Now Moses was keeping the flock of Jethro his father-in-law, the priest of Midian; and he led the flock to the back of the wilderness, and came to the mountain of God, unto Horeb.
And the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.
And Moses said, I will turn aside now, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.
And when the Lord saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I.
And He said, Draw not nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.
Moreover He said, I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face; for he was afraid to look upon God.
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the exceeding greatness of the power may be of God, and not from ourselves;
we are pressed on every side, yet not straitened; perplexed, yet not unto despair;
pursued, yet not forsaken; smitten down, yet not destroyed;
always bearing about in the body the dying of Jesus, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our body.
For we who live are always delivered unto death for Jesus’ sake, that the life also of Jesus may be manifested in our mortal flesh.
So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
Near the hall where we meet in New York, there is a Jewish synagogue. You know there are many Jewish synagogues in New York City. On the wall of that synagogue there are three pictures: one is the two tables of the law, the other is a golden candlestick, and the third is a burning bush.
To the Jewish people, to Judaism, these are the three most important symbols. Nearby, another synagogue was being finished. Above its entrance were the tables of the law. In other words, to them, you enter into Judaism by the way of law. I do not know whether that is the best way.
If you have ever been to New York, you know that near Columbia University there is the largest Jewish theological seminary in the world. Above the entrance of that theological seminary is a picture of the burning bush.
To the Jews, to their theology, the burning bush is most significant. Now, I do not know how much they understand the spiritual significance of that burning bush, but at least they know that, to their theology, the burning bush is foundational.
Dear friends, we know that all the things in the Old Testament are types. They are for our admonition. The reality is Christ.
We need to fellowship together tonight concerning the spiritual significance and application of the burning bush. If, to the Jewish people, the burning bush is so important—and it is only outward to them—how much more must it be important to us, who are the real children of God?
Before we look into the spiritual meaning of the burning bush, we have to go back a little. I suppose you are all familiar with the story of Moses, so I will say only this much: Moses was brought up in the Egyptian palace.
Yet he was nursed by his mother. Even though the time of his nursing was short, certainly his mother, perhaps with the help of his father, instilled into his little mind that he was one prepared by God to deliver His oppressed people.
In that little one, there was the consciousness that he belonged to God in a very special way and that he had a divine commission, a divine appointment. Even though for forty years he grew up in the palace of Egypt, as the adopted son of Pharaoh’s daughter, and learned all the learning of Egypt, he never forgot that he had a divine appointment.
He was mighty in words and in deeds. Tradition tells us that he was a great general at that time. He had every hope of becoming the ruler of the Egyptian Empire, because his adopted mother was a great queen.
Yet, with all the luxury, all the ease, all the position, all the power, all the learning, all the success and achievement in the royal palace, he never forgot that he had a divine appointment.
When he was forty years old, he could not withhold himself any longer. The thought of divine appointment grew steadily, year after year, until it increased to such a degree that he could not hold back anymore.
He thought that he must go out and visit his own brethren. He went out, and you know the story. He saw a Hebrew oppressed by an Egyptian. So he looked to his right and to his left. He saw nobody there, and he was mighty in deeds. So he killed that Egyptian and buried him in the sand.
The next day he went out again to see his brethren. He saw two Hebrews fighting against each other. Now he was mighty in words, so he stepped in and tried to reconcile these two brothers. He thought that surely they understood, surely they knew that he was a man sent by God, surely they would listen to him, and surely they would follow him.
But, to his surprise, they pushed him aside, rejecting him as their leader. The news of his killing an Egyptian reached the ear of Pharaoh, and Moses fled into the wilderness.
He went to Midian and became a shepherd. Now, if you know anything of Egyptian background, you know that, to the Egyptians, the profession of a shepherd was the lowest of all professions. The Egyptians would not become shepherds or cattlemen. They would take other professions, but they left such work to foreigners.
You remember the story of Jacob and his sons. When they entered Egypt, Joseph warned them and told them that shepherds were an abomination to the Egyptians. They looked down upon shepherds.
Now Moses was brought up in the royal palace. Somehow, no matter what, if you have been exposed to certain circumstances, environments, and ideas for forty years, your brain is washed in a certain way, even if you do not know it. We are all brainwashed one way or another.
Surely Moses was brainwashed. Someone who was destined to be a Pharaoh was now degraded to such a degree that he became a shepherd. If you knew Moses’ inward feeling, you would sympathize with him. He had fallen so low as to be a shepherd.
