"Show Me the Glory" - a Lenten sermon by Mark Mattes
Exodus 33:12-23 [NRSV]
12Moses said to the Lord, “See, you say to me, ‘Bring up this people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.’ 13Now therefore, if I have found favor in your sight, please show me now your ways, that I may know you in order to find favor in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.” 14And he said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” 15And he said to him, “If your presence will not go with me, do not bring us up from here. 16For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people? Is it not in your going with us, so that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth?”
17And the Lord said to Moses, “This very thing that you have spoken I will do, for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.” 18Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” 21And the Lord said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.”
Ever think you’ve had a bad day? Just think what Moses had to deal with: what would sanitation have been like for the children of Israel in their sojourn in the desert. It’s not as if there were port-a-potties, let alone running water in the desert. Remember all the clamor that the children of Israel had for food—and then they couldn’t stand the manna they were given. They were liberated men and women, freed slaves. You’d think they’d be grateful but instead all they did was complain. Sleeping in tents isn’t like sleeping at the Hilton. Why couldn’t God give us a 5 Star hotel to stay at? What’s the use of all the money that the Egyptians gave us—paying us off, if you will, just to get us out of Egypt: there’s no local mall to spend the wealth at. And on and on they went.
Part of why we have leaders or alphas is that they are paid to take the heat. Any alpha worth his or her salt loves to be in the limelight. But no alpha likes being responsible for all the complaints that people come up with. And the Bible doesn’t mince words about the children of Israel’s complaints. The children of Israel complain, whine, and murmur. You’d think God’s people would be beyond that sort of thing. But whining is what they do best. Whiners ever play the victim role. But, ironically, the children of Israel have it good: better off a free man or woman in the desert than a slave in Egypt. But oh do they want to return to the fleshpots there and enjoy the onions, leeks, and garlic they seasoned their mush with. Better that than this manna and quail day in and do out.
Any alpha can only take so much whining. Moses takes his concerns to God. Do you hear the give and take between God and Moses? Moses pushes God—he challenges God in ways that I wouldn’t think of challenging my boss! He shoves God’s promises right into God’s nose: “you’ve told me to lead—but you’ve given me no clue about who is going to help me.” “God, you’ve promised me that you’ll be true and bring us to the promised land, but how will I know you’ll be true to your word?” Really Moses? Do we, like you, have a status with God that I don’t even have with my boss? Who do you think you are to be so pushy with God?
And God can handle Moses’ pushiness. God doesn’t take it personally, get irate, or send a thunderbolt to stop Moses dead in his tracks. It’s not that God doesn’t respond, at times, with anger—but it would seem he can handle our unguarded and honest doubts. God simply reiterates: “my presence will go with you, and I will give your rest.” And here’s Moses, true to character, ever predictable, unable to switch to a different station: “What if? What if you don’t keep your promise? What if you don’t lead us? Wouldn’t that be shameful?”
And here’s God again—comforting Moses like a parent would comfort a child: “I’ll keep my word. You wait and see.” Even then, Moses ups the ante: God, show me your glory—show me what you’ve got. Prove it. Be transparent. Take off your mask. Once I see your glory, I’ll believe. No more questions, worries, or complaints after that. Just put it out there and I’ll be good. I’ll chill (as my own children would say).
Does God get mad at this? No; the Lord says, “okay. You want it; you’ve got it. I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name.” More importantly, God repeats what that name is all about: “I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.” But here’s the catch: you cannot see my face, for humans shall not see me and live.” God tells Moses that the glory of the Lord will pass by Moses. But the Lord will cover Moses while Moses is in the cleft of a rock. This protecting hand will shield him from God’s sheer power and glory. After God has passed by, Moses will be able to see God’s back but not the Lord's face.
Now, that might not be what Moses wanted—like a kid disappointed with gifts at Christmas—but that is what Moses will get.
When bad things and challenging things happen to us—when we deal with complaints like Moses did until our heads hurt and our stomachs churn—we like Moses run to God with “why?” “Why me?” has to be one of the most often asked questions over the millennia on this planet. We talk about God as having a plan and that we are a part of that plan. Many Evangelical Christians like to say, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.” But when trouble comes our way—and it certainly will come—just as they came for Jeremiah, Isaiah, Moses, Paul, and even our dear Lord Jesus—we want God to unpack that plan. We want God to be transparent: show us the road map. Perhaps we ended up on a dirt road, or an icy road, or a cul-de-sac, or a road winding through a scary neighborhood, or a post-winter road where the potholes are so big they can swallow not just compact cars but also big trucks. God, if you’d just clue me in, I would be able to cope with my pain, hurt, fears, trauma, anxiety. So if I can’t cope with my problems, guess whose fault it is? God’s!
