Glory is to be noticed
Ami Hudson 2/14/10 Sermon
How do we seek out and attend to glory? In Exodus 34:29-35, Moses came down from Mt Sinai and “the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God.” This was different from any glow or flush you or I might get if we had carried those stone tablets down the side of a mountain. This was different because some of God’s radiance imparted to Moses. God’s glory was visible on the face of a person.
And the Israelites were spooked. They kept their distance from this figure with the shining face. Moses might have expected a warmer welcome after 40 days on the mountain with no food or water on their behalf. Their hanging back scared must’ve been a big let-down to Moses. He’d just received word for them from the LORD, but couldn’t get an audience among the people. Unaware that his face is shining, I imagine Moses baffled by people’s standoffish reaction. But Moses called to them, they came close enough to hear, and Moses spoke to them the words of God.
This is the first time that Moses’ face shines. But Moses is no stranger to God’s glory. It’s Moses who met God in the burning bush. A reluctant Moses though whom God worked signs and wonders as a warning to Pharoah. Moses before whom God parted the sea. Moses leading God’s people securely in the wilderness guided by a pillar of cloud and fire. Moses trusting God’s daily provision of manna to a tired, hungry camp. No, Moses is no stranger to glory. In fact, just before our present passage Moses makes an unusual prayer request. In 33.18 Moses pleads, “Show me your glory, I pray.”
The word “glory” that we use comes from Latin. But Exodus uses a Hebrew word for Glory that I really like: KABOD. I like KABOD because it sounds heavy. While the word “glory” I associate with heaven, clouds and bright light, it can seem far-off and other worldly. Gloria in excelsis deo has its place. But it’s this KABOD-glory that Moses requests. It feels heavy and close like holy presence, it has weight, authority and reverence. This is right in character with the God of the Exodus–the guiding pillar of cloud and fire, the presence of God known by Moses.
I wonder what we can learn from Moses about how to know God. A while back I had titled this sermon How to Hear God in a Noisy World. Was Moses’ world noisy, like ours can be? Well, there was a fair amount of complaining. Plus some worries: Did we do the right thing leaving? It was Egypt, but it was the only home we knew. How long will we be here in this wilderness? Did we mess up everything we’ve worked for with that golden calf nonsense? Will the manna run out tomorrow? When should we move in on Canaan? And how’s that going to work exactly? Yes, I imagine Moses had an internal script playing at least as loudly as some of ours. In the gravity of his times, Israel’s prayerful leader sought God’s guiding presence.
Moses is a person of prayer. We learn some of his habits in chapter 33. Moses would carry a tent outside of where they camped and pitch it there. That’s where people would seek God. They called it the Tent of Meeting. Scripture says, “When Moses entered the tent, the pillar of cloud would descend and stand at the entrance of the tent, and the LORD would speak with Moses…. Thus, the LORD used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend.” (33.9-11)
Do you have a Tent of Meeting? It might not be an actual tent, but a space where you seek God’s presence? For me it used to be our guest room, where I could think, pray, write in my journal a bit and look out the window. Until I started cleaning out closets. Then my tent of meeting became a meeting with chaos. I know a couple of families who designated a small room in their house as a prayer room. But it doesn’t’ have to be a dedicated room. There may be a certain chair where you sit when the house is quiet, or your Tent of Meeting may be taking a walk or during your drive. What is it for you?
For me, seeking God requires being quiet and still sometimes. This is a challenge when we have a lot to do. But when we’re busiest is when we need it most. It reminds us that we’re human beings, not human doings.
Something I notice about Moses’ prayer is that it’s often Listening prayer. He certainly talks to God, quite openly I might add. He asks his questions. Expresses his reluctance and fear, like at the burning bush. Not me, Lord. How about my brother, Aaron? He pleads with God rather boldly at times. They have that kind of relationship.
And Moses also does a lot of listening. At times, 40 days of praying and listening. Enough listening to write down what God says on tablets. We may not have 40 days at our disposal. If you do, there are 40-day retreats that would be wonderful. But short of that, a good thing to do every now and then is to prayerfully make a list of some things God might be saying to you. What is God saying to you through your circumstances, opportunities, struggles, blessings or encounters? What are some of the callings in your life right now? What are the invitations?
There are times in life when God feels distant or even absent. We can take a cue from Moses here too. We can certainly ask for a stronger sense of God’s presence and expect that prayer to be answered. Moses prayed, “Show me your glory.” We can pray this. And if we do, look out! The full measure of God’s presence is more than I might be ready for at times. It might scare me like it did the Israelites. So I might even pray, “Show me your glory, but don’t scare me.” Maybe it’s a coward’s prayer, but it’s honest. I wonder if Moses had to work up to it too. Moses asks to know God, and certainly receives what he asks for.
God’s presence among Israel was a gift that made their life distinctive. They were the people God liberated and provided for and among whom God worked wonders. So it is with us. God’s glory and presence are gifts that make our life distinctive. Glory is meant to be noticed. It’s all around us if we’re paying attention. I’m not saying there’s magic and wonder behind every bush and under every rock, but isn’t there more than we notice? Often I’m not paying enough attention.
Take yesterday morning– the snow was lovely. But we’ve had our share of snow already and I had this sermon project to wrap up. So I barely appreciated the fresh snowfall, and while I was too busy to admire it and far too serious to play in it, it melted.
This poem titled “Invitation” by Mary Oliver gets at the importance of noticing.
Oh do you have time
to linger
for just a little while
out of your busy
and very important day
for the goldfinches
that have gathered
in a field of thistles
for a musical battle,
to see who can sing
the highest note,
or the lowest,
or the most expressive of mirth,
or the most tender?
Their strong blunt beaks
drink the air
as they strive
melodiously
not for your sake
and not for mine
and not for the sake of winning
but for sheer delight and gratitude-
believe us, they say,
it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world.
I beg of you,
do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It could mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.[1]
My friend Julie posts thought-provoking questions on facebook now and then. Recently she asked for responses to this question: What is the opposite of worship? I had to think it over a while, but I wonder if the opposite of worship might be Disregard. Responses included “apathy,” “benign neglect,” “ignoring what is sacred.” When we fail to notice glory and wonder, life is diminished.
There are times when we are called to attend more closely to the glory that’s already around us, and times when we can’t miss it–like when the disciples saw Jesus transfigured and heard the voice of God (Luke 9:28-36). In Moses’ life, there were dramatic burning bush and parting sea moments, and other times when Moses yearned to see God more clearly. So it will be with us.
Is there some of God’s glory in each of us who seek it? I’m going to tell you one of the best compliments I ever got. Years ago a Christian man from Haiti whom I had just met told me, “I could tell from the first time I saw you that you are a Christian.” I don’t tell this to brag, and actually I think it says much more about his spiritual way of noticing than it says about me. But it stuck with me.
There is something of God in each of us, perhaps visible to those like my friend who have eyes to see it. Have you seen the glory of God on the face of a person, perhaps at a difficult or important time? As friends of God, you and I have the capacity to make visible the glory of God in the midst of the ordinary. This is our ministry, on this fresh morning in this broken world.
Paul writes, “For it is the God who said ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (2 Cor 4:6).
And hopefully on the faces of us. Jesus taught, “You are the light of the world.” Let your light shine before others so that they may give glory to God (Matthew 5:14). Glory is to be sought out, noticed and cherished. Amen.
[1] Mary Oliver, Red Bird: Poems, 2008