Over the years, I have had the opportunity to visit a number of sanctuaries. Some of these sanctuaries
were quite large and some were very small. Some were located in urban cities,
others in the suburbs, and still others in rural areas. Some of these were very
elaborate, while others were very simple in architecture. Each of the sanctuaries
has had its own uniqueness. However, for me, one sanctuary stands out. It is
the sanctuary of the National Cathedral in Washington,
DC. That sanctuary has served as the setting for a number of worship services—worship
services when those in attendance included the President of the United States and other powerful leaders
of the international community of nations. When I first walked into the National
Cathedral, I was overwhelmed by its massive size.
Up to that point, for me, only the chapel at
Duke
University and the Rockefeller Chapel at the University of Chicago had come close to that size. From the high altar
at one end, to the vestibule at the other end—it was 1/10th of a mile long. An
attendant there told that one could park a 747 airplane within the sanctuary with plenty of room to spare. Not only was the massive size of the building impressive, but it also had been filled with intricate and
expensive carvings, enormous stained glass windows, and colorful silk hangings. Sitting at the back of that sanctuary, I was
impressed at how the builders had attempted to covey through glass, metal, cloth and stone, a building suitable for God’s
glory. Its massive size and elaborate architecture spoke of a God that is bigger
than we can imagine—a God to whom our best efforts to praise are in the end meager and flawed. At the same time, we too continue to build, and renovate sanctuaries—not
for ourselves—but because they might point to God’s glory.
In both of these stories— the story of Moses on the mountain, and the story Jesus on the mountain—like
sanctuaries, these stories point beyond themselves to God’s glory. First,
the Exodus story: In order for
us to grasp the Exodus story, we have to go back to earlier scenes in the story. We
have to go back to when Moses had brought the people of Israel out of bondage in Egypt to Mt. Sinai. There at Mt. Sinai, they were to hear God’s word for
their lives. With lightening streaking across the sky, and thunder shaking the
foundations all about him, Moses ascended the mountain. About the same time, God likewise descended from heaven to the top
of the mountain. From amidst a cloud, God then gave Moses the Ten Commandments
on two tablets of stone.
Meanwhile at the foot of the mountain the people had grown impatient over Moses’ absence. They were not sure
about the God that had led them to this mountain. They therefore hedged their bets by building a Golden Calf and worshipping
him. The Golden Calf was one of the gods that they had known in Egypt. For them to
worship this Egyptian god, was for them to claim the social rules of domination on which that society had been built—social
rules of domination from which God had freed them. God had given them the potential of freedom. Nevertheless, they quickly
were falling back into their old habits. They were not willing to claim the freedom
God had given them. God therefore became very angry with them. Moses sought to appease God’s anger by telling the people to repent of their sin, and to commit themselves
to God. However, three thousand people refused to repent, and Moses had them
executed. However, God’s anger was not appeased. God told them to leave
his mountain and travel toward Canaan. However, they would have to travel alone. God would not go with
them.
We are told that God’s compassion for them overruled his anger against them. Therefore, in time, God told
Moses to again ascent the mountain to meet with him. On that mountain, God and Moses dialogued with one another. However, before they parted, Moses made an unbelievable request of God. He asked God to allow him to see God’s glory. God
replied in telling Moses that a human being could not see God’s glory and live to tell about it. Therefore, God directed Moses to hide in the cliff of a rock,
a place of shelter. God then lovingly covered Moses with his hand lest he look
upon God’s glory and die. Then as God turned to walk away from Moses, God
took his hand from before Moses and allowed him to see God walking away.
Moses had been communing with God for 40 days and 40 nights—a long time. During that time, God had made a covenant
with these Israelites, a covenant symbolized in the Ten Commandments. When Moses
descended from that mountain, he was a changed man. His face conveyed God’s
glorious presence. When the people saw him, they were afraid. Moses however called out to them, and slowly Aaron and all the rest came closer to him. Moses then told them of meeting God on the mountain, and of the covenant that God had made with the people.
The people still starred at Moses’ face, and they were afraid of him. Therefore, in order to calm the people’s fears, whenever he walked about the
camp he would wear a veil over his face. However, when he would speak to God or tell the people what God had commanded them—he
then would remove the veil from before his face.
