Encounter with the God of Abraham

 

Then Moses said to God, ‘I am to go, then, to the sons of Israel and say to them, “The God of your fathers has sent me to you.” But if they ask me what his name is, what am I to tell them?’ And God said to Moses, ‘I Am who I Am.’

Exodus 3:14 - 15

In the epic that is the book of Exodus, the mountain-top encounter between Moses and the God of his ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is one of the pivotal moments of the Hebrew scriptures.

In this pericope, a typical biblical calling narrative, Moses, while looking down on his father-in-law’s flock, sees a burning bush that is not being consumed by the flames. As he approaches he hears a voice emanating from the blazing bush. It is the voice of God. Gods (with a lower case g) were many in the ancient near east, but the Hebrew people had maintained their fidelity to the God of their forebears long into their exile in Egypt. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob had heard their plea, and he had chosen Moses to set them free. Moses was acutely aware of his limitations, he had a stutter, he was unsure how he was to convince the Hebrews to follow him. Moses wanted to be able to tell the Hebrew who exactly had sent him, and it is to this question that voice from the unconsumed bush revealed his name: I AM WHO I AM – represented as the tetragrammaton, YHWH, which we say as Yahweh.

This is the beginning of a story that is critical to Israel’s identity – the slavery, the liberation from bondage, the establishment of the covenant and the gift of the Law, memorialized in the Passover and linked intimately to Last Supper and the Paschal mystery which is the cornerstone of our Christian faith.

There is a voice in a burning bush calling each of us. It will happen just as it did for Moses, while we are about our work and everyday life. It will be a person, a situation, an intuition, a need, and if we listen as Moses listened, if we hear as Moses heard then we will discern the right response. You may not liberate a nation, but you may help set someone free from loneliness and bereavement, you may not perform miracles of nature, but you may provide comfort and compassion, you might not seek manna from heaven, but you may give generously to charity and those in need.

And yes, we may have difficulties of our own, people might not believe our motivation. The proof is to be armed with faith, to know that the God of our ancestors walks with us, that we will be provided with the courage to respond. And again, this Lenten season invites us to the burning bush, inviting us to make a leap of faith

Seeing the face of God

 

Jesus took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray. As he prayed, the aspect of his face was changed and his clothing became brilliant as lightning. Suddenly there were two men there talking to him; they were Moses and Elijah appearing in glory, and they were speaking of his passing which he was to accomplish in Jerusalem.

Luke 9:28 – 32

There are moments in our lives that are totally transformative. They are moments of inspiration, realization, acceptance, unveiling, creativity, or ecstasy. It is at these junctures that we move from one understanding or perception to another: the change may well be graduated, or instantaneous. But the effect is the same. The person I was before this change was effected is in some subtle or less than subtle way made anew.

Falling in love, seeing your newborn child, sending your children off to university, becoming a grandparent, losing a partner and even death itself generates that transition from one state to another. Our lives are punctuated and perhaps even measured by such experiences, they may equally be highlights or lowlights, full of pleasure or pain, self-revealing or disclaiming, gentle or explosive, tragic or comic. It can lead us to grow and it can lead us to withdraw. It is what we make of that moment, that experience, that learning that will enable us to truly be transformed.

The story of the Transfiguration appears in each of the synoptic Gospels. It is a story utterly drenched in images, symbols and metaphors. It is an encounter between man and God (akin to Moses on Mt Sinai), the bridging between heaven and earth, the present reality with the future expectation. It is not only about what happens to Jesus, it is about what happens to the disciples who are shaken from their weariness and most imperatively, about happens to me when I am face to face with the glory of God. Thus the transfiguration becomes a deep, transforming experience for those disciples, for they have seen, but must now listen (Listen to him) and with this a revelation of Jesus’ ultimate mission, the breaking open of the kingdom here on earth with him as the bridge to eternal life. Moses’ and Elijah’s presence are the assurance that the faithful will be rewarded.

In our neighbours, in our streets and towns, in places far from our own we encounter the face of God. Not a God of glory, but most often a God of suffering and hurt, hunger and destitution. If I am called to anything in this transfiguration story, it is to allow others to be transformed through my actions, my faith in them, in my compassion – and allow others to see beyond the “me” and to look into the face of that God of glory.

Seeking Lent

We enter Lent marked on our foreheads with the sign of the cross, with ash that symbolises our humanity, our fleeting and transitory lives, declaring our dependence on God’s love. The psalmist expresses his absolute confidence in Psalm 91, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust’.

For centuries the rhythm of the seasons was reflected in the life of the church and its celebrations. The sparseness of winter leading to spring made the church’s season of Lent accessible, Christmas was celebrated on the old Roman winter solstice. In our world where food and drink remains plentiful the year round, it is difficult to make sense of these seasons or think beyond wrapped Christmas presents and chocolate eggs. The growing disconnectedness we have to the wax and wane of the four seasons is equally mirrored in our alienation from the church, from its religious, theological and liturgical language and actions.

Lent then can bring a new opportunity for you – even if it comprises stolen moments of quiet and reflection. But ask yourself:

• What – right now – are my deepest needs?
• Who and what are most important in my life?
• How can I make myself more available to do the things that I ought to do?
• Does the church in its wisdom and love have something to assist me?

Growing into who we are

In the frantic and busy lives of our families, it can be difficult to get a measure of our own gifts, let alone the gifts of our spouses and children. It can be quite an eye-opening experience to hear people talk about your gifts or your children’s – ‘Is this my son?’ ‘Are they really talking about me?’

My two sons are teachers. They’re great teachers, so I’m told – and that’s from their principals. Are these the hyperactive kids who zapped through our lives and drove us crazy? Well, yes they are. Seeing what is right in front of our own eyes can be obscured by the closeness of our relationships. Try and remember conversations your aunts had about various relatives – as if they could foresee how everyone would turnout!

From the liturgy this week the Gospel (Mark 6:1 – 6) tells the story of how Jesus returned home and on the Sabbath taught in the local synagogue.  His old neighbours and relatives were astonished: Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary? The consequence of which was that Jesus was unable to perform any mighty deeds there because of the lack of faith.

A staff member recently attended a school reunion on the northwest, and the surprises and not-so-surprising stories that emanated from the lives of old school friends found ready ears. Reunions are great opportunities to evaluate our own achievements, to acknowledge the success of our peers, to reacquaint, to remember. We see latent talent blossom into enterprise, emerging gifts become surgeon’s hands, inquisitive minds flying jet planes, inventive ingenuity creating farming implements and nascent tenderness leading to devoted parenthood.

The true measure of who we are and what we are capable of becoming is seen through the eyes of faith, and having those who love us, nurture us and teach us, believe in us, to have dreams and ambitions for us that will be unfettered and liberating.

If we choose to realize the potential in others, in our children or spouse or friends, we must learn to have faith and be faithful so that mighty deeds will be performed in every home, in every classroom and workplace. And, not for a moment should we underestimate the power of God.