On Turning On The Lights In The Church Building
Sermon
Between Gloom and Glory
First Lesson Sermons For Advent/Christmas/Epiphany
Whenever I read from the book of Exodus, especially a text which includes a visit by Moses to the mountaintop to be in the presence of God, I get an image in my mind of Charlton Heston in the movie version of The Ten Commandments. I'll bet you have that problem too, don't you? It doesn't matter if you were born a decade or two since that movie was first released. It gets a lot of play on television, especially during "holy seasons" of the year like Easter.
The movie, which I must confess I actually enjoy, takes a few liberties with the biblical text. I guess Moses and the other biblical authors would not make very good screen writers. One of the problems with the image of Charlton Heston in that role is that it takes away the mystery of the encounter that Moses has with God. Oh, it is supposed to look mysterious in the movie. The make-up people have virtually soaked Heston's face in white powder in an attempt to give it a holy shine. They've blow-dried his wig so high and wide that he could easily play the role of the brother of the bride of Frankenstein. But the image is far short of anything remotely mysterious.
Today's story, though, is full of mystery and the unknown. Moses climbs to the top of Mount Sinai. It is covered with clouds. The clouds hide whatever is up there from the people below. God calls to Moses out of the cloud and reveals God's presence to him. The appearance of the glory of the Lord is like "a devouring fire." Like the images in Ezekiel, this experience is an intensely puzzling and unusual one. Moses enters the cloud and remains there forty days and forty nights.
Weird. Strange. Just what exactly is going on in this text? Moses ascends the mountain to receive the tablets of stone which have the law written upon them. Tradition says that these are the Ten Commandments. They have been written by God for the instruction of the people. While on the mountain, Moses receives the law, but he also spent forty days and nights in the presence of the glory of God. In other words, he received the law within the context of worship. We do not know all of what happened to Moses on that mountain (spiritual experiences are never easy to understand, especially when they happen to someone else), but we do know that he received the tablets of instruction while in the midst of a theophany. That is a word that simply means an encounter with God.
The implication of this story, then, is centered in the idea that the everyday experiences of our daily lives are grounded within the context of worship. We worship because we are in search of something holy. We gather together in the sanctuary or on the mountaintop or next to the ocean because we need to be reminded of the power of God in the world. I have a friend who says that he goes to church because he has a tendency to forget. If he doesn't attend worship regularly he begins to forget the things that matter the most. He likes to go to a church that shares in the weekly observance of the Lord's supper because in the breaking of the bread and the sharing from the cup he is reminded that God has come to us.
This story from Exodus relates how Moses became the mediator through which Israel encountered God. Moses was alone on the mountaintop with God, but what Moses teaches after this experience is the idea that God is present to the people through their worship. Of course, this is not the only way God is known, but in the context of Israel's history this is the place where the relationship between the worshiper and God begins to take shape. What had been an individual relationship between God and Moses is now, in Exodus 24, seeing the beginnings of a full relationship between God and God's people. Worship becomes the place where the people are provided strength and nourishment to live out their covenant with God. Worship is the place where the lives of the people are put back into focus.
When we turn on the lights in the sanctuary and say to those gathered outside, "Worship is about to begin, won't you please come in and join us," we are giving them and ourselves the opportunity to see symbolically what God wants to do in our lives. I have a friend in ministry who told me that he likes to leave the light that shines on the cross in their sanctuary turned on throughout the season of Easter. Their utility bill may go up a little bit, but he is subtly trying to remind his congregation and anyone who comes upon the sanctuary at night that the presence of God does not go away. Oh, it's not a belief locked in superstition. It's not the light switch that somehow controls God. But the symbol is a reminder that in the worship service we rediscover who we are in covenant with and how we are to live out that agreement in our daily existence.
Have you noticed that Moses had his mountaintop experience before putting his practical theology to work? After spending forty days and nights in what must have been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences any human has ever had, Moses then came down the mountain and began the hard work of interpreting everything he learned. Eventually, he established the rule and practice of Israelite worship and theology.
