“And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory are being transfigured into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” ~Romans 3:18
Moses’ presence with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration takes the disciple right back to the revelation of God’s glory to Moses in Exodus 34. The people were terrified by the sight of Moses’ radiant face. They were afraid to come near him. They were afraid of the glory of the Lord. So Moses wore a veil until it faded away.
It’s different now.
The veils are off.
As a result of Jesus’ suffering and death and resurrection, because of his saving work that reconciles man back to the Father, we’re not afraid. God’s glory doesn’t blind us, it doesn’s scare us. In fact, it’s being given to us, it’s being shared with us, it’s changing us. As we are transfigured into the image of the Christ, as we become more and more like him, as we deny ourselves and take up our crosses and follow in his footsteps the path of sacrifice and service, we become partakers in that heavenly glory.
That is our hope. That is our promise. In our sufferings and service here in the world, by the One who was crucified in weakness yet lives today in power, we are being transfigured into the glorious likeness of the Son of God.
In glory. With the same glory. With unveiled faces.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m going into Advance Mode right now. The Legacy Men’s Advance, “In The Trenches,” begins in nine hours. So from now until late Saturday afternoon, you must refer to me by my paintball-soldier-warrior name.
“The Pastor of Disaster”
Thank you.
“Pastor of Disaster” – did the buzzer go off while someone said “Rock Me” in a fake Skip Bayless voice when you typed that?
How’s Theodore doing? Just an innocent question (if a question can truly be innocent). No attempt to draw you offsides or incur blogging barbs or semantical musings on innocence.
Ted the Hamster is doing fine. Alive and well as of 7:45 this morning. Thank you. It sounds like an innocent question to me.
I could have gone with “Minister of Mayhem.” But I like “Pastor of Disaster.” Truth be told, I also like Skip Bayless. That probably doesn’t surprise you. I like the use of alliteration and rhyme to punctuate a point. I don’t like his personality. But I’ve always enjoyed Skip’s writing.
I can see it already…
“The Pastor of Disaster” is sitting there, looking like a color swatch from Sherwin Williams…
Paintball Harry is standing over you saying…
”I know what you’re thinking. “Did he fire six shots or only five?” Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum Paintball Pumper, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
Anticipating the fun!!! – Paintball Harry
Stanglin,
I absolutely love the imagery of the mountain of God and the radiance of God’s glory.
Hebrews 12:18-24 speaks to the fact that in contrast to Mt. Sinai which could not be touched; and the unapproachable experience of Israel as they witnessed a mountain that burned with fire, and that was enveloped in darkness, gloom, and storm… diametrically opposed to that… is our experience as the people of God today. The writer of Hebrews states that when we approach the Father through Christ, we come to Mt. Zion. The mountain of God. A mountain which is approachable. A mountain which beckons us to draw near….
Here’s the point… just as Moses descended the mountain of God and was so changed that those who saw him could not help but know that he had been in the presence of Almighty God… so too, we as those who bask in God’s glory through His Son… we must not come down from the mountain of God unchanged…. It must be evident that we are those who stand in the presence of God and we are those who have been forever changed….
We are those, as you’ve quoted the Apostle Paul as saying… we are those with “unveiled faces”….
Powerful stuff.
Later.
Jason