In The Cleft
March 8, 2023 | Maddie Bartels TC ‘24
image description: a cleft in a rock
Exodus 33:18-23
Then Moses said, “Now show me your glory.”
And the LORD said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the LORD, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live.”
Then the LORD said, “There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen.”
Numbers 12:3
Now Moses was a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth.
How strange that the most humble man on Earth so boldly made demands of God! Moses’ humility is fully submitted, yet still insistent that God reveals himself. He gladly accepts the hidden cleft in the rock but still asks to see God’s face. Perhaps, Moses was humble because he demanded to experience and draw near to God’s glory and was willing to accept any affliction or abasement to do so.
Moses is first led up by God to a rock on Mount Sinai in eager anticipation, waiting to encounter the Lord in a profoundly new way. Yet at the moment when God comes near, He hides Moses in a crevice and covers him with His hand. Pressed in on every side, unable to move, surrounded by utter darkness, Moses is the closest to God he has ever been. Despite the strangeness of this type of encounter, we see that God’s closeness is not dependent on environments, experiences, or states of being.
Last summer, I committed to seeking God in a new way. I wanted to experience more of God’s presence in my life, and I began to ask God to do a new work in me. For several months, I felt spiritually filled, dedicated to Jesus, and close to God. I could discern the Lord’s vision for my life, and I felt the freedom that comes from surrender. Like Moses standing on the rock, I was eager to experience what came ahead of me.
Just when I began to taste the fruits of God’s internal work, I found myself thrown into a season of darkness, sadness, and disorientation. Old questions and doubts began to resurface as my joy slipped away. It felt like my times with the Lord were met with silence, and God himself was oppressing me with His lack of answers. I couldn’t see ahead to the future, much less have hope for it. I no longer even desired joy.
When our thoughts are inexplicable and inexpressible, God knows them. When we feel suffocated by darkness, hidden from the world, and unseen by God, His glory covers us. I have started to interpret this season as one of God’s hidden closeness. I draw comfort from Moses’ experience, and I trust that God is near– not seen, not touched, but closer than He has ever been.
I am afflicted, but God feels close. I feel trapped, sometimes by God Himself, but He is nearer than ever. If this Lent is a time of suffering, let us remember Moses, a man whose position was an indication of God’s glory and favor. And let us also remember Jesus, a man to whom God drew near and a man from whom God drew away, poignantly, while He hung on the cross. When God’s face was turned away (not out of rejection, disappointment, or apathy, but out of divine sorrow and love), His favor shone. So it will be with us. If we are crying out for God in the midst of a dark place, He will not fail to show us his glory.
Lord, let Moses’ testimony remind us to wait on your glory in the dark places. When we feel surrounded on every side, unable to see or sense you, when we feel oppressed by your covering hand, remind us that you are close to us.
Amen.
This piece is a part of a series for Lent 2023. Read more at https://www.yalelogos.com/lent2023