Moses' experience is not too different from our own. If you have had any kind of "mountaintop" experience you know that to be true. We always need to come down from the mountain and go back to the work in the valley. My friend Bob was ordained in a moving ceremony. Gathered at the little church where his faith had been nurtured were his mentors in ministry, his family, several denominational leaders, and many others. It was an incredible experience. There were tears but there was laughter too. There were shouts of joy and beautiful hymns of praise. He said of that day, "I was truly in the presence of God. There are no words that adequately describe how I was feeling." The worship service had been a powerful confirmation of his call to the ministry. He was clear about the direction his life needed to go.
The next day he was sitting in his office in the church where he had just begun as an associate minister. He was tired. The previous day's ceremony had left him exhausted. Lying in the middle of his desk was his ordination certificate. It proclaimed that he was "a minister in the church of Jesus Christ." He stared at it for a long minute then he said, out loud, "Oh, my God, what do I do now?" The glory of the previous day's worship had begun to fade.
His hands began to tremble. His heart pounded. He wondered if he really had a clue about what he had been called to do. He was about to break down and cry when there was a knock at the door. It was the church secretary. From behind the door he heard her say, "Uh, Bob, there is a problem in the men's room and I am not sure what to do." He got up and opened the door. He went over to check on the situation. In the men's room there was water everywhere. One of the toilets was backed up and flowing out onto the floor. The mess was, well, disgusting. Bob walked over to the kitchen, found a mop, wrapped his shoes up in plastic bags and trudged back into the deepening flood.
Then, miraculously, the glory returned. Standing there in the midst of that revolting muck it came to him: "This is what I am called to do. Whenever things get bad, whenever life doesn't work out the way we hoped it would, whenever death rears its ugly head, I am called to wade into it with the message of God's presence and never-ending love. This is what I am called to do."
That is why we turn the lights on in the sanctuary every week and invite people to join us in worship. We do it because we need to be reminded, in the midst of the glory of God, of what matters most. We need to hear the old stories of God's work and witness in the world as a reminder that God is in our midst, too. We need these stories in order to help us get through the day-to-day life we all share.
This is a day when another mountaintop experience is being celebrated. On Transfiguration Sunday we remember the story of Jesus on a high mountaintop. According to Mark's version, he is there with three of his disciples, Peter, James, and John. At the top of the mountain Elijah and Moses appear with Jesus. Jesus' clothes become dazzling white. A voice from heaven says, "This is my son, the Beloved; listen to him!" Like Moses' mountaintop experience on Mount Sinai, it is a mysterious and glorious event. There is so much symbolism we could spend a couple of hours just trying to decipher all the meanings and ideas being presented here.
Some Bible commentators think that story has been misplaced in Mark's Gospel. They believe that it is a post-resurrection story and belongs in the stories and events that occur after the cross. That would not make sense for Mark though. Mark is writing to a church that is in turmoil. He is writing to a post-Easter community which is going through difficult days. For him the glorified Christ, the one transfigured on this high mountain, is the one who moves toward the cross.
Fred Craddock points out that according to Mark there is the manifestation of Christ's glory, "and then the cross." Craddock goes on to say that "the cross is the end toward which the transfigured one moves. Easter is God's vindication of the one crucified...."1
Do you see what the message is for us from Exodus and Moses, from Mark and the transfiguration of Jesus? It is glory, then the cross. It is a mountaintop experience first, then a trip to the valley. It is his hymns of praise and the beauty of the Eucharist on Sunday and rush hour traffic at 7:30 a.m. on Monday. It is God's promise that the light will always be on in the house of worship. It is the promise of a future that will hold nothing but glory.
The apostle Paul knew about this experience too. "And all of us," he wrote to the church in Corinth, "... are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another."