Now, according to the Bible, Moses was so intimate with God when he encountered God that some of God’s glory would rub off on Moses. So much so, that after visiting with God, Moses had to wear a veil to cover up that God-shine radiating off him. If second-hand glory could tan and blind the children of Israel, how much worse would be a bare naked encounter with God be? We think that it would be good for us to be clued into that big map of the cosmos and where we fit it—possibly we could offer God advice about how to run the world—but that’s God’s job, not ours. We are actors in the drama of life—we aren’t the playwright. That’s why God shields Moses, covers Moses with a protecting hand, so that that glory doesn’t engulf, burn, simmer, tan or fry Moses alive. That’s why we too—especially when we want to see God’s face—know the big plan—get only God’s backside.
We like maps. When Europeans first conquered this hemisphere, they set out to map it. That would guarantee their control. After the Louisiana Purchase, President Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark across the prairies, deserts, and mountains to the Pacific Ocean. That expedition began the process of mapping the North American west. Astronomers map the heavens and genome project geneticists map our biological codes. The more we know, presumably the more we can make life better. The more we are in control, the more life can flourish.
That would appear to be true about matters of business, industry, health, and the like. If we were honest, though, all that attempt for control lends itself to wars and international conflicts. There is no doubt that this quest for control is not good for the heart. After all: How much of your heart can you control? Do you remember your first “crushes,” how they overwhelmed and consumed you? How much control did you have over them? The heart has its own drives, passions, and “reasons” and while it often wants to control (think of the 80s song where it is repeated “everybody wants to rule the world”), it is not itself at all controllable.
It’s an illusion that if we knew the map of our lives that we would be happier. The song “Que sera, sera, what will be will be, the future’s not our to see” actually is more true to life. Everything in us might want to see God’s face—know the big picture—see where we fit in—and so make peace with our lot, and just maybe let God off the hook. But that glory road is not granted us. It is a hard, painful lesson to learn that. And the only way that we can entrust our futures and lives into God’s gigantic care and heart is because the Lord promises to be gracious to whom he will be gracious and will show mercy on whom he will show mercy. But that means that God is merciful to you.
Some colleagues and I recently met with a church member who is active in world missions. He preaches in congregations in order to share with people about his outreach. In one message, he singled out an older women and asked her pointblank: for whom did Jesus die? She wanted to dodge this. Her answer: the world. The speaker pushed again. “Who?” Her answer: people. So, he kept at it, “yes, who, specifically?” “us” she said. She couldn’t spit out: “me. Jesus died for me.”
But friends in Christ, Jesus did die specifically for you. Just as God appeared to Moses in a way that wouldn’t destroy him, so God comes to you. God loves you so much that Christ bears all your sin away and buries it in a tomb where it will never to be found again. In Jesus, God shares in our human flesh and bone—created out of our dust—and is unafraid to become dust himself as he died on the cross. That little bit of dust placed on your forward on Ash Wednesday is a promise that God claims children of dust—men and women just like you—as his own and that death will never thwart his goodness to you.
God gives you this great gift when you were baptized and claimed by God and each time you go to the Lord ’s Supper. Christ's mercy is hidden yet present there. It is offered in no way that can be mapped, but only believed. And, it is enough. God’s mercy is enough for you—to sustain you. Like Moses you too will not yet see God face to face. That day is yet to come. But you will receive God’s mercy. And as you see God’s backside in such simple things as water, bread, wine, a preached word and absolution you can be assured that the Lord leads you forward in this life, through those cul-de-sacs, u-turns, and potholes and assures you that his mercy is enough for you to go on and go through. It’s really appropriate for you to have a backside God—it means that God is guiding you all through those things over which you have not control, where you have to walk by faith because you are not given sight. There will be a day when we meet our Lord face to face and be offered heavenly mansion. But that time is not yet.
For that reason, you too can be bold like Moses with God. God’s promises given with his protective hand—shielding you from a death-dealing tan—will keep and empower you this evening and forever. That you see God’s backside and not the whole road map to the cosmos is because God is leading you ever onward and forward. Behind him, with him, and in him your journey is safe. In a world in which mercy is not always given or received, God's mercy is for you.