The other story for today was from Luke 9, the story of Jesus’ transfiguration. That story likewise
took place on a mountain. Perhaps that mountain was the same mountain upon which
Moses had met with God. As the story goes, Jesus and the inner circle (Peter,
James and John) had gone up the mountain to pray. Tired, the disciples fell asleep.
When they awoke, the disciples witnessed Jesus’ form glowing as if it was
radiating a light—a Godly light. With Jesus were two men—Moses and
Elijah. They were talking with him about Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem, how Jesus was going
to die there. Peter wanted that moment to last, and he suggested that they build
shelters that they might continue that conversation. Then without warning, a
cloud them descended upon the mountain and overshadowed them—and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. From the cloud came a voice—God’s voice—the voice declared that Jesus was God’s
Son, the chosen one, and they were to listen to him. Then suddenly it was all
over—the cloud was gone—Moses and Elijah were gone—leaving Jesus and the three disciples on the mountain.
What are we to make of these two stories? Both of these stories are
about God’s glory: The people
saw God’s glory in Moses’ face. Moses did not shine of his own charisma.
That light therefore seemed to be a reflected light—a light that reflected his intimate relationship with God—a
relationship that enabled him to lead the people.
In Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountain, heaven and earth seemed
caught up in a warp of spiritual time and space. Within the Celtic tradition,
there was the idea of the “thin places”—geographic places where
the past, present, and future came together— places where the veil between heaven and earth was pulled aside for a brief
period, and so that one seemed almost to be able to step into the other. One
of those “thin places” seemed to happen on the Mount of Transfiguration. For
on the Mount of Transfiguration, heaven and earth briefly touched, and God’s glory was seen in Jesus. Then suddenly, it was over. They were back in the world from
where they had come. There was work to do. The
next day when they descended from the mountain there was a crowd waiting on them. Moreover,
there was a father crying for help for his son who was having convulsions. Then
there was the journey to Jerusalem and the cross—all to be for God’s glory.
Vincent Van Gogh during his lifetime painted a number of ordinary seeming objects: a
yellow chair, a vase of flowers, a collection of small sailboats beached by the seashore. Among
his works, is a painting of a pair of old work boots. The boots appear almost
worn out—each boot leaning against the other. At first glance, nothing
could appear more ordinary. However, as one looks closer at the painting, one
notices a light in the painting. A light is illuminating the boots—a light
which come from beyond the edge of the painting. That light illuminates and thereby
transforms those worn boots into symbolizing someone’s labor. Because of
the light that illuminates them—the boots become expressive of the daily work of the one who wore them.
Like the light shining on these worn boots, God’s glory shines through men and women that are doing God’s
benevolent work in the world.
God’s glory shines through the nurse that puts aside her own concerns, that she might comfort a dying mother—and
then she gives that mother and her family time to say “good-bye” to one another.
God’s glory shines through the parent who gets up in the middle of the night because of the cries of a sick and
frightened child. The parent comforts the child, cleans up after the child, and
assures the child that the parent will be close throughout the night. The parent does this act, despite the parent having a hard day’s work waiting at dawn.
God’s glory shines through one listening to the expressed needs of a homeless person, or an alcoholic or one
addicted to drugs. Taking the expressed needs seriously, the one knows that at
the same time that there are other needs—deeper needs that will remain unexpressed during that encounter.
God glory shines through two friends going to God in prayer, asking for
God’s strength in facing face a serious illness and its painful treatment.
Moreover, on this Valentine’s Day, it is important to remember that God’s glory shines through whenever
couples continue to love one another even amidst their life challenges.
Karl Barth, the renounced preacher and professor once said: God is
“the one who makes us radiant. We ourselves cannot put on bright faces. But
neither can we prevent them from shining. Looking up to him, our faces shine.”
God calls
us to live out our lives in communion with him. God likewise calls us to
live out our lives in communion with others. As we do so, we are to convey God’s
justice and compassion in all these relationships. May God’s glory therefore
shine through our lives.
Dr. William dePrater
