“But when you heard the voice from the heart of the darkness, while the mountain is blazing with fire, all your tribal leaders and elders came to me. They said, ‘Look, the Lord our God has show us His glory and greatness, and we have heard His voice from the heart of the fire. Today we have seen that God can speak to us humans, and yet we live! But now why should we risk death again, we will certainly die and be consumed by this awesome fire. Can any living thing hear the voice of the living God from the heart of fire as we have and yet survive?'” (Deuteronomy 5:23-26 NLT)
I tripped over this passage in Deuteronomy this morning. It’s a direct quote from the Israelites just after they’ve received the ten commandments but before they reject the Promised Land. To me, it feels a little mealy-mouthed – you know, when someone is talking and you have no idea what they are attempting to communicate. I had to read the whole passage through a couple times to realize their rebuttal. It made me stop and wonder, why was this exact quote included in Moses’ retelling sermon at the end of the wilderness? What’s the point?
Pause for a quick an aside: It’s good to wonder when we read scripture. Wondering leads to question-asking and question-asking leads to answers. Answers ultimately bring insight to our own walk with God.
So let’s break down this round-about response:
The people of God had heard the voice God directly and they were terrified. It was believed that man could not hear God’s voice and live. Yet, they themselves had heard God speak and were still breathing: proof positive that it was possible. Petrifying, but possible. However, the holy fright they had did not exhilarate them; quite the opposite. It shook them to the core. They never wanted to hear God’s voice again. Instead, they sent their tribal leaders and elders to Moses to plead their way out of any future face to face conversation.
Once I had a handle on what I’d read, I was appalled. These people had heard the audible voice of God and lived! They had experienced the demonstrative evidence of His physical presence and they pushed back! It was far too uncomfortable to walk with the living God. They were not emboldened by their firsthand encounter, they were alarmed and ready to retreat. They happily handed over the privilege of divine intimacy to Moses alone.
Initially, I wanted to berate the Israelites for their cowardice. How could they experience such power and majesty and pull away? I chewed on that thought for a bit. Somewhere along this pentatuech reading plan, I’ve realized that every mistake the Israelites made is written down to highlight our own flesh tendency. When I want to point fingers, I first must examine my own heart for likewise temptations and failures. Upon further consternation, this firsthand God-encounter followed by extreme fear is indicative of my own back and forth with the Almighty.
What do I mean by that?
Most of my readers know that the most recent chapters in my story have been quite scary. Not the obvious thunder, earthquake and roaring voice, but pain, loss, loneliness and public failure kind of scary. Yet in the midst of all my awful, I have known the ongoing presence of God. He has been with me, even as I’ve been terrified. Like the Israelites, when I finally found the other side of the scary, I just wanted to catch my breath, wash the smoke out of my clothes and recover a normal existence again. Did I know God’s presence amidst the terrible? Absolutely. Am I keen on repeating it? Not so much. I survived the season, but it still feels like barely. My boots are still shaking. On some level, I can understand the Israelite reluctance to step into another soul-rattling God-experience.
So the Israelites farmed out the task of getting close to the living God. They asked Moses to approach the Lord on their behalf. They stayed in their tents and let the priest do the heavy lifting. They exempted themselves from terror but they also exempted themselves from the blessing of being near the living God.
“Go yourself and listen to what the Lord our God says. Then come and tell us everything he tells you and we will listen and obey.” (Deuteronomy 5:27 NLT)
If we read on we realize they promised to listen and obey Moses’ derivative instructions. And if we know they would continually struggle to do even that. Here’s the rub for the Israelites and for us: a secondhand experience will only provide secondhand results. If we rely on others to approach God on our behalf, it will never be as transformative as engaging Him ourselves. Yes, it’s frightening, but it’s also metamorphic.
When our son was two or three, he was easily rattled. He’s a sensitive soul and my husband was a little concerned that he’d become a crybaby. So when our son saw something he deemed scary, my husband would remind him, “Yes, it’s a little scary, but look again and you might see it’s also cool.” Our toddler grabbed on to this truth and started confronting his fears with a new sentence: “It’s scary, it’s cool.” His statement was the most adorable mix of fear and fascination. “It’s scary…” – his bottom lip would tremble as he decided what to do about his fear – “…it’s cool.” – the final half of the sentence was usually accompanied by a little nervous laugh.
This might be a good approach in our fearful but transformative God experiences. It’s scary, it’s cool. Our flesh is frightened but our spiritual awareness is heightened. We can’t afford to farm out these divine encounters to braver souls. Second-and experiences with God produce second-hand results.
Lord, our flesh is loud and we tend to pull back from discomfort. Forgive us for our fear and help us push through our feelings to get near to You. We don’t want second-hand results. We want to be further transformed into Your likeness and we realize that will only happen if we have the courage to climb close to You. Toughen up our flesh as we fight for divine intimacy. Amen.