Well, in the very beginning it was not too bad. Why? Because he had hope. “Oh, I am a shepherd, perhaps just for a few months, and surely God will open an opportunity for me to go back and deliver my people.”
One year passed by; nothing happened. The second year, nothing happened. As the number of years increased, his hope decreased. Surely, after forty years, there was no more hope, no more interest.
Remember, Moses was eighty years old now. Of the one hundred and fifty Psalms, at least one Psalm was written by Moses: Psalm 90. Some people say Psalm 91 is also by Moses, as a continuation.
Now, if you read Psalm 90, what do you find there? Moses himself declared that the days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they are fourscore years, that is, eighty years.
In other words, in Moses’ judgment, if anyone should reach the age of eighty, he had arrived at the end. That was it. Even when one reached eighty, he said that, looking back, all that could be said was labor and vanity.
This describes the life of Moses up to that point. Moses had the best opportunity that anyone in this world could ever have. He was reared in the palace. He was at the very center of the highest civilization in the world at that time. He was in touch with the best culture of his age. He learned everything. He was mighty in word and in deed.
What more could you have? He had the best of everything, and yet he ended up with a total defeat. It was as if he said, “I am eighty now. Who am I, and what am I? What am I doing? I am a shepherd, the lowest of all professions. All my years are characterized by labor and vanity. That is all.”
In the life of Moses, that was a tragedy—a real tragedy. He came to the end of himself. The sense of divine appointment was completely lost. Even when God called him, he was not interested. He had lost all interest.
He could hardly even speak. Why? Suppose you were shut in with a few sheep for forty years. You would lose all your eloquence. The sheep could not hear your lectures, and so you would lose your skill.
He lost all his self-confidence. While he was young, he believed in himself. He believed in his divine appointment. He was a man of destiny, and he was to do a great thing for God. But now, nothing was left. Everything had come to its natural end.
But it was at that moment that God showed him a great sight: the sight of the burning bush. That vision of the burning bush was the turning point of his life, a real turning point of his life.
From tragedy to success, from defeat to victory, from vanity to purpose—the whole life of Moses afterwards was a different life. You can trace it all to this vision of the burning bush. So you see the importance and significance of that vision. The Jews understand this very much. It all begins with that burning bush.
Now, dear friends, in the wilderness nothing can grow but bushes. Because the sun is so hot in the daytime, it is a common sight in the wilderness to see a thorn bush suddenly kindle itself. Under the scorching sun, the thorn bush becomes so dry that it can ignite itself and burn out in a few minutes.
During the forty years of shepherding in the wilderness, Moses had witnessed such scenes thousands and tens of thousands of times. He must have seen them again and again, and he took no notice of them.
But that day something different happened. The bush was burning, but it was not consumed. Because this was strange, Moses said, “I will go and look at it. Why is it that the thorn bush burns but is not consumed? Why? This is not natural.”
He turned aside, and the angel of the Lord called to him from the midst of the flame in the burning bush, saying, “Moses, Moses.” Moses said, “Here am I.” The Lord said, “Take off your shoes. This is holy ground.” And the Lord declared Himself: “I am the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”
Moses hid his face because he was afraid. Now, dear friends, let me ask you a question: Did Moses know God before this vision? Do we have any record in Scripture that God appeared to him before this incident? Can you say that Moses did not know God before this incident?
Surely Moses knew God. Even while he was nursing at his mother’s breast, the very name of God must have been in the milk. It was in his blood as an Israelite. Nobody could take that out—not even the luxury of the royal court, not even all the learning of Egypt. Nothing could take away that idea of God, that belief in one God, the Creator.
Not only did he believe in God, but he knew he was called by God. How did he know? His parents told him. During the first forty years, he must have pondered this again and again. He compared the riches of Egypt with the reproach of God’s people. He weighed these two things.
It was not an easy decision, but as he weighed and weighed, he came to the conclusion that he was called by God to be afflicted with God’s people. He despised all the riches of Egypt. He not only believed in God, but he acted on his belief, and he suffered for his faith.
You cannot say Moses did not know God. In the wilderness for forty years, he was in close touch with nature, and surely he had much time to meditate. He was very close to heaven, we might say.
Yet Moses’ knowledge of God was intellectual, based upon information. He knew God, yes. He even knew God’s purpose. He even knew his place in God’s purpose. He acted upon it and suffered for God. We would say he was one who knew God very well.
