Exodus
13:17-22
November 17, 2013
When
Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them by way of the land of the
Philistines, although that was nearer; for God thought, ‘If the people face
war, they may change their minds and return to Egypt.’ So God led the people by
the roundabout way of the wilderness towards the Red Sea. The Israelites went
up out of the land of Egypt prepared for battle. And Moses took with him the
bones of Joseph, who had required a solemn oath of the Israelites, saying, ‘God
will surely take notice of you, and then you must carry my bones with you from
here.’ They set out from Succoth, and camped at Etham, on the edge of the
wilderness. The Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead
them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night, to give them light, so
that they might travel by day and by night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day
nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people.
I want to start by asking you to take time, before
reading this sermon, to watch a video on YouTube. It’s a song called “I Saw God
the Other Day” by Victor Wooten. You may not know who he is, but he is
considered one of the top bassists in jazz today, along with Stanley Clark and
Marcus Miller. If you like jazz you may be aware of him from his work with Bela
Fleck and the Flecktones.
Victor has become good friends with our music director,
Bruce Smith, who is the one who first made me aware of the video. It’s a video
that Victor made seven years ago, and it has a lot to do with our passage for
today, but even more with the idea of God as Shekinah. Here’s the link to the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L_h9eQ15CIs
If you veer more toward Christian orthodoxy, you probably
found a number of things that bother you in the video, but I’m going to ask you
to put those aside to pay attention to a bigger message. What Victor says in
the song is a profound reflection of God as Shekinah.
My guess is that you’ve never heard the name or term, Shekinah, but it is ancient
understanding of God that appears in our passage, and continues on throughout
the rest of the Bible. Shekinah is a
name for God that means “God’s presence in our midst.” The word in Hebrew looks like this: שכינה. It literally
means “to settle, inhabit, or dwell.” When our passage talks about God as appearing before the
Israelites as a pillar of cloud by day, and of fire by night, that is God as
Shekinah. When we hear about the tabernacle (a tent that holds the ark of the
covenant), we are hearing about the holy place where the Shekinah of God rests.
When Elijah is in the cave, and he hears God in the silence, that silence is Shekinah.
When the prophets hear God speak to them, and share God’s word with the
Israelites, that is them living in and sharing Shekinah.
The Bible is adamant about the fact
that God is a presence constantly in our midst, a holy Shekinah living in,
with, and among us. Too many Christians have a problematic theology that promotes
the idea of God’s separation and distance from us. Many Christians hold the
belief that God is up in heaven and we are down on earth. They also believe
that when each of us was created, we were given the task of living out the
Golden Rule, treating other as we would be treated ourselves, and believing
Jesus so that when we die and go up to heaven, St. Peter will let us in. That’s
a belief in God’s separation.
That is not a biblical belief, and
it is definitely NOT what either the Old Testament or New Testament. They teach
God’s Shekinah. They teach that God has been a presence with us from the
beginning. In Genesis we are told that God walked with Adam and Eve in the
Garden. We are also told that God literally appeared before Abraham to tell him
that Sarah would bear a child. All throughout the Bible we find God’s Shekinah,
including in Jesus.
What is also interesting about God
as Shekinah is that like the name for
God that Rev. Frierson preached about last week, Sophia (God as Wisdom), Shekinah is also feminine. In English we
don’t have feminine or masculine words, so this idea can be confusing to us. It
certainly was confusing to me when I was taking French. I could never figure
out why some words were feminine and some were masculine. But I’ve since found
out that one reason is that the originators of the words were trying to
communicate something essential in their choice of masculine or feminine
designations. What was essential about making Shekinah feminine was that God’s
presence has many of the qualities of what we think of as feminine: nurturing,
loving, gentle, peaceful, and intimate. We often think of God as a “he,” and
therefore give God masculine attributes. The Hebrews were adamant that God has
feminine qualities, too, that come out in God’s Shekinah.
I first heard of Shekinah from the great Quaker mystic
and writer, Thomas Kelly. His book, Testament
of Devotion, was a revelation for me because it was the first Christian
writing that opened me up to a whole different dimension of understanding God
than I had been aware of before. He said, “Deep within us all there is an amazing inner
sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to
which we may continuously return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our
time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling
us home unto Itself. Yielding to these persuasions, gladly committing ourselves
in body and soul, utterly and completely, to the Light Within, is the beginning
of true life. It is a dynamic center, a creative Life that presses to birth
within us. It is a Light Within which illumines the face of God and casts new
shadows and new glories upon the face of men. It is a seed stirring to life if
we do not choke it. It is the Shekinah of the soul, the Presence in the midst.
Here is the Slumbering Christ, stirring to be awakened, to become the soul we
clothe in earthly form and action. And He is within us all.” Prior to reading this passage, I had never
heard the word “Shekinah,” and I had to look it up, which took a while to find.
This is one of the most profound
passages I’ve ever read, and it has had a deep impact on me. Kelly emphasizes
that there is something of Christ, of God’s presence, in each and every one of
us, but that this is a polite presence. God’s Shekinah will never be forced
upon us. If we choose to ignore God’s presence in us, then God will become a
“Slumbering Christ” within each and every one of us, remaining unknown and
dormant. But if we choose to say “yes” to God’s Shekinah within, God’s presence
will grow in us to lead us to an amazing life.
