the gift of glory

As soon as Judas left the room, Jesus said, “The time has come for the Son of Man to enter into his glory, and God will be glorified because of him. And since God receives glory because of the Son, he will soon give glory to the Son.”                    John 13:31-32

 

I have been rolling these words around in my head this morning. I read them quite by accident on my way somewhere else to read something else. But they have lodged themselves in my mind and captured my thoughts.

 

For one thing, it’s captivating simply because it is speaking of the glory of God. There is something about this notion of God’s glory that is—quite obviously—awe inspiring. I suppose that’s why it’s called glory.

 

But here we find the idea of God’s glory changing hands, so to speak, between Father and Son. Now of course, Father is Son and Son is Father, for both are one God with the Spirit. But still there is something beautiful and compelling about the Father receiving glory from the Son and so reciprocating by giving glory to the Son. It feels very much like there is something I don’t quite comprehend going on here; something powerful and amazing in the way God is glorifying and honoring himself through service and sacrifice to himself.

 

I am struck by the realization that glory comes to the Father as the Son submits and gives himself up for the world. It isn’t that God has no glory a part from the death of Christ, but more that somehow, through Jesus’ death and love-sacrifice more glory is being brought to the Father. And in reciprocating fashion, the Father then gives glory to the Son because of his submission and sacrifice.

 

This is the way God’s wisdom. Glory isn’t achieved through oppression of the weaker or with conquering power. Glory comes through submission to the Father. Glory comes through sacrifice and love.

 

Again, a few chapters later in John’s gospel we find Jesus praying. And again the glory is given and received. Again through submission and obedience.

 

I brought glory to you here on earth by completing the work you gave me to do. Now, Father, bring me into the glory we shared before the world began.          John 17:4-5

 

I think this is why in Romans 8, when Paul speaks of how we will be heirs of God’s glory, he also ties that glory to suffering.

 

And since we are his children, we are his heirs. In fact, together with Christ we are heirs of God’s glory. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.          Romans 8:17

 

It isn’t that God enjoys suffering, or that he wants us to “earn” it. We can’t earn it and God is abundantly clear about that all through the Bible. But I think we see in the interaction between Father and Son that glory comes to the Father by submission and obedience, and that when obedience is given to him—which brings him glory—he in turn gives glory. As he did for his Son, so he will—to a lesser degree—to us his children.

 

Glory comes to the Father by way of our surrender and obedience. Surrender to Christ and obedience to his ways. As glory goes to the Father through our submission to Christ he in turns makes us heirs and children. Heirs and children who share in his glory.

 

when we look

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
  the moon and the stars you set in place—
what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
  human beings that you should care for them?

Yet you made them only a little lower than God
  and crowned them with glory and honor.

You gave them charge of everything you made,
  putting all things under their authority—
the flocks and the herds
  and all the wild animals,

 the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea,
  and everything that swims the ocean currents.

O Lord , our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!

                                                             Psalm 8:3-9

 

It’s all around us—this greatness, this majesty of God. Everywhere we turn he is there displaying himself in awesome, overwhelming glory. And when we look we can see him.

 

When we look.

 

It is a looking that happens with eyes for sure, but it is so much more than that. It is a looking of the soul. A looking that is open to the God of the Universe and cries out in desire to see him, to seek him, to be known by him. When we look with this kind of openness we can see him in all his crushing glory; for ours is a God who wants to be seen.

 

For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God. Romans 1:20

 

We can clearly see the invisible. Yes, this is a seeing that involves more than just the eyes. It is a heart seeing and a soul seeing. It is a seeing that recognizes not simply that something—or dare we say it—Someone much more magnificent than ourselves has created, has fashioned, has controlled this place we dwell in. But it is also a seeing that recognizes his glory and then is overwhelmed with the sense of our own state. A seeing that rumbles deep within our soulbones and cries out, what am I that you even care? Why would you be mindful of us in all our smallness and ungloried ways?

 

To look and truly see the work of God’s fingers is to be struck by the elevated place and prominence we’ve been given. Not struck with pride or entitlement—that comes when we are looking with souls still blind. But to be struck by the undeserved state of our prominent place in all creation. To be befuddled by God’s grace and goodness. To find ourselves headspun by God’s strange, deep interest in us. Shouldn’t we be little more than a disappointment? And yet he loves wild and reckless and unashamed.

 

Perhaps this is why the prophets of Old feared seeing God in all his glory. To see such purity of love and majestic glory, to be confronted with such a God who commands all and knows nothing of words like “too hard” or “impossible.” To see this same God throw all his power and all his glory into loving us with such shameless bravado towards the shackles of death—to see such love and glory directly—who could take such a sight?! Surely it would render us lifeless. How could one give any attention to blood pumping or lungs breathing in the face of such wonder?

 

And so, until God makes all things new, until he restores our souls to complete wholeness, he shows himself through what he has done. For ours is a God who wants to be seen. If we are looking with soul eyes we will see; and even then the glory we glimpse can seem too much. It can drive us to bewilderment over why a God so magnificent would consider us, let alone love us. And yet he does. Praise our Father, he does.