But his knowledge of God was external. There is no record that God had ever appeared to him. Can it be possible that we may believe in God, may even know something of the work of God, may even work for God, and may even suffer for God, yet do not have a direct, intimate, personal, inward knowledge of God?
If this is the case, then no matter how much you know of God, how good your intention may be, or how much you try to serve God, it will end up in something God cannot accept.
But after eighty years, when Moses came to the end of himself, God appeared to him in the burning bush. This is the first record that God spoke to him directly.
God said, “I am the God of your fathers.” Yes, that is what Moses knew. He knew God was the God of his fathers: the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.
God as the God of Abraham is wonderful. Think of Abraham. He was an idol worshiper, and yet the glory of the Lord appeared to him and told him to leave everything behind and follow the Lord, going out without knowing where he was going.
God led him into Canaan and promised to give that land, flowing with milk and honey, to him. He promised him a seed. When Abraham came to the end of his natural life, everything concerning Abraham seemed impossible. Yet the God of Abraham made it possible. Oh, the God of Abraham is a wonderful God.
Moses knew God as the God of Isaac. Isaac was the child of promise, given by a miracle in the last stage of Abraham’s life. Isaac inherited all the inheritance and promise of Abraham. How good God was to Isaac.
Moses also knew God as the God of Jacob—a most marvelous God, who could turn Jacob, a supplanter, into Israel, a prince of God. That was what Moses knew: God as the God of his fathers—Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
But could he say, “God is my God, the God of Moses”? That is different. We may know God as the God of our fathers. It is a good heritage. But unless we know God as my God—in a personal, direct, inward, and special way—our life with God has not begun.
You may accumulate all the knowledge about God, and it may be good knowledge. But if you do not have a personal touch with Him, and He with you, it is all nothing. That may be the reason why Moses failed. He had everything in his natural life, but he lacked this personal knowledge.
In the wilderness, Moses received the first personal touch: “I am the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob.” In the next chapter, Moses asked, “What is Your name?” God replied, “I AM THAT I AM.” That was Moses’ God. Moses’ God was the great I AM.
Here you find God revealing Himself for the first time to Moses. It is on the basis of this revelation that the life of Moses was transformed and his future work was characterized.
What is this great sight? This great sight is composed of three parts, or three elements. First, the thorn bush. Second, the flame of fire. Third, the angel of the Lord.
These three elements combined made up the great sight. If there were only the thorn bush, it would not be a great sight. It is a very poor sight. There is nothing to look at in a thorn bush. If there were only a flame of fire, it would be terrible. If there were only the angel of the Lord, I do not know what the effect would be. But when these three elements combine, it becomes a great sight.
Let us look at them one by one. First, Moses saw a thorn bush. It is very common. What is a thorn bush?
I wonder whether there were thorn bushes in the Garden of Eden. I suspect there were not, because the Garden of Eden was a garden of pleasure. When you picked a rose, you would not be pricked. There was no sign of curse.
There must have been roses there, but no thorns. It was after man had sinned that God said the earth would be cursed and that thorns and thistles would come out of the ground.
What is a thorn? A thorn is an abnormal, arrested, abortive growth. It is a growth that has been arrested, and so it becomes a thorn. It is the result of sin. It is a sign of curse.
God took dust and formed it into the form of man. We are made of earth, and now the earth produces thorns. It means that we are all children of Adam. We are all the product of the curse. Our growth has been arrested somehow. That is what we are.
In the Bible, as I mentioned this afternoon, trees are usually used to represent mankind. When Scripture speaks of noble men, it uses noble trees. When it speaks of fallen and degraded man, the depravity of human nature, it uses the thorn bush.
You remember the Book of Judges. Gideon had seventy sons, and he had another son through a concubine. After Gideon died, the son of the concubine, Abimelech, went to his own city, Shechem, and persuaded the citizens there to support him.
He said, “Do you want seventy men to rule over you, or just one man to rule over you? Do not forget, I am your bone and your flesh.” So the men supported him. They killed all the sons of Gideon, except the youngest, Jotham, who escaped.
When they went to Shechem to crown Abimelech, Jotham heard of it. He climbed to the top of Mount Gerizim, overlooking the city, and cried aloud. He used a parable.
The trees once went forth to anoint a king over them;
and they said unto the olive tree, Reign thou over us.
But the olive tree said unto them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honor God and man, and go to wave to and fro over the trees?
And the trees said to the fig tree, Come thou, and reign over us.
