Much more.

The manifest presence of God...

I've been to the foot of Mount Sinai—who knows, I may have even trodden roughly where Moses, shepherding sheep, once trod, although the terrain will have changed significantly!

Moses wasn’t always a shepherd, though. Once, he was a prince of Egypt, living in the palace, surrounded by vast wealth and power. You probably know the story—after one fateful decision, an act of justice (slightly murdering someone who was beating Moses' fellow Israelite) that led to tragedy, he found himself wandering the wilderness with sheep for company, far from the impressive splendour of Pharaoh’s court, far from the people he once called his own.

Time passed. Slowly. Very slowly—tick, tick, tick—and with it, his confidence faded into the quiet rhythm of taking the sheep for a walk, looking for food, until one day... in the periphery of his vision there was a bush. It was burning... but it was not consumed. And in that moment, everything changed.

Exodus 3 calls us to go find a comfy spot, grab a hot drink, and sit—listen while it tells us the story that will impact history. The bush was ablaze—fire, crackling, and heat—and Moses had a choice. He could keep walking, ignore it, pushing it away to the back of his mind as maybe the desert heat was playing tricks on his eyes.

Or he could take a closer look. Lots of fire—but no sign of abatement. The bush... wasn't burning—it was... just on fire! The Scriptures say, "When the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, 'Moses, Moses!' And he said, 'Here I am.'" (Exodus 3:4, ESV).

And isn’t that something? God was already there. Waiting. Watching. But it wasn’t until Moses turned aside that God spoke. Maybe that’s how it works—God’s presence is always burning, always near, always calling. And yet, it’s in our turning aside, in our willingness to pause, that we find ourselves standing on holy ground. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you (James 4:8)

That's sometimes how God works—coming in ways we never expect, at times we never anticipate. Right slap-bang in the middle of the ordinary, right when we least expect it.

We think God should show up with a grand entrance, with trumpet blasts and thunder—and at a mutually convenient time. Not forgetting today’s ‘glory-substitute - the smoke machine! But more often than not, He arrives quietly, subtly, in the most awkward and inconvenient of moments.

We like to think we can schedule God. Plan for Him. Even in our Sunday mornings... But the truth? The presence of God doesn’t wait for an invitation. It doesn’t check your calendar. It interrupts. It crashes into your life—when you’re busy, when you’re distracted, when you’re just trying to get through your day.

And when the presence of God comes, it comes with weight. Glory. The Hebrew word for glory—kabod—means "weight." When God shows up, you feel it. Your priorities shift. Your heart is exposed. Chains fall away. It’s disruptive. It’s overwhelming. And, let’s be honest—it’s not always convenient.

I remember visiting Toronto during the outpouring in 1994. My friend, Rick Berry, one of the pastors there, took me on a Monday to do some admin things (it was closed to the public on Mondays to allow the staff to do their shopping, washing, etc.), and he left me alone in the building whilst he went to his office. I went into the main auditorium and went and sat, then laid on the stairs—overwhelmed! The sense of God was so heavy it was beyond words. If I didn't know better, I would have thought the Ark of the Covenant was in the building!

Back to Moses—and here’s the thing. This moment—this burning bush—is a glimpse of something bigger. It’s a foreshadowing of the gospel itself. Jesus, the ultimate unexpected interruption, steps into our world in a way no one saw coming. He didn’t come with armies or riches; He came as a child in a manger, later walking among us, meeting us in our wilderness places, calling us into His greater story.

And it’s not just about you when you encounter His manifest presence. When you encounter the presence of God, it’s not meant to stay locked inside you. It spills over—into your family, your workplace, your community—that's because when God sets a fire, when He's doing something, it’s never just for one person; it’s for an entire people.

With that presence comes a choice—a tension between fear and faith. When God calls, there’s always that hesitation—What if I’m not enough? What if I fail? What if this leads me somewhere I don’t want to go? Be encouraged: God doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called. Grace meets us in our fear, our uncertainty, and in our hesitation.

Think about the disciples and how their journey began. They were out fishing, exhausted, catching nothing; and then, out of nowhere... Jesus. Unexpected. Unprecedented. Audacious.

He tells them to cast their nets on the other side, and suddenly, everything they thought they knew changed (John 21:6). Scarcity became abundance. Despair turned to hope. Routine became revelation. And it was fish for supper.

So the question has to be asked—how many burning bushes have you walked past? How many moments have you ignored—too busy, too preoccupied, waiting for the perfect moment or the right conditions?

Maybe—just maybe—God is already there. Right in the middle of your chaos, in the middle of your inconvenience. The gospel is the greatest interruption of all—God stepping into our story, taking on flesh, walking among us, dying for us, rising again. And that same God? He’s still showing up. Still interrupting. Still calling us to more.

The invitation is simple: turn aside. Pay attention. Take off your shoes. Because when you do, you’ll realise you’re standing on holy ground.