If you're like my friend, who forgets about God after worship is over, you might have a little trouble remembering this message of God's glory during the week, so be sure to come back again next Sunday. We'll leave the lights on for you.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock and Ernest W, Saunders, Proclamation 2: Epiphany (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), p. 63.
The movie, which I must confess I actually enjoy, takes a few liberties with the biblical text. I guess Moses and the other biblical authors would not make very good screen writers. One of the problems with the image of Charlton Heston in that role is that it takes away the mystery of the encounter that Moses has with God. Oh, it is supposed to look mysterious in the movie. The make-up people have virtually soaked Heston's face in white powder in an attempt to give it a holy shine. They've blow-dried his wig so high and wide that he could easily play the role of the brother of the bride of Frankenstein. But the image is far short of anything remotely mysterious.
Today's story, though, is full of mystery and the unknown. Moses climbs to the top of Mount Sinai. It is covered with clouds. The clouds hide whatever is up there from the people below. God calls to Moses out of the cloud and reveals God's presence to him. The appearance of the glory of the Lord is like "a devouring fire." Like the images in Ezekiel, this experience is an intensely puzzling and unusual one. Moses enters the cloud and remains there forty days and forty nights.
Weird. Strange. Just what exactly is going on in this text? Moses ascends the mountain to receive the tablets of stone which have the law written upon them. Tradition says that these are the Ten Commandments. They have been written by God for the instruction of the people. While on the mountain, Moses receives the law, but he also spent forty days and nights in the presence of the glory of God. In other words, he received the law within the context of worship. We do not know all of what happened to Moses on that mountain (spiritual experiences are never easy to understand, especially when they happen to someone else), but we do know that he received the tablets of instruction while in the midst of a theophany. That is a word that simply means an encounter with God.
The implication of this story, then, is centered in the idea that the everyday experiences of our daily lives are grounded within the context of worship. We worship because we are in search of something holy. We gather together in the sanctuary or on the mountaintop or next to the ocean because we need to be reminded of the power of God in the world. I have a friend who says that he goes to church because he has a tendency to forget. If he doesn't attend worship regularly he begins to forget the things that matter the most. He likes to go to a church that shares in the weekly observance of the Lord's supper because in the breaking of the bread and the sharing from the cup he is reminded that God has come to us.
This story from Exodus relates how Moses became the mediator through which Israel encountered God. Moses was alone on the mountaintop with God, but what Moses teaches after this experience is the idea that God is present to the people through their worship. Of course, this is not the only way God is known, but in the context of Israel's history this is the place where the relationship between the worshiper and God begins to take shape. What had been an individual relationship between God and Moses is now, in Exodus 24, seeing the beginnings of a full relationship between God and God's people. Worship becomes the place where the people are provided strength and nourishment to live out their covenant with God. Worship is the place where the lives of the people are put back into focus.
When we turn on the lights in the sanctuary and say to those gathered outside, "Worship is about to begin, won't you please come in and join us," we are giving them and ourselves the opportunity to see symbolically what God wants to do in our lives. I have a friend in ministry who told me that he likes to leave the light that shines on the cross in their sanctuary turned on throughout the season of Easter. Their utility bill may go up a little bit, but he is subtly trying to remind his congregation and anyone who comes upon the sanctuary at night that the presence of God does not go away. Oh, it's not a belief locked in superstition. It's not the light switch that somehow controls God. But the symbol is a reminder that in the worship service we rediscover who we are in covenant with and how we are to live out that agreement in our daily existence.
Have you noticed that Moses had his mountaintop experience before putting his practical theology to work? After spending forty days and nights in what must have been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences any human has ever had, Moses then came down the mountain and began the hard work of interpreting everything he learned. Eventually, he established the rule and practice of Israelite worship and theology.
