As Moses came down from Mount Sinai
with the two tablets of the commandments in his hands,
he did not know that the skin of his face had become radiant
while he conversed with the LORD.
When Aaron, then, and the other children of Israel saw Moses
and noticed how radiant the skin of his face had become,
they were afraid to come near him.
There is something intimidating, fascinating, and mysterious about goodness. When we meet really good people -- people who demonstrate heroic generosity and kindness, people for instance who readily enter forbidden places like prisons, jails, dangerous neighborhoods, and hostile countries -- we wonder how they come by such courage, even as we decline their gracious offers to go with them.
Or we may read about monks and nuns who never leave their monasteries but remain confined to their chapels, studies, and enclosed gardens. As inviting as that peaceful place might sound, we don't want to go there for more than a few hours; or perhaps, a weekend. We might like it too much; we might not be able to come out. Or we might not be able to stand it.
Professionally religious people often encounter that hesitation upon meeting strangers, as do lay folks who are known to frequent holy places. I have not found it helpful to try to prove I'm a regular guy. If I know as much as anyone about certain profane or secular matters that are the stuff of ordinary life, I don't have to demonstrate it. Perhaps there is some hidden value in being seen or treated as extraordinary despite my personal misgivings.
Moses -- whose explosive temper once killed a man, who could complain with the whiniest of his followers-- was set apart from his people by his intimacy with the LORD. He had to suffer that isolation even as he showed them what God is like by his ferocious leadership and quiet humility. The world still needs people like him, and they expect you and I to fill the bill.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.