Grace to you and peace from God
our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is Rev.
21:22-27.
The hot rocks burned against
Moses’ cheek and the sharp stone dug into his bearded skin. He desperately wanted
to see Who was behind him, but when he tried to move, the hand holding his face
against rocks pressed even harder. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it wasn’t
comfortable, either. Moses was helpless. All he could see was the stone of the
mountain, inches from his eyes.
God had even declared, “I know you
by name and you have found favor in my sight.” Moses humbly requested so that he
might continue to find favor in God’s sight, Moses wanted the assurance of seeing
God’s presence, His face, His glory. He would know what God was like. He wanted
to know face-to-face whom he was serving.
God, in His mercy, could not grant Moses’ desire. “No one can see my
face and live,” he had told Moses. So, God did the next best thing. He would
allow Moses to see his back, to receive a glimpse of God. After God passed by
Moses, when His countenance – his frontal, facial profile – passed by, only
then did God release Moses’ head from the side of the mountain. Moses was able
to see God’s back. He couldn’t see God’s face, but the back, the back of God
was enough.
I empathize with Moses because
there are days I wish I could see God’s physical presence, too; that I could
know His face and His glory. I suspect most pastors have this wish – not because
we’re selfish or we think we deserve a special audience. Frankly, my desire is out
of weakness, more than anything else. In a sense, pastors follow in the
footsteps of Moses, pastoring this flock of Zion, and do a lot of Moses-like
things: praying for God’s people; encouraging and supporting in this journey where
faith and life intersect – sometimes on a crash course; reading, studying and
interpreting God’s Word for His people and with His people; walking alongside in
sickness and in health, in life and even to death. Don’t get me wrong: it’s a
joy – truly – to be a pastor and to serve in this place.
But there are days… When life
comes heavy for me, and I see the hurt and loss and pain you endure; when I doubt
my faithfulness in this vocation; when a sermon isn’t coming, or when a discussion
is tense, or when I have to speak a hard word of Law against a brother or
sister in Christ. And when I make a mistake – or, to be more blunt – when I sin
against my wife, my kids, against you and I do what I want instead of what God
would have and that’s when I realize just how Moses-like I am. In those
moments, when I feel low, discouraged, and a failure in this vocation, in those
moments I wish I could see God face-to-face and hear a word…just a word…of
encouragement.
And I don’t think I am alone. I
suspect you feel this way at times, too, in your places, in your homes, in your
workplaces, in your vocations. If I dare claim a parallel between myself and
Moses, you can certainly claim a parallel between yourself and Israel. If you
could just see God – just for a moment – then you would know it’s going to be OK.
So, you come to the Lord’s House
on a Sunday because you, like Moses, need to see God. You need to know that God
knows you by name and you have favor in His sight. But how can you dare
approach God to see Him?
Like those ancient Galilleans who
pleaded with Phillip, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” With the burdens of life
weighing on you, you come to this holy house, joined by fellow sinners who,
likewise, need to see Jesus. You know that your sins separate you from God because
they are detestable in His eyes. You, like Moses, cannot see God and live. But you
come…you come, repenting of what you have done against your spouse and your
kids and your neighbor, while trusting, in faith, that there is One who died
for you and gave Himself for you to redeem, save, to sanctify and make you holy
so that you can see God.
And here, you do see a glimpse of
God. You hear the Word read and preached that declares sin to be forgiven in
Christ. You see the font and remember you have been washed clean of your sins,
your name changed from sinner to saint, from unclean to Christian. You touch
and taste the body and blood of Christ which was given and shed for you for the
forgiveness of sins and the strengthening of faith in Him as your Savior.
By God’s grace, through faith in
Christ, we know and believe that this is true. But we also know that we are
seeing the picture through eyes that are still covered with the cataracts of
fallen people and can only see God through the glaucoma of a fallen world.
Think of a little girl who dresses
up in her mommy’s nice dress, puts on all of her costume jewelry, and lets her
feet fall into her mommy’s shoes and then pretends to be a beautiful princess
bride. She’s pretending, yes – but she’s looking forward to the day of her
wedding. That’s a picture of faith. It’s a picture of what we, as the church,
are looking forward to.
John was the last of the
apostles. The other eleven had all been martyred. The physical church, which is
to say, the people of God, were being scattered across the world, persecuted
and prosecuted because of the name of Jesus. He, John, was isolated, exiled to
the land of Patmos. With prayers for the churches scattered and for the people
of God who clung to the name of Jesus, the Holy Spirit allowed John to see this
picture – both for the strengthening of his own spirit, but also for yours and
mine as well.
St. John reminds us in this
morning’s Epistle that the day is soon coming when we will see Jesus face-to-face.
But before we see Him, He sees us: the church – not as a ragtag, scattered
mishmash of people who struggle through this world, but as a beautifully adorned
bride. She is claimed by her husband, Christ, who takes her and makes her His. She
is washed and made holy in the blood of the Lamb and, just as a bride is
adorned and covered with beautiful garments, the Church is adorned with the
glory of Christ. Jesus’ glory is so overwhelming, so overcoming, so overpowering
that the Church shines with the radiance of His splendor, as if she were the
most precious, beautiful jewel you could possibly imagine. The Church is Christ’s
bride; Christ is the Church’s Bridegroom.
And, here, united with Christ,
the Church will see God. Not His back, mind you, but you are able to see Him
wholly and holy. The entirety of heaven, in the resurrection, centers around
the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb. The Father and the Son, together, who is
worshipped and glorified on earth will shine with such radiance and glory in
the resurrection that we will no longer need the light of the sun.
In the resurrection, you will be
able to see God and live because you will no longer be sinners and saints. You will be only saint,
holied in the holiness of the Bridegroom. You – unlike Moses – will not need to
have your face shoved into the stone wall, hoping for just a glimpse of God’s
back. You will see God and you will live into eternity with Him.
Earlier, I said we sometimes feel
that if you could just see God – just for a moment – then you would know it’s
going to be OK. But, we were left with the conundrum: But how can you dare
approach God to see Him?
God comes to you face-forward. He
doesn’t hide Himself. In fact – I’ve always considered this fascinating – God blesses
His people with His face. We call it “The Benediction.” In a demonstration of
His mercy and grace, God places His face, His countenance, on His people. So when
you need to see God’s face, so you know that He faces toward you, so you know He
is kindly and mercifully disposed toward you, He gives this blessing:
The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you His peace.
The Lord make His face to shine upon you and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you His peace.
Amen.
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