But the fig tree said unto them, Should I leave my sweetness, and my good fruit, and go to wave to and fro over the trees?
And the trees said unto the vine, Come thou, and reign over us.
And the vine said unto them, Should I leave my new wine, which cheereth God and man, and go to wave to and fro over the trees?
Then said all the trees unto the bramble, Come thou, and reign over us.
And the bramble said unto the trees, If in truth ye anoint me king over you, then come and take refuge in my shadow: and if not, let fire come out of the bramble, and devour the cedars of Lebanon.
The thorn bush here represents Abimelech, a depraved person. Can a thorn bush produce fruit? You remember in Matthew that our Lord Jesus said, “Do men gather grapes of thorns?” The thorn bush does not produce fruit; it inhibits fruit.
In Matthew 13, our Lord Jesus spoke of good seed sown among thorns. The seed grew, but it never bore fruit. Why? Because all the nourishment was taken away by the thorns. The plants were choked by the thorns. Thus, the thorn bush is not fruit-producing; it is fruit-inhibiting.
Can you use a thorn bush to make furniture? Never. What is the use of a thorn bush? Can you burn it to warm yourself? Strange to say, travellers in the wilderness would not collect thorn bushes to warm themselves in the cold of the night.
In the wilderness, the daytime can be very hot, but the night can be very cold. Yet no traveller would collect thorn bushes and burn them to warm himself. Why? Because the thorn bush burns and is consumed so quickly that, before you receive warmth, it is gone.
It is of no use. There is absolutely no use for a thorn bush—except one misuse. There is only one record in Scripture of the use of thorns: when our Lord Jesus was mocked by the soldiers, they made a crown of thorns and put it on His head.
After they finished mocking Him, they took off His purple garment, but the Bible never says that they took off the crown of thorns. It remained upon Him on the cross. That is the only use you find for thorns. Is that not very revealing?
It was as if God were speaking to Moses, saying, “Moses, Moses, you are but a thorn bush.” God had to wait eighty years before He could say this to Moses. If God had said this to Moses while he was in the royal palace, Moses would not have accepted it. He considered himself a cedar of Lebanon.
A few years ago, I was in Lebanon. I purposely went to the top of the mountain. It was summer, but there were almost no cedars. Kings, nobles, and rich people throughout the centuries had cut down the cedars to build buildings and palaces.
The mountains were almost barren, except that at the top of the mountain there were, at that time, several cedars left. We took a car and drove high up the mountain. There were big cedars—sturdy, straight, and full of leaves.
Moses considered himself a cedar of Lebanon. Humanly speaking, he had every right. He was mighty in words and mighty in deeds. He learned all the learning of Egypt, and yet he had a divine appointment. What more could he want?
But God allowed him to suffer defeat after defeat. God put him in the wilderness for forty years. Not at the beginning of those forty years, because there was still hope, but God, over time, wore him out until he came to the end of himself. He was eighty years old. In his own judgment, that was the end.
When he came to the end of himself, God said to him, “Moses, you are but a thorn bush.”
We are expecting God to show us something great, spectacular, noble, and glorious, and by seeing such things we hope to become great and spectacular. But do you know there is a basic revelation that we must see? If we do not see this basic revelation, God can never use us.
A very common sight can be astonishing. Are you ready for that? You may say, “Surely God will show me something great, something really exciting.” But here you are: a thorn bush. You are good for nothing.
All you can do is hurt and harm. How much God suffers at your hand. That is all your usefulness. It is humiliating.
It took Moses eighty years to accept this verdict. Many of us have not reached that place. It may not take eighty years, but, dear friends, this is the first part of the great sight.
One day, by His grace—and this does not come suddenly—throughout the years God is working in you and in your environment. He is bringing you to the end of yourself.
When you are brought to the end of yourself, you have no more confidence in the flesh. You have no more interest in yourself. You consider yourself finished. The end. Thank God, that is where God begins.
Often I say, “Oh, I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing.” But suppose you say that I am nothing—I cannot take it.
Dear friends, are you angry because somebody says you are good for nothing? Do not be angry with me. I dare say that the Lord alone is good.
Suppose the Lord says to you, “So-and-so, you are but a thorn bush.” Can you accept it? Can you say, “Oh God, how right You are. Yes, I am but a thorn bush. I was born in sin, as David said. As Paul the apostle said, ‘In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing.’ I am good for nothing”?