Moses' experience is not too different from our own. If you have had any kind of "mountaintop" experience you know that to be true. We always need to come down from the mountain and go back to the work in the valley. My friend Bob was ordained in a moving ceremony. Gathered at the little church where his faith had been nurtured were his mentors in ministry, his family, several denominational leaders, and many others. It was an incredible experience. There were tears but there was laughter too. There were shouts of joy and beautiful hymns of praise. He said of that day, "I was truly in the presence of God. There are no words that adequately describe how I was feeling." The worship service had been a powerful confirmation of his call to the ministry. He was clear about the direction his life needed to go.
The next day he was sitting in his office in the church where he had just begun as an associate minister. He was tired. The previous day's ceremony had left him exhausted. Lying in the middle of his desk was his ordination certificate. It proclaimed that he was "a minister in the church of Jesus Christ." He stared at it for a long minute then he said, out loud, "Oh, my God, what do I do now?" The glory of the previous day's worship had begun to fade.
His hands began to tremble. His heart pounded. He wondered if he really had a clue about what he had been called to do. He was about to break down and cry when there was a knock at the door. It was the church secretary. From behind the door he heard her say, "Uh, Bob, there is a problem in the men's room and I am not sure what to do." He got up and opened the door. He went over to check on the situation. In the men's room there was water everywhere. One of the toilets was backed up and flowing out onto the floor. The mess was, well, disgusting. Bob walked over to the kitchen, found a mop, wrapped his shoes up in plastic bags and trudged back into the deepening flood.
Then, miraculously, the glory returned. Standing there in the midst of that revolting muck it came to him: "This is what I am called to do. Whenever things get bad, whenever life doesn't work out the way we hoped it would, whenever death rears its ugly head, I am called to wade into it with the message of God's presence and never-ending love. This is what I am called to do."
That is why we turn the lights on in the sanctuary every week and invite people to join us in worship. We do it because we need to be reminded, in the midst of the glory of God, of what matters most. We need to hear the old stories of God's work and witness in the world as a reminder that God is in our midst, too. We need these stories in order to help us get through the day-to-day life we all share.
This is a day when another mountaintop experience is being celebrated. On Transfiguration Sunday we remember the story of Jesus on a high mountaintop. According to Mark's version, he is there with three of his disciples, Peter, James, and John. At the top of the mountain Elijah and Moses appear with Jesus. Jesus' clothes become dazzling white. A voice from heaven says, "This is my son, the Beloved; listen to him!" Like Moses' mountaintop experience on Mount Sinai, it is a mysterious and glorious event. There is so much symbolism we could spend a couple of hours just trying to decipher all the meanings and ideas being presented here.
Some Bible commentators think that story has been misplaced in Mark's Gospel. They believe that it is a post-resurrection story and belongs in the stories and events that occur after the cross. That would not make sense for Mark though. Mark is writing to a church that is in turmoil. He is writing to a post-Easter community which is going through difficult days. For him the glorified Christ, the one transfigured on this high mountain, is the one who moves toward the cross.
Fred Craddock points out that according to Mark there is the manifestation of Christ's glory, "and then the cross." Craddock goes on to say that "the cross is the end toward which the transfigured one moves. Easter is God's vindication of the one crucified...."1
Do you see what the message is for us from Exodus and Moses, from Mark and the transfiguration of Jesus? It is glory, then the cross. It is a mountaintop experience first, then a trip to the valley. It is his hymns of praise and the beauty of the Eucharist on Sunday and rush hour traffic at 7:30 a.m. on Monday. It is God's promise that the light will always be on in the house of worship. It is the promise of a future that will hold nothing but glory.
The apostle Paul knew about this experience too. "And all of us," he wrote to the church in Corinth, "... are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another."
If you're like my friend, who forgets about God after worship is over, you might have a little trouble remembering this message of God's glory during the week, so be sure to come back again next Sunday. We'll leave the lights on for you.
____________
1. Fred B. Craddock and Ernest W, Saunders, Proclamation 2: Epiphany (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1981), p. 63.
