Exodus 33:12-23 “Not the Face of God”
James McTyre
Lake Hills Presbyterian Church (USA)
October 19, 2008
I love the earthy stories of the Old Testament and this is one of the earthiest. In the early stories of the Old Testament, especially the stories concerning Moses, God's not only earthy, God is earth-ly. In Exodus, God shows a lot of the same frustration, same anger, same joy – and even the same confusion – you and I go through on a daily basis. And a lot of this frustration, anger, joy and confusion revolves around God and the Israelites getting to know each other, getting to where they can work together, and be strong together.
In these early days of the Bible, there's a relationship being formed. The Israelites are getting to know God. God's getting to know the Israelites. It's kind of like they're on a date. What's your name? Where do you live? Can I call you, and if so, what's the best way to get in touch? In today's scripture they're specifically working on, How can I be sure I can trust you? And, What do you really look like?
As we celebrate our 51st anniversary as a church, it's kind of providential that this scripture came up in the lectionary of readings. I didn't pick it; it's the assigned reading for today. Coincidence? I think not. The good thing is, after 51 years together, we're still here, we're still together, and we're still getting to know God. The earthiness of God and Moses has a ton of light to shed on the earthliness of our own relationship as a church.
First Big Question: How can I be sure I can trust you?
Moses has a special relationship with God. Moses is always very deferential, but he's also unafraid to challenge God and to remind God of God's promises.
12 Moses said to the LORD, "You have been telling me, 'Lead these people,' but you have not let me know whom you will send with me.
“You have said, 'I know you by name and you have found favor with me.' 13 If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you.
“Remember that this nation is your people."
I think a lot of the time, in our minds, we place God on a throne so far up in heaven that we wouldn't dare speak to God this plainly. We think it's sinful to say, “Um, excuse me, your most Almighty-ness, but we have a problem here.” Moses, speaking on behalf of God's people, wasn't afraid to press God for answers.
Moses says, “Lord, you've told me to lead these people, but you haven't told me who you're going to send with me to help me get the job done.” Moses says, “And, also, you've said you know my name and you like me, but I need to know a little more about you, so I'll know what else you like.”
Listen to God's answer, because it's very instructive:
14 The LORD replied, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest."
First, “My Presence with go with you.” In the Bible, the word “Presence” is capitalized. And that's no accident. When God speaks to Moses about how God's Presence (with a capital P) with go with him, it's crucial to the relationship.
A lot of times God feels distant. We know God is with us – in Spirit, at least that's what we're told to believe. But “in Spirit's” kind of vague. We know we should believe God's present with us, but it would be nice to know exactly where and how. That's what Moses wants to know. God says, “My Presence (with a capital P) will go with you.”
It's one thing to tell your kid, “Good luck at the soccer game. I'll be thinking about you.” It's another thing to sit out in the rain, in the cold, in a bent-up lawn chair, cheering for them, even when they score a goal for the opposing team. “Good luck, I'll be thinking about you,” is being present – in spirit. Soaked to the skin and still screaming your lungs out is being Present with a capital P.
God's not going to just send the Israelites out and be wishing them the very best, promising to check in every once in a while. God's going to be capital P Present. When they trudge through the rain, God's going to trudge with them. When they dance at the riverside, God's going to dance with them. God's real, honest-to-goodness Presence will be there.
Over these past 51 years – at births and baptisms, in hospital rooms and at gravesides, at pot-luck dinners, and Family Camps, at committee meetings and in worship – God's capital P presence has been with us. If it hadn't, we wouldn't be here today. The Israelites would never have made it fourty years and Lake Hills Presbyterian Church would never have made it 51 without the Capital P presence of God.
First, God says, “My Presence will go with you,” and (second), “I will give you rest.”
“I will give you rest.”
That's kind of a strange thing to say. I'd expect something like, “My Presence will go with you, 'and you'll be #1.' You'll be the belle of the ball. You'll be popular. You'll be successful. You'll have three worship services and a tram system in the parking lot.
But no, that's not the benefit of God's capital P presence. God will be with the Israelites, and God will give them rest.
This is pretty practical good news. The Israelites are out there, schlepping through the wilderness. They need rest after 40 years of wondering. On a physical level, they're tired. Their feet hurt. Rest is a good thing.
But I also think God's promise of rest is spiritual. Spiritually, God'll give the people rest.
Do you ever wonder if your faith is good enough? Do you ever wonder if your faith is strong enough? Do you ever wonder if you shouldn't be studying the Bible more, or praying better prayers, or cooking more casseroles for people in crisis? On one hand, maybe that's your conscience nudging you. Maybe you should be working harder at your faith and giving away more casseroles. But maybe also you feel like you're already doing every single thing you know how to do. You're racing to remember where you're supposed to be next, you've got a to-do list as long as your arm, or your leg, and you think, “When am I going to possibly find the time to be a better person of faith?”