There was a fire. Fire in Scripture can represent several things, but we will limit ourselves to one thing: the holiness of God.
You remember that when man sinned, God drove man out of the Garden of Eden. On the east of the garden, God set cherubim with a flaming sword. In other words, the holiness of God guarded the way.
No one can enter into the presence of God. No one can approach the tree of life. God is a consuming fire. The fire will consume completely. The holiness of God will consume anything and everything that does not meet His standard.
God is a consuming fire. If it were not for the mercy of God, we would all be consumed.
The thorn bush is just fit for the fire. You cannot put a thorn bush and fire together. Once they come together, the fire will consume the thorn bush. There will be nothing left. That is our condition. That is our situation.
Who can see God? Who can approach God? Who can dwell with God? Nobody can. If you try, you will be totally consumed. It is the holiness of God.
But thank God, fire is not only negative; it is also positive. You remember that after Solomon finished building his temple, he put a sacrifice on the altar, and fire came down from heaven and consumed the sacrifice.
What was that? Was it negative? No, it was positive. Fire can be condemnation, but it can also be acceptance. On the one hand, it can punish and consume; on the other hand, it can purify, make acceptable, and satisfy God.
The second element is fire. Ordinarily, when fire burns a bush, the bush is burned up in a few minutes. That is it. But this was a strange sight.
There was a third element. Remember, without the third element, nothing would happen. It would not be a great sight at all.
Who are we? We are a thorn bush, nothing good to look at. The holiness of God is a terrifying thing. We are good for nothing but to be consumed by the holiness of God. This is what we are in ourselves—an ugly sight.
But thank God, there is a third element: the angel of the Lord, in the flame of fire, out of the midst of the burning bush. God was in the bush, and that was the reason why the thorn bush was not consumed.
God has a special name. If you read Deuteronomy 33, you will find that He is called “He that dwelt in the bush.” The word dwelt means that He made His home in the bush.
If anybody pushed you into a thorn bush, you would be pricked by the thorns. If you hurriedly tried to get out, you would be hurt even more. Is there anyone who would make a thorn bush his home? It is too painful.
But thank God, the heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him, and yet He makes us His dwelling place. Do you think we make Him very comfortable? We must prick Him. Yet He says, “I will never leave you. You may grieve Me, but you cannot drive Me away. You may quench Me, but I will speak again.”
God has great love, mercy, and compassion. He is willing to make His home in man and woman. I think this is the love of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Because of His great love, even before the foundation of the world, before the creation of man, He had this longing in His heart. He wanted to dwell. He wanted to make man His home, and He wanted man to make Him his home—to be united together in that way.
For this purpose, He created man. He put man in the Garden of Eden and visited him. But do you think this was the full purpose of God? God made man not merely to pay him visits.
I do not know how many of you enjoy visiting your mother-in-law. You may visit her, but it is only a visit. You count the days until you leave. Now suppose you lived together with her!
Remember, dear friends, it is not God’s purpose merely to pay us visits. God created man and put him in the garden. Yes, God visited him, but God’s original thought was not merely this.
He hoped that man would eat the fruit of the tree of life, and by doing that, God would come into man. Unfortunately, man took another course. But you find, from the very beginning, that God’s thought was to make man His home, His dwelling place. He wanted to be united with man and live in man.
If you read from Genesis down to Revelation, you find that this thought continues all the way through. God never gives up this purpose. When you come to the last two chapters concerning the New Jerusalem, what do you find? “The tabernacle of God is with men.” There is the gospel.
Even though we are the thorn bush, not fit to be His dwelling place, yet He comes into us. He is willing to dwell in us. He is willing to suffer because of us until He is able to transform us and make us fit for His dwelling. That is God’s work.
I cannot get away from that—the love of God, that He can love us this way. Then He can do all things.
Now, dear friends, perhaps you say, “If God should dwell in the thorn bush, then there should be no fire.” This is the popular concept among Christians. Before you believed in the Lord Jesus, you had many problems and difficulties. But after you believed in Him, surely He would take all your problems away.
You may think that He will take all the difficulties away and will not allow you to go through trials. Your life afterwards will be smooth sailing to heaven. No more fire—only water. But if everything is water, you will drown.
The wonderful thing of God’s working is this: you are but a thorn bush, and yet He is willing to dwell in you. But He does not take away the fire. That is the strange sight.
I am sure you have believed in the Lord Jesus. Is it true that you have no more problems? Is it true that you have no more difficulties? Is it true that there are no more trials, no more fiery trials? Oh, no. You have more, if not less.
