It's Not About Me - Max Lucado [5]
“Show me your glory, God,” Moses begs. Forget a bank; he wants to see Fort Knox. He needs a walk in the vault of God’s wealth. Would you stun me with your strength? Numb me with your wisdom? Steal my breath with a brush of yours? A moment in the spray of the cataract of grace, a glimpse of your glory, God. This is the prayer of Moses.
And God answers it. He places his servant in the cleft of a rock, telling Moses:“You cannot see My face; for no man shall see Me, and live. . . . I . . . will cover you with My hand while I pass by. Then I will take away My hand, and you shall see My back; but My face shall not be seen” (Exodus 33:20, 22-23 NKJV).
And so Moses, cowering beneath the umbrella of God’s palm, waits, surely with face bowed, eyes covered, and pulse racing, until God gives the signal.When the hand lifts, Moses’ eyes do the same and catch a distant, disappearing glance of the back parts of God.The heart and center of the Maker is too much for Moses to bear.A fading glimpse will have to do. I’m seeing the long gray hair of Moses wind-whipped forward and his leathery hand grabbing a rock in the wall lest he fall. And as the gust settles and his locks rest again on his shoulders, we see the impact. His face. Gleaming. Bright as if backlit by a thousand torches. Unknown to Moses, but undeniable to the Hebrews, is his shimmering face. When he descended the mountain,“the sons of Israel could not look intently at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face” (2 Corinthians 3:7).
Witnesses saw, not anger in his jaw, or worry in his eyes, or a scowl on his lips; they saw God’s glory in his face.
Did he have reason for anger? Cause for worry? Of course. Challenges await him. A desert and forty years of great challenges. But now, having seen God’s face, he can face them.
Forgive my effrontery, but shouldn’t Moses’ request be yours? You’ve got problems. Look at you. Living in a dying body, walking on a decaying planet, surrounded by a self-centered society. Some saved by grace; others fueled by narcissism. Many of us by both. Cancer. War. Disease.
These are no small issues. A small god? No thanks. You and I need what Moses needed—a glimpse of God’s glory. Such a sighting can change you forever.
In the early pages of my childhood memory, I see this picture. My father and I sit side by side in a chapel.We both wear our only suits.The shirt collar rubs my neck; the pew feels hard to my bottom; the sight of my dead uncle leaves us all silent. This is my first funeral. My nine years of life have not prepared me for death. What I see unnerves me. Aunts, typically jovial and talkative, weep loudly. Uncles, commonly quick with a word and joke, stare wide eyed at the casket. And Buck, my big uncle with meaty hands, big belly, and booming voice, lies whitish and waxy in the coffin.
YOU AND I NEED
WHAT MOSES NEEDED—
A GLIMPSE OF
GOD’S GLORY.
I remember my palms moistening and my heart bouncing in my chest like tennis sneakers in a clothes dryer. Fear had me in her talons. What other emotion could I feel? Where do I look? The weeping ladies frighten me. Glassy-eyed men puzzle me. My dead uncle spooks me. But then I look up. I see my father.
He turns his face toward me and smiles softly. “It’s okay, son,” he assures, laying a large hand on my leg. Somehow I know it is.Why it is, I don’t know. My family still wails. Uncle Buck is still dead. But if Dad, in the midst of it all, says it’s okay, then that’s enough.
At that moment I realized something. I could look around and find fear, or look at my father and find faith.
I chose my father’s face.
So did Moses.
So can you.
CHAPTER THREE
DIVINE SELF-PROMOTION
3
Moses asked to see it on Sinai.
It billowed through the temple, leaving priests too stunned to minister.
When Ezekiel saw it, he had to bow.
It encircled the angels and starstruck the shepherds in the Bethlehem pasture.
Jesus radiates it.
John beheld it.
Peter