God's promise is, “My Presence will be with you... and I will give you rest.” Hmm. If God's willing to give you a break, maybe you should give yourself a break, too. Maybe your faith is only the size of a mustard seed, as Jesus will later say. At least you have faith, and at least you're willing to do something to help it grow. You're here. You're present. That counts.
Joel Hanisek, who grew up in our church, is now the Presbyterian Church's Representative to the United Nations. From time to time, I'll send him an email saying, “Um, excuse me. There's still war in the Middle East. Russia's invading it's neighbors. Might you need to be cutting back on those coffee breaks?” And Joel always answers back something like, “You know, you're right. I'll get Ahamedinejad on the phone right now and put a stop to all this.”
It may not be the point that a person of faith has to solve all the world's problems. Maybe it's enough for people of faith to be present, to presently bear witness to God's capital P presence in the world, and to remind the world that we're not in this all by ourselves.
I think a lot of times we have church envy. We look at churches that are ten times our size and worry, “What are we doing wrong?” And the answer may be, “Maybe that's not the kind of church God's calling us to be. Maybe God's calling us to be present right here, with each other, as best we can.” Now, I don't think that ever means being complacent. But maybe God is OK with us being who we are, where we are, and wants to let us rest assured.
The first big question of Moses to God is, “How can I be sure I trust you?” And the answer is, “Because my presence will be with you, and I will give you rest.”
Second big question: What do you really look like?
The scene that follows is unique in all the Bible. There's nothing else like it.
18 Then Moses said, "Now show me your glory."
19 And the LORD said, "I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. 20 But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."
21 Then the LORD said, "There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. 22 When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23 Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen."
Moses can't see God face on, because it would kill him. So God covers Moses' eyes with his hand, and when it's safe Moses will get to see God's back.
This is so incredible. How many times have you wanted to see God? How many times have you wanted God to show up and say, “Here I am. This is what you should do. This is how you should be. These are the choices you should make. And this is what I'm going to do.”?? That's all Moses wanted. And God said, “I'd be glad to do that, but it would kill you. You couldn't handle it.”
It's not that God wants to be secretive; it's that we're fragile. And so to protect us, God puts a hand over our eyes, until it's safe.
Have you ever had one of those bizarre coincidences when you think, “OK, God. That was creepy. You can come out now.”?? A friend shows up at just the right time. You have some chance encounter that seems way too planned to have been an accident. I used to have a wise, old minister who taught me the saying, “Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous.”
And then after the fact, minutes – days – years later – God removes the hand from our eyes and we think, no, we know, “That was God! God did that!” It's so much easier to see God's back. We're trying so hard to see God coming at us, when God's there all along, in the rear-view mirror.
We look at pictures – we saw some slides this morning and we're going to see a different presentation tonight at our pot-luck dinner – we look at these pictures of 51 years of church, and people always say, “Wow. We've done a lot.” And we have. But more than that, we look back at these pictures and we're reminded how God has been there, how God has been present with a capital P, even though we were doing whatever we were doing. So we care for each other. Sometimes we've fought with each other. We care for our world. We raise up and send out new generations of people to care, to fight, to love as the people of God, sometimes realizing what we're doing but more often just doing it because that's what we've always done. Every now and then, sometimes at a retrospective Birthday Dinner, God removes the holy hand from our eyes and we see, and we say, “Wow. You know what? That was God. That was God at work. It wasn't just us, and it wasn't just coincidence.
That's just the way God looks. And for our own protection, that's just the way we see God.
Of course, with Moses and the Israelites, God was getting the relationship started. Eventually, God would be seen in person, in Jesus Christ, and seeing him wouldn't kill anyone. Quite the opposite: Jesus would be the one who defeats our frailties, even our death, and brings life. Jesus would be the consummation of the answers to the questions, How can we trust God, and How does God look.
But the story doesn't end there. After Jesus, the capital P presence of God gets re-written in the Capital S Spirit of God, the Holy Spirit. And through the Holy Spirit, we can catch a passing glimpse of God right now. We can catch a passing glimpse of God in each other's eyes. We catch a passing glimpse of God in shared memories, and in the laughter of our children, and in the wisdom of aging saints. The Capital S Spirit of God keeps us going, 51 years, and into the future we're not strong enough to see. We trust, we hope, we know God. We see God in our rear-view mirrors, and we know we will see God, face to face. And in that our church, and you, and I, can rest assured.
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