No matter where you turn or who you talk to in these beginning years of the twenty-first century, it’s pretty hard to escape the realization that there are spiritual “seekers” all around us.  People of all religions and people of no religion at all frequently describe themselves as seekers, or on a spiritual quest.  What people mean when they describe themselves as seekers varies tremendously.  For some it’s a genuine search for God; for others a rather more egocentric quest to feel better about themselves, and for still others, it’s an urgent need to find some meaning in their lives.

By the same token, it’s also pretty hard to escape the knowledge that many, many people have drifted away or run away from the institutional church in the last fifty years or so.  Some have left because they didn’t agree with a theological position their denomination was taking or they got mad at somebody; some have left because they felt they weren’t being spiritually nourished, and some have left because they just got out of the habit of going to church or got too busy doing other things.  

So it is in our time that we have serious seekers on the one hand, and total non-seekers on the other.  Maybe we shouldn’t be surprise that it was like that in Bible times too.  We hear stories about two men today, Moses and Nicodemus; one a seeker and one a non-seeker.  Both their stories have something to teach us about who God is and what God desires. 

First we read the famous burning bush incident from Exodus, and in our minds we’re already fast-forwarding to Moses the great biblical hero, Moses the leader of the exodus from Egypt, Moses who meets God on the mountain and receives the Ten Commandants.  But when we meet him in Chapter 3 of Exodus, he’s anything but a hero.  In point of fact, he’s a runaway, a murderer, and a fugitive.  Having killed an Egyptian for beating a slave, Moses has fled his life of privilege as the adopted son of Pharaoh’s daughter, and is living incognito in the hill country of Midian.  He’s started over again with a new wife and son, and he’s working as a shepherd for his father-in-law.  He’s not seeking a thing except maybe not to be found.

And then there’s Nicodemus who comes to visit Jesus under cover of darkness for fear of being recognized; the passage we heard from John’s gospel. John, in fact, describes Nicodemus as a “seeker after truth.”  That in itself is intriguing because Nicodemus is somebody who we would expect has a good grasp of the truth.  He’s a Pharisee; one of among the most educated, faithful, and fervent Jews of that era.  He’s also a leader of the people, serving as a member of the Jewish council, the Sanhedrin.  He’s right up there with those who are supposed to be experts at the religious life and “get it” about God.  But there’s something about Jesus that’s tugging at Nicodemus, and Nicodemus just has to know more.  Nicodemus makes his way to Jesus, incognito just like Moses, but with the burning questions in his head and heart that Moses is trying to forget.

Nicodemus the seeker; making his way to the Rabbi Jesus in the dark of night in the middle of sleepy Jerusalem…  Moses the non-seeker, tending his sheep in broad daylight, out on the rocky hills in the middle of nowhere in Midian… Both encounter God in surprisingly different ways.  Both are ultimately changed forever by their encounter with God.  Both are going to be stunned by where God is to be found.

Moses meets God in a burning bush of all things; in the physical world of matter.  Nicodemus meets God in Jesus as Nicodemus struggles to understand the implications of a new revelation of God - God made man.  Moses, not seeking a thing, stumbles over the presence of God in the middle of nowhere.  Nicodemus, seeking truth, finds it in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. 

Moses goes on to do all the things we remember – he becomes the greatest of greatest of leaders.  Nicodemus we know less about; but we do know he and Joseph of Arimathea took care of the body of Jesus after the crucifixion, anointing the body with spices, wrapping the body in linen cloths, and laying the body in a tomb.   

Maybe the thing for us, as we reflect on their stories and think of our own stories, is that whether we consider ourselves seekers or non-seekers, the real seeker in our time – and in fact in all time – is God himself.  It is God who seeks us because he loves us; it is God who longs for us to see him or sense him but ultimately to know him.  Someone else said that, “For thirty years I sought God.  But when I looked carefully, I saw that in reality God was the Seeker and I was the sought.” 

For Moses it was a burning bush; for us sometimes perhaps it’s in the glory of a sunset or the beauty of the shoreline.  For Nicodemus it was the person of Jesus; for us perhaps the sacrament of his presence in Holy Communion.  In the beauty of creation, in the eyes of another person, in the words of the Bible, in the sacraments of the church, in our prayers, in our heart of hearts – God is there and here – whether we are seeking and looking - or not.

Perhaps that’s why these lessons are chosen for Trinity Sunday; a day in which we are thankful particularly for the God who seeks us in a variety of ways.  Over time, we’ve learned to name those manifestations of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

One of the little Celtic books I use in my daily devotions has a lovely phrase as an opening to prayer.  It goes: “Be still and aware of God’s presence within and all around.”  We don’t have to seek God; God is already here.  And if we’re not particularly seeking God out, we may be surprised where God is to be found.  Maybe you’ll stumble over God this week in the midst of nowhere, like Moses stumbling over God in a burning bush.  Maybe you’ll say your prayers this week and feel God inside you, loving you from the bottom of your soul.  Maybe you’ll look into the eyes of some stranger this week and see Christ reflected there.  Maybe you’ll hold out your hands for bread and wine and feel spiritually full.

Whatever your week may bring; wherever your week may take you – God is there, just as God is here.  We were found before we ever felt lost; known before we could even say our own names and loved before all time.