Then why? What is it? Why is it that God allows the fire to burn and burn and burn, and yet does not let the fire consume you? Many Christians ask this question: “What is the purpose? Why does God allow me to suffer? Why does He allow such testings and trials? Why does God allow me to be sick? Why does He allow certain things to happen to me?”
“If God loves me, He should show His love to me and not deal with me in this way. What is the purpose of all this? If He wants to burn me, all right, burn me up. But He does not consume me. Why is this?”
You never understand. Fire is supposed to consume. But because of the presence of the Lord in you, instead of consuming, it purifies.
Does it change you from a thorn bush to a cedar? No, you remain a thorn bush. Oh, when you look at yourself, you are still the same. But thank God, with the fire burning and the Son of God in the midst, the thorn bush shines with glory.
Wonderful! Have you ever seen a thorn bush shine? Not physically or naturally, but, dear friends, I have seen them.
You see a brother or a sister who has been undergoing trials, burned by fiery trials. Yet after that one has gone through those trials, yes, he remains human. He knows he is but a man or woman. He is nothing but a thorn bush.
Yet in that brother or sister, you see the glory of God. That thorn bush shines. That is the purpose of the fire.
In ourselves, we can never shine. There is nothing in us to shine. But with Him dwelling in us, it is the fire that brings out the glory.
Now let us use the New Testament terms. Paul tells us exactly the same thing: “We have this treasure in earthen vessels.” You see, the earthen vessel is the equivalent of the thorn bush—common, cheap, fragile, opaque, nothing.
But we have the treasure in the earthen vessel. The treasure is the equivalent of the angel of the Lord. Nobody puts treasure in an earthen vessel, but God always does what men do not do.
The same God puts this treasure, which is our Lord Jesus, in us. Christ in you—the hope of glory.
Paul says that we have this treasure in earthen vessels, “that the exceeding greatness of the power may be of God, and not from ourselves.”
Dear friends, if the Lord Jesus is not in us, when we go through these fiery trials, we will be consumed. But thank God, He is in us.
Therefore, when we go through the fire, it is not our power. We have come to the end of ourselves, but the power of God is manifested.
Again and again, this was Paul’s experience: afflicted in every way, but not crushed. You may be surrounded again and again, yet there is always a way out. You may be beaten again and again, but you are never crushed.
This is the wonder of the Christian life. So far as we ourselves are concerned, that is the end. We should be burned and consumed in a few minutes—finished. But still we are there.
The wonder is that, instead of being consumed, the life of Jesus works in us. The life of Jesus is manifested.
This great sight—the burning bush—was represented in Moses himself. Moses became a burning bush. Look at Moses: he was a burning bush.
When the Israelites murmured against him, Moses said, “Do not do that. Who am I, that you murmur against me? I am but a thorn bush. Why do you cry against a thorn bush? I have nothing.”
But he prostrated himself before God, and you find the glory of God. Even today, we are made to turn aside and say, “Oh, look at this.” This is what God wants to do.
We are watching the refining. This is what God is doing. He knows, if only you understand.
Sometimes we do not understand, and we do not yield ourselves. It takes more years. Sometimes we do not understand the fire. But, dear friends, bless it.
It is the mind of God. He wants to dwell in you. He wants to transform and glorify you. That is the reason why He brings you through all your trials: that He might make you shine.
Today we are looking for such great sights. May the world see many burning bushes.
O heavenly Father, we do praise and thank You that it is Your eternal purpose to dwell with us, to make us Your home.
O, how unsuitable we are to be Your dwelling place, and yet You were willing to come into this world, to take upon Yourself the form of a man. You were willing to go all the way to the cross for us, that You might dwell with us and keep us.
O Lord, how we pray and ask that You would not only dwell in us, but dwell with us to transform us by fire, that we may be glorified. We praise and thank You that Christ in us is the hope of glory.
So we do look to You that all that You have done, are doing, and are going to do in us, we may yield ourselves to You and cooperate, that what You desire and purpose may be fulfilled as soon as possible.
O Lord, we praise and thank You that You do this not only individually to each one of us, but that You are doing it corporately to all of us, that together we may be that vessel to contain the treasure and to manifest the power of that treasure.
We commit ourselves afresh to You. May Your hand be upon every child of Yours here. May the day soon come when You work like this in others. We ask in the precious name of our Lord Jesus.