This message of Shekinah is a
message we preach all the time at Calvin Church, so it’s most likely familiar
to you, but it’s not to many Christians. As I mentioned before, too many
Christians think of God as “up there,” and of us as “down here.” God as
Shekinah is a radical understanding of God that says that God is with us
wherever we are, and deeply involved in our lives. It also means that God’s
presence isn’t just in humans, but that it’s in everything. Everything
manifests God’s Shekinah: nature, books, music, relationships,… life.
Why do so many Christians have a
hard time with this idea? I believe it has to do with orthodox, doctrinal
Christians being scared of pantheism, which literally means that
everything (pan) is God (theism). Many New Age believers like to
promote everything as being God—us, trees, mountains, lakes, animals,…
everything. The truth is that Christians do not believe in pantheism, but we do
believe in panentheism, which is that God (theism) is in (en)
everything (pan).
Panentheism is deeply biblical. You
find it promoted in the beginning of John’s gospel, where is says that “In
the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He
was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and
without him not one thing came into being.”
Panetheism is promoted in Paul’s letter to the Colossians, where Paul
says about Christ, “for in him all things in heaven and on earth were
created, things visible and invisible.”
Panentheism is also promoted in
Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, where he says, “There is one body and one
Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one
faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all
and in all.”
The point is that God’s Shekinah is
here among each and every one of us, but that doesn’t mean that we are always
aware of it. I want to close with one of my favorite stories that speaks to the
difference God’s Shekinah can make in our lives. Years ago there was a small
monastery in the mountains of France. It once had been the center of
inspiration for pilgrims and seekers yearning for God. People came from all
over Europe to discover God in the monastery. But then it changed. It became
proud. The brothers took themselves too seriously. Instead of being truly
humble, they became proud of their humility. So began their decline. Fewer and
fewer pilgrims sought their wisdom, and few monks joined their ranks. They
became old. They became rigid. They worshiped their past. They were spiritually
dead and physically dying. In another generation their members would be dead
and they would be no more.
One day a scraggly stranger came to
their door. He smiled a toothless smile as he asked for a place to rest for the
night. He was invited in. The monks thoroughly enjoyed his presence at dinner
and sensed a spiritual depth about him, even if he was rough and smelly on the
outside.
The next morning, as he was leaving,
he profusely thanked the abbot. Taking the abbot’s hand, he leaned forward, and
said in a soft whisper, “I need to tell
you a secret, one that God has given me permission to tell you. Christ is here
in your midst. The messiah is masquerading as one of your brothers.” The abbot
was shocked: “The messiah? Here? In this
place? No, it isn’t possible!”
He told the other brothers what the
stranger had said. They also couldn’t believe it. Then they began to think
about it. Could it be brother Joseph? No,
he’s too selfish. Could it be brother John? No, he’s much too strange. Is it
brother Bernard? No, he’s too clumsy. No matter whom they thought of, they
couldn’t imagine that brother being the messiah. Still, what if the stranger was
right? A thought occurred to them. What if brother Joseph is really Christ, and
just pretending to be selfish? What if Christ is brother John, and he is just
pretending to be strange? What if Christ is brother Bernard, and just
pretending to be clumsy? So they started to treat each other as though each one
was possibly Christ, lest Christ really be one of them. As they did, the
monastery changed. They began to focus more deeply on God during worship, lest
Jesus catch them slumbering. They read scripture with a renewed fervor, lest Christ
catch them daydreaming. As they did, they grew spiritually. Their prayers took
on a new life. So did their teaching and service. And people noticed. Soon
pilgrims and seekers came to their doors to learn from their wisdom. New monks
joined their ranks to learn the spiritual secrets. They became alive once
again, and once again they became a center of spiritual life for all of Europe.
They became alive to Christ.
Two questions reflect on: Do we allow ourselves to be a dwelling place
for God’s Shekinah? Do we recognize God’s Shekinah in others and the world?
As a final note, and as an
exclamation point to this sermon, I want to share with you something that
happened right after I preached this sermon at our 8:30 a.m. worship service.
As I was shaking hands with members, one of our members handed me a blue folder
and said, “God told me to give this to you.”
Not knowing what was in the folder, and a bit nervous that it might be
his letter to me about the 50 ways I stink as a pastor, I stepped back and
said, “Should I be afraid?” He said, “No, but let me explain it before you open
it. I wasn’t coming to church this
morning, but it was like this nagging voice in my head kept urging me to go to
church. It felt like there was an important reason for me to go. So I got
dressed and headed out the door. But before I could walk out, I also felt this
urgent compulsion to grab this folder. It seemed preposterous, but I couldn’t
get the idea out of my head, so I grabbed it and headed out the door. I was a
little embarrassed to walk in to church with it, so I left it in my car. After
I heard your sermon, I realized that I was supposed to give it to you. Open it
up.”
I opened up the folder and found in
it this bumper sticker:
He said, “I got that bumper sticking
at a Victor Wooten concert