Mark Mattes
Grand View University
Des Moines, IA
12Moses said to the Lord, “See, you say to me, ‘Bring up this people,’ but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.’ 13Now therefore, if I have found favor in your sight, please show me now your ways, that I may know you in order to find favor in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.” 14And he said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” 15And he said to him, “If your presence will not go with me, do not bring us up from here. 16For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people? Is it not in your going with us, so that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth?”
17And the Lord said to Moses, “This very thing that you have spoken I will do, for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.” 18Moses said, “Please show me your glory.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The Lord.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.” 21And the Lord said, “Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by. 23Then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back, but my face shall not be seen.”
Ever think you’ve had a bad day? Just think what Moses had to deal with: what would sanitation have been like for the children of Israel in their sojourn in the desert. It’s not as if there were port-a-potties, let alone running water in the desert. Remember all the clamor that the children of Israel had for food—and then they couldn’t stand the manna they were given. They were liberated men and women, freed slaves. You’d think they’d be grateful but instead all they did was complain. Sleeping in tents isn’t like sleeping at the Hilton. Why couldn’t God give us a 5 Star hotel to stay at? What’s the use of all the money that the Egyptians gave us—paying us off, if you will, just to get us out of Egypt: there’s no local mall to spend the wealth at. And on and on they went.
Part of why we have leaders or alphas is that they are paid to take the heat. Any alpha worth his or her salt loves to be in the limelight. But no alpha likes being responsible for all the complaints that people come up with. And the Bible doesn’t mince words about the children of Israel’s complaints. The children of Israel complain, whine, and murmur. You’d think God’s people would be beyond that sort of thing. But whining is what they do best. Whiners ever play the victim role. But, ironically, the children of Israel have it good: better off a free man or woman in the desert than a slave in Egypt. But oh do they want to return to the fleshpots there and enjoy the onions, leeks, and garlic they seasoned their mush with. Better that than this manna and quail day in and do out.
Any alpha can only take so much whining. Moses takes his concerns to God. Do you hear the give and take between God and Moses? Moses pushes God—he challenges God in ways that I wouldn’t think of challenging my boss! He shoves God’s promises right into God’s nose: “you’ve told me to lead—but you’ve given me no clue about who is going to help me.” “God, you’ve promised me that you’ll be true and bring us to the promised land, but how will I know you’ll be true to your word?” Really Moses? Do we, like you, have a status with God that I don’t even have with my boss? Who do you think you are to be so pushy with God?
And God can handle Moses’ pushiness. God doesn’t take it personally, get irate, or send a thunderbolt to stop Moses dead in his tracks. It’s not that God doesn’t respond, at times, with anger—but it would seem he can handle our unguarded and honest doubts. God simply reiterates: “my presence will go with you, and I will give your rest.” And here’s Moses, true to character, ever predictable, unable to switch to a different station: “What if? What if you don’t keep your promise? What if you don’t lead us? Wouldn’t that be shameful?”
And here’s God again—comforting Moses like a parent would comfort a child: “I’ll keep my word. You wait and see.” Even then, Moses ups the ante: God, show me your glory—show me what you’ve got. Prove it. Be transparent. Take off your mask. Once I see your glory, I’ll believe. No more questions, worries, or complaints after that. Just put it out there and I’ll be good. I’ll chill (as my own children would say).
Does God get mad at this? No; the Lord says, “okay. You want it; you’ve got it. I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name.” More importantly, God repeats what that name is all about: “I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.” But here’s the catch: you cannot see my face, for humans shall not see me and live.” God tells Moses that the glory of the Lord will pass by Moses. But the Lord will cover Moses while Moses is in the cleft of a rock. This protecting hand will shield him from God’s sheer power and glory. After God has passed by, Moses will be able to see God’s back but not the Lord's face.
Now, that might not be what Moses wanted—like a kid disappointed with gifts at Christmas—but that is what Moses will get.
When bad things and challenging things happen to us—when we deal with complaints like Moses did until our heads hurt and our stomachs churn—we like Moses run to God with “why?” “Why me?” has to be one of the most often asked questions over the millennia on this planet. We talk about God as having a plan and that we are a part of that plan. Many Evangelical Christians like to say, “God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life.” But when trouble comes our way—and it certainly will come—just as they came for Jeremiah, Isaiah, Moses, Paul, and even our dear Lord Jesus—we want God to unpack that plan. We want God to be transparent: show us the road map. Perhaps we ended up on a dirt road, or an icy road, or a cul-de-sac, or a road winding through a scary neighborhood, or a post-winter road where the potholes are so big they can swallow not just compact cars but also big trucks. God, if you’d just clue me in, I would be able to cope with my pain, hurt, fears, trauma, anxiety. So if I can’t cope with my problems, guess whose fault it is? God’s!