 

O Lord , our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth. May we look with eyes of soul and eyes of heart and may we see you.

 

glory

Then the cloud covered the Tabernacle, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could no longer enter the Tabernacle because the cloud had settled down over it, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Now whenever the cloud lifted from the Tabernacle, the people of Israel would set out on their journey, following it. But if the cloud did not rise, they remained where they were until it lifted. The cloud of the Lord hovered over the Tabernacle during the day, and at night fire glowed inside the cloud so the whole family of Israel could see it. This continued throughout all their journeys.           Exodus 40:34-38

 

God’s glory. I’ll be honest, I don’t usually think of it in tangible terms. I don’t typically think of it as something to fill a space. God’s glory usually has to do solely with how I think of his greatness and honor. I think of it in terms of him being righteous and faithful to his own ways; of how he is soveriegn and has command over everything. But here it is, right at the end of Exodus–the glory of God filling the Tabernacle.

 

In some ways it’s an unfulfilling way to end the book of Exodus. The people are still in the wilderness. They are still looking for, but have not found the Promised Land. But then, the book is called Exodus, not Arrival. And it does seem fitting that the end of Exodus is a picture of God no longer just leading out in front, but now descending to dwell among his people.

 

But as I think on this I keep returning to this imagery of God’s glory descending and filling the space designated as his. And I can’t help but draw the comparison to us–God’s new temple.

 

Don’t you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?         1 Corinthians 3:16

 

We are the Temple where the Glory now fills. We are the place designated his–God’s–for his holy dwelling. No longer among his people, now in them; in us. The glory is within. The glory fills. It fills so that no other can take up residence. it fills so that all around will be seen the presence of God here, in this place. It fills so that we may have relationship and connection. So we may have intimacy and be given direction when the time to move is at hand.

 

The glory of God–his greatness and his ways of perfectness–fill us. Live within in us.

 

Jesus replied, “All who love me will do what I say. My Father will love them, and we will come and make our home with each of them.        John 14:23

 

For the Israelites, the book of Exodus ends with this descending of God’s presence and it says that his leading from among them “continued throughout all their journeys.” This is how I want my journeys of life to be lived as well. So today I want to live like the glory-filled. Today I want to celebrate the presentness of God. His is within. He has made his home. I will choose to love and follow. And trust that in all my journeys God will have his home within and lead me out into the world. And somewhere along the way–probably many somewheres along the way–I will look to better  understand and appreciate this glory of his that fills me.

 

exchange rate

Has a nation ever changed its gods?
(Yet they are not gods at all.)
But my people have exchanged their Glory
for worthless idols.            Jeremiah 2:11

Today is Ash Wednesday which means it’s the beginning of Lent. The forty days that prepare us for the celebration of Easter. Traditionally Christians use this time to give something up – to abstain from something as a way of reminding themselves of the sacrifice of Christ. It’s a means to preparing ones heart and mind for the resurrection observance. In the waiting and anticipating there is depth of meaning for the event. Much like Advent which prepares us for Christmas, Lent prepares us for Easter.

I didn’t grow up in a particularly liturgical church and so this isn’t a practice that I engaged in much as a child. Throughout my adult life I have given something up for Lent some years and not for other years. It’s been determined by the year and what I needed and where my heart was. To be honest, I’m still not sure (even though it starts today!) if I’m giving anything up this year or not. But as I read from Jeremiah this morning I couldn’t help but think of it in terms of Lent and resurrection.

The words of chapter two, verse eleven struck me with particular power this morning…

“But my people have exchanged their Glory for worthless idols.”

Perhaps this is what the season of Lent and the practice of giving something up is about. Reminding us of all the worthless idols we’ve put in place of God, of our Glory.

I’m still considering what this statement regarding “our Glory” may mean and what it implies. Surely I’ll have another post for that one. But I think I’m realizing that the preparation we get with Lent is a subtle reminder that when we give up a little thing that we would rather not live without we get clarity in our lives. We get the reminder that these things in life are just “things”, nothing more. And they certainly can be done without if need be. Ultimately it’s a practice in saying “No” to ourselves in order to say “Yes” to something greater than ourselves. It’s a practice in serving, in sacrificing. And Jesus gave the greatest sacrifice in dying on our behalf and giving us resurrection life.

In order to live the life abundant that Jesus invites us to we may at times have to say no to the things that rob us of life. (Although I’m learning that we have to say no to far fewer things than we’ve typically been led to believe!) And Lent gives us a practice in saying no, a reminder that we can when we know we should. And it honors the sacrifice of Jesus, and prepares us for the celebration of his death and resurrection.

“But my people have exchanged their Glory for worthless idols.”

Whether observing Lent or not, this verse is an invitation to examine myself today:

In what areas of my life have I exchanged the glory God offers for worthless idols? Where have I settled for less than the abundant life of following Jesus?

 

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