Useless Flashlights and Brilliant Sunlight

I've written before about the time I went on a spelunking field trip in the eighth grade, and I'm going to revisit that story for a second. The most impressive part of the field trip was when we were all gathered on a rock shelf far, far back inside the cave, and the guide had the whole class turn off our flashlights, wrapping up in complete and total darkness. It was a surreal experience to wave my hand an inch from my eyes and have absolutely no visual cues that anything was happening. 

As a kid, I used to close my eyes and wonder what it was like to be blind, trying to put myself in the same place as those who suffered from the condition permanently. But always, outside light pressed through my closed lids. Or I'd go into a bathroom with the light off and the door shut. Still, a line of light shone beneath the closed entryway.

The cavern on the spelunking field trip was the first place I had ever experienced complete and total blackness. Despite knowing better, the irrational thought crept in: What if I never see light again?

Then... slowly, so our eyes could adjust, we began to turn our flashlights back on. The guide snapped his on first, shining it at the ceiling away from our eyes, but it was still nearly blinding. We squinted and blinked at the brilliance of the single flashlight. Eventually, we all turned our lights back on, and it seemed like daytime.

But... when we made our way out of the cave not long after that, though those lights were just as bright and intense as they had been on that rock shelf, as soon as we hit the light of day and emerged into the outside world again, I looked at the bulb in my flashlight to see if it was still on. I couldn't tell, because the light of day was so much more brilliant than the flashlight bulb.

The comparison, the difference was so drastic, I had to cup my hands around the head of my flashlight and peer into the semi-darkness to see, so I could know whether to turn my flashlight on or off.

In Exodus 34, Moses goes back to Mount Sinai for another forty days and forty nights. To recap: He's already done one forty day and forty night stint on the mountain with the Lord, and his time with God produced the first set of stone tablets with the Testimony (the Ten Commandments) carved into them. He'd returned to the camp, excited about the covenant God had set out for the Israelites, but when Moses gets close, he hears music and revelry, and he sees the whole camp participating in idol worship before a golden calf his own brother Aaron -- the high priest of God -- had constructed. 

And he's so mad, he smashes the tablets against the foot of the mountain, and they splinter into pieces. I don't know if he intends the splintering or not, but it serves as a powerful symbolic gesture: You've already broken the covenant by your actions.

So Moses has a talk with God where he pleads for the people. God listens and tells him to come back to the mountain, and He'll renew that covenant with the people.

Here Moses is for Take 2, back on the mountain, hungry and thirsty, with two new stone tablets, neatly inscribed with the covenant once again, which is nearly word-for-word with Take 1. This time, he stands directly in the Lord's presence in the cleft of the rock where the Lord passes by, covers him with His hand, and Moses sees God's back (see Following the Trench Coat from two days ago). 

And this time, when Moses returns to the camp, his face is shining with the reflective glory of being in the very presence of God. That glory is so bright that it terrifies the people, including his brother Aaron (who, notably, is not on the best of terms with either Moses or God at the moment). 

"When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the Testimony in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant, because he had spoken with the Lord. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, his face was radiant, and they were afraid to come near him. But Moses called to them, so Aaron and all the leaders of the community came back to him, and he spoke to them. Afterward all the Israelites came near him, and he gave them all the commands the Lord had given him on Mount Sinai. When Moses finished speaking to them, he put a veil over his face. But whenever he entered the Lord's presence to speak with Him, he removed the veil until he came out. And when he came out and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, they saw that his face was radiant. Then Moses would put the veil back over his face until he went in to speak with the Lord" (Exodus 34:29-35).

I understood for years that Moses had veiled his face to diminish the reflective glory of the Lord so that the Israelites could look at him, since it was so brilliant. I see now that I was mistaken; Moses spoke to the Israelites and "told them what he had been commanded" while his face was still radiant, and then he would put the veil back over his face until the next time he went to speak to the Lord.

Why is that important? 

How many times have you listened to a sermon, or an address, or a talk -- and sometimes you doze off or your mind wanders... and sometimes you're riveted, and you feel the presence of the Holy Spirit inside you saying: Look! Listen! This is for you!

I think this was a way of having the Israelites sit up, look, and listen. Hey, your leader is shining like the sun. You might want to pay attention to what he's got to say.

In 2 Corinthians 3:7-18, Paul gives us a vivid contrasting picture. He begins by reminding the Corinthian church of Moses' law: "Now if the ministry that brought death, which was engraved in letters on stone, came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, fading thought it was, will not the ministry of the Spirit be even more glorious?" (2 Corinthians 3:7-8)

Note that Paul is not saying that the old covenant God made with Moses was bad or evil (he says in Romans 7:12: "So then, the law is holy, and the commandment is holy, righteous, and good"), but is rather pointing to the fact that the people to whom the law was given were, by nature, lawbreakers, and it's on that precept that he lays his next cornerstone:

"If the ministry that condemns men is glorious, how much more glorious is the ministry that brings righteousness! For what was glorious has no glory now in comparison with the surpassing glory. And if what was fading away came with glory, how much greater is the glory of that which lasts!" (2 Corinthians 3:9-11)

How much more glorious is the light of the sun than that of a single flashlight? There's just no comparison. One, in the light of the other, is completely useless -- it has been so far surpassed.

What an object lesson the Lord used to span the centuries! Moses -- who veiled his face to keep the Israelites from seeing the fading glory that happened each time he stepped outside of the Lord's presence...

We -- who always show the glory of the Lord, because His presence lives in us, and we don't have to part from it! 

We don't have to leave the Tent of Meeting! 

"And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, Who is the Spirit" (2 Corinthians 3:18).

We get to walk in the light of the Son, always and always, and His radiance will never fade to darkness. How amazing is that? 

The song Amazing Grace has been around for centuries, and sometimes, because of its constant use in church circles, can feel like its impact has lessened. Don't let its message grow stale.

How amazing is the grace that allows Jesus, His Spirit -- the God Who created the whole universe -- to live inside these broken, cracked, clay, leaky vessels? How amazing is it that we can let His radiance, His glory, His treasure shine through us (2 Corinthians 4:7). How amazing is that grace?!