Now, according to the Bible, Moses was so intimate with God when he encountered God that some of God’s glory would rub off on Moses. So much so, that after visiting with God, Moses had to wear a veil to cover up that God-shine radiating off him. If second-hand glory could tan and blind the children of Israel, how much worse would be a bare naked encounter with God be? We think that it would be good for us to be clued into that big map of the cosmos and where we fit it—possibly we could offer God advice about how to run the world—but that’s God’s job, not ours. We are actors in the drama of life—we aren’t the playwright. That’s why God shields Moses, covers Moses with a protecting hand, so that that glory doesn’t engulf, burn, simmer, tan or fry Moses alive. That’s why we too—especially when we want to see God’s face—know the big plan—get only God’s backside.
We like maps. When Europeans first conquered this hemisphere, they set out to map it. That would guarantee their control. After the Louisiana Purchase, President Jefferson sent Lewis and Clark across the prairies, deserts, and mountains to the Pacific Ocean. That expedition began the process of mapping the North American west. Astronomers map the heavens and genome project geneticists map our biological codes. The more we know, presumably the more we can make life better. The more we are in control, the more life can flourish.
That would appear to be true about matters of business, industry, health, and the like. If we were honest, though, all that attempt for control lends itself to wars and international conflicts. There is no doubt that this quest for control is not good for the heart. After all: How much of your heart can you control? Do you remember your first “crushes,” how they overwhelmed and consumed you? How much control did you have over them? The heart has its own drives, passions, and “reasons” and while it often wants to control (think of the 80s song where it is repeated “everybody wants to rule the world”), it is not itself at all controllable.
It’s an illusion that if we knew the map of our lives that we would be happier. The song “Que sera, sera, what will be will be, the future’s not our to see” actually is more true to life. Everything in us might want to see God’s face—know the big picture—see where we fit in—and so make peace with our lot, and just maybe let God off the hook. But that glory road is not granted us. It is a hard, painful lesson to learn that. And the only way that we can entrust our futures and lives into God’s gigantic care and heart is because the Lord promises to be gracious to whom he will be gracious and will show mercy on whom he will show mercy. But that means that God is merciful to you.
Some colleagues and I recently met with a church member who is active in world missions. He preaches in congregations in order to share with people about his outreach. In one message, he singled out an older women and asked her pointblank: for whom did Jesus die? She wanted to dodge this. Her answer: the world. The speaker pushed again. “Who?” Her answer: people. So, he kept at it, “yes, who, specifically?” “us” she said. She couldn’t spit out: “me. Jesus died for me.”
But friends in Christ, Jesus did die specifically for you. Just as God appeared to Moses in a way that wouldn’t destroy him, so God comes to you. God loves you so much that Christ bears all your sin away and buries it in a tomb where it will never to be found again. In Jesus, God shares in our human flesh and bone—created out of our dust—and is unafraid to become dust himself as he died on the cross. That little bit of dust placed on your forward on Ash Wednesday is a promise that God claims children of dust—men and women just like you—as his own and that death will never thwart his goodness to you.
God gives you this great gift when you were baptized and claimed by God and each time you go to the Lord ’s Supper. Christ's mercy is hidden yet present there. It is offered in no way that can be mapped, but only believed. And, it is enough. God’s mercy is enough for you—to sustain you. Like Moses you too will not yet see God face to face. That day is yet to come. But you will receive God’s mercy. And as you see God’s backside in such simple things as water, bread, wine, a preached word and absolution you can be assured that the Lord leads you forward in this life, through those cul-de-sacs, u-turns, and potholes and assures you that his mercy is enough for you to go on and go through. It’s really appropriate for you to have a backside God—it means that God is guiding you all through those things over which you have not control, where you have to walk by faith because you are not given sight. There will be a day when we meet our Lord face to face and be offered heavenly mansion. But that time is not yet.
For that reason, you too can be bold like Moses with God. God’s promises given with his protective hand—shielding you from a death-dealing tan—will keep and empower you this evening and forever. That you see God’s backside and not the whole road map to the cosmos is because God is leading you ever onward and forward. Behind him, with him, and in him your journey is safe. In a world in which mercy is not always given or received, God's mercy is for you.
Mark Mattes
Grand View University
Des Moines, IA