St. Paul’s United Methodist Church
Exodus 34: 29-35, Rev. Marianne Niesen, February 14, 2010
Today’s scripture text finds the Israelites in the midst of their desert wanderings. Their leader, Moses, had gone up the mountain to speak with God and to receive the law but when he came back down he found that his people, growing impatient with what proved to be a long wait, had made a mess of things. In fact, the guy Moses had left in charge, Aaron, had actually led the Hebrew people into the riotous revelry of golden calf worship. In the midst of the debauchery Moses returned. In his outrage over what he was seeing, Moses actually smashed the tablets God had given him and ordered a bloody retribution. When it was over, Moses returned to the mountain to confer again with God - seeking a way that he might right the terrible wrongs that the people had done. Moses once again climbed Sinai, this time staying "with the Lord" for 40 days and 40 nights. Our text today begins when he finally came back to his guilt-ridden, anxious people. (Exodus 34: 29-35)
So, Moses, once again returned from his conversation with God. He had in his arms a replacement set of the law. But, isn’t it interesting that even though these tablets contained God's own words of commandment and covenant, the text hardly even notes their existence? Instead the text focuses - as the eyes of those watching focused - on Moses' face. He was shining, radiant, glowing. The text notes something about a veil - and scholars aren’t really sure what the veil description is supposed to mean. But everyone is clear that Moses was visibly changed by his encounter with God. Perhaps some of you have seen Michelangelo’s great marble statue of Moses. If not, let me share a picture of it here. (Project Moses #1) Michelangelo portrayed Moses as commanding, strong - clutching the law. You’ll also notice that on his head he has two small horns. (Project Moses #2) Those really are horns! That was not a not peculiar hair style of the day. In older manuscripts of Exodus, the verb ‘shone’ in verse 29 was translated as ‘horned’ and that was apparently the translation Michelangelo had available. (By the way, that translation led to the terrible anti-semitic belief that all Jews had horns.) (Project Chagall) Marc Chagall, on the other hand, in portraying Moses seems to have been conflicted . . . Moses you’ll notice in his paintings sports shining horns - shafts of light. To be honest, there is far more discussion among the scholars about the verb used here than even I am interested in! But, what is agreed on is that Moses was outwardly, visibly, shockingly changed by his encounter with God on the mountain. From that time on, reflecting the glory of God, Moses formed a people, led them for 40 years through the desert and, eventually, got them to the promised land, where God meant them to be all along.
You might notice a theme. Moses spent 40 days and 40 nights on the mountain. The Israelites< spent 40 years wandering in the desert. Jesus, before he began his public ministry spent 40 days in the desert. And, this Wednesday, we embark on our Lenten journey which is - yes - 40 days long. The number is significant. Forty becomes symbolic of a time of transformation, a transformation that is meant to be visibly reflected in our lives. I think one of the greatest challenges for us as people of faith is the challenge that we shine, that we visibly reflect the love of God. And, what is wonderful about this ‘glowing’ task is that we can do it anywhere, at any time. The Israelites did it in the desert. We do it here. It does not require a special degree or special training. It does not cost money. It is simply a way of living that allows the love of God to shine forth. In fact, that was the point of the tablets of law that Moses received in the first place - they were ‘shining orders!’ I have come to understand Lent as a season for taking stock of how we are doing in our God-given task to glow, to reflect, to be the shining love of God on earth.
Speaking of love . . . today, as you well know, is Valentine’s Day. We know it as a day to give cards, candy and flowers to someone we love. Though it is commercialized, it is not a bad day overall. And its roots are in the story of a shining example of God’s grace - a man named Valentine. There are various stories about Valentine and, in fact, we think there were at least 2 ‘Valentines’ who died at around the same time and whose lives reflect the spirit we have come to associate with Valentine’s Day.
One of these Valentines was probably a Roman Priest or Bishop of the Christian faith. He was also a physician and practiced his trade from his house. He was said to cure the sick of ailments, giving them special medicines or ointments. They say he did his healing work out of the goodness of his heart, sometimes refusing any payment. As the story goes, one day the local jailer bought his blind daughter to see Valentine, hoping for a healing for her. Valentine rubbed an ointment on her eyes and told the jailer to bring her back once a week for continuing treatment. Before any healing occurred, however, Valentine was arrested, jailed and condemned to death for his Christian faith. The jailer was powerless to help. Moments before Valentine was to be executed, he asked for a piece of paper so he could leave a message for the jailer’s daughter. On it, he was said to have written "from your Valentine." Some stories say that inside the paper there was a blossom which healed the girl.
The second Valentine was also a priest. At the time, Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage for his young soldiers. It seems he was having trouble sending some of his men to war because their wives lobbied against it. So Claudius decided that if they weren’t married at all, he’d have less trouble getting them to concentrate on war rather than love. Valentine, however, contrary to the wishes of the emperor, continued to marry young lovers. He was arrested and executed for the crime of performing marriages. The date was Feb. 14, 270.
To be honest, both of those stories are mostly legend. But, as is often true with legends, there was probably someone or ones whose dedication to healing or to ministry in the midst of injustice inspired others in such a way that it became kindling for our Valentine’s Day. In a sense, that is what happens when we live lives that shine . . . we do our best - but, in the end, what happens is beyond us. Bishop Valentine did what he could to lessen suffering and foster love in the world and it made a difference. Those who reflect the love of God often have no idea where it ends up and that’s how it is supposed to be. I doubt if Moses ever expected that someone would think he had horns. But, even if he could have seen into the future, I doubt it would have mattered because when we focus on reflecting the love of God, it doesn’t much matter how we look.
There are countless stories of people who lived shining lives. As part of your Lenten practice this year, I encourage you to take some time to read a book or see a movie about such lives. Invictus, showing at the Myrna Loy, would be a good place to start. I’ve just finished Mitch Albom’s newest book Have a Little Faith. That’s also a good option. Albom’s childhood rabbi asked him to do his eulogy. Having separated himself somewhat from his faith, Albom was a bit taken aback by the task but his ties to the man and his respect for him, led him to agree to the task. The book is his record of his conversations with the “Reb.” Albom writes . . . .
I often wonder why the Reb asked me for a eulogy. I wonder if it was more for me than for him. The fact is, he trumped it moments later. Just before the cantor began the final prayer, the Reb’s grandson, Ron, popped a cassette tape into a player on the pulpit. And over the same speakers where Albert Lewis’s voice used to ring out in wisdom, it rang out once more.
Dear friends, this is the voice of your past rabbi speaking . . .
He had recorded a message to be played upon his death . . . it was brief.
But in it, the Reb answered the two questions he had most been asked in his life of faith.
One was whether he believed in God. He said he did.
The other was whether there is life after death.
On this he said, My answer here, too, is yes . . . but friends, I’m sorry. Now that I know, I can’t even tell you!
The whole place broke up laughing.
And then, Mitch asks the reader: Have you ever known a man of faith? Did you run the other way? If so, stop running. Maybe sit for a minute. For a glass of ice water. For a plate of corn bread. You may find there is something beautiful to learn, and it doesn’t bite you and it doesn’t weaken you, it only proves a divine spark lies inside each of us, and that spark may one day save the world. Albom’s advice is good. Shining lives inspire us to shine ourselves, to let our divine spark glow in our particular part of the world. God knows we need more brightness!
Today we celebrate Mardi Gras which is traditionally the last big celebration before what is traditionally the somber reflective season of Lent. But I dare us all to look at it another way. Let’s celebrate with beads and jazz and kazoos and laughter and fun today because we get to embark on this wonderful journey which can help us learn better how to show off . . . how to show off the love
of God . . . how to shine goodness in the face of evil . . . hope in the face of despair . . . life in the midst
of death. That’s something to celebrate indeed! From the Reb . . .
It is summer and we are sitting in his office.
I ask him why he thinks he became a rabbi. He counts on his fingers.
Number one, I always liked people.
Number two, I love gentleness.
Number three, I have patience.
Number four, I love teaching.
Number five, I am determined in my faith.
Number six, it connects me to my past.
Number seven - and lastly - it allows me to fulfill the message of our tradition:
to live good, to do good, and to be blessed.
I didn’t hear God in there. He smiles.
God was there before number one.
Friends, we too stand in that tradition. And as we ‘live good, do good and are blessed’ we can show off the love of this God of ours who was there before all f our ‘number ones’ as well.
