, and he led the flock to the far side of the desert and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. 2 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. 3 So Moses thought, "I will go over and see this strange sight—why the bush does not burn up." 4 When the LORD
saw that he had gone over to look, God called to him from within the bush,
"Moses! Moses!"
And Moses said, "Here I am."
5 "Do not come any closer," God said. "Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground." 6 Then he said, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.
Is it possible, I wonder, in our culture to hear or read this passage of Moses at the burning bush and not envision a Charlton Heston movie scene? I’m pretty sure that this story of the bush is one of those images burned (pun intended) into our memories from Sunday school--can’t we almost hear the voice of God calling out, “Moses! Moses!” I find it interesting, though, that Moses hears God’s voice only after he approaches the bush. What catches his attention is not some divine voice (at first), but this novelty of a bush on fire that doesn’t burn. In other words, Moses checks out the burning bush because he’s curious. We hear, “Then Moses said, ‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up’” (3:3). This means, of course, that not only does Moses show a healthy dose of intellectual curiosity, but that he talks to himself. Which, when combined with seeing a burning bush that is not really on fire, not to mention the voice he hears from God coming out of the bush, might place the whole story in a questionable light.
Many of us probably know this passage well. I mentioned that it seems to find its way into every Sunday school child’s memory, and for good reason. Of course, on the surface, it is a call story, but no ordinary one at that--even within the rest of the Hebrew Scriptures. This is the story of God’s call to Moses, the one through whom God would liberate God’s people, the one who spoke to pharaoh to “let my people go,” the one who has been called the “fountainhead of Hebrew prophecy.” But that’s not all. Moses, we know, will also serve as the one to receive the Ten Commandments from God on behalf of the people, so in the background loom larger questions of mediating and renewing a covenant, one that we know will be broken again and again.
And mysteriously--as part of the setting of this divine call to Moses--God informs Moses that he is standing on holy ground. “’Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground’” (3:5). [Remove shoes?]
What makes ground holy, I wonder? If we affirm what the Psalmist tells us that the “earth [all the earth] is the LORD’s and all that is in it, the world [the whole world], and those who live in it” (24:1), then how can we possibly speak of some ground being holy, thereby implying that it is somehow more holy than other patches of the earth?
At the inaugural event of Churches Uniting in Christ held in Memphis, TN on Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend in 2002, I remember UCC President and General Minister, the Rev. John Thomas, rising to speak on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel. As soon as he stood up, he took off his shoes to mark that place--that spot where the Rev. Dr. King was shot--as holy ground. What made that space sacred was, of course, that a modern-day prophet had been martyred there for bringing a message of justice and peace.
What then I think makes a piece of land holy in this way and in the way our passage from the Book of Exodus speaks of it is not merely God’s presence--indeed the Psalmist even asks God, “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there” (139:7-8). Rather, what I believe sets holy ground apart is a connection to the prophetic vocation, a link to the calling to serve God by speaking truth to power.
As you might imagine, our theme today of holy ground was not arrived at by accident. Pilgrim Point is sacred space. I cannot claim to have heard God’s call to ministry here, but for me that happened at another church camp in the United Church of Christ, Camp Mo-Val outside of Union, Missouri. I am among the multitude who have sensed God’s vocation at a church camp, a multitude that no doubt includes all kinds of people who have been part of the ministry of Pilgrim Point for the last fifty years. What makes this ground holy is not that it is owned by a religious organization (though I am grateful for the support of the wider church), not even that it is part of God’s natural world (although, that no doubt helps), but that people have come here and heard God’s call. Children and adults may not have seen a burning bush, but they have sensed God’s presence in such a way that it made--and makes--a difference for them. Folks have come here and understood more fully Jesus’ summing up of our religious obligation to love God with everything we’ve got, which means also to love our neighbors as ourselves. Make no mistake, we stand on holy ground today. Pilgrim Point is sacred space.
I like to wonder if Moses had any idea of the host of questions and challenges that stretched beyond that burning bush as he approached out of curiosity. Did he have any idea the can of worms he was opening? Not just the immediate challenge of liberating the Hebrew slaves, but the covenant that he would mediate on Mount Sinai (a covenant that would be broken and renewed so many times over), and how these two themes--that of prophetic action and living in covenant--would co-exist alongside each other in the centuries to come and how all that would be played out when the people were threatened with Exile and separation from their beloved land and sacred space? How does speaking truth to power work in the midst of that covenantal framework? Those later prophets were called to speak and act because of the covenant, not in spite of it. They raised their voices to the powers-that-be not in order to break covenant, but to honor it, to warn of the devastation the people would experience, the separation from God they would sense, if sent into exile, if cut off from their holy land, the very means by which they came to know the covenant in the first place. Sacred space mattered to them, because they understood it as integral to the covenant.
I am amazed by how many of these same questions continue to dog us--of covenant, of prophetic calling, of God’s mysterious presence, of holy ground, of Exile. I also wonder how God’s covenanted people will respond in this time and place. God’s people of the Hebrew Scriptures survived the loss of their land, and we will too--if it comes to that. But what will we have lost, exactly--what pieces of our spiritual selves, as families, as churches, as individuals, as a Conference--might be lost forever? We know, without a doubt, that God is with us wherever we go, but does that mean we’re ready--does it mean we should be ready--to leave behind this sacred land?
As I said, I wonder how God’s covenanted people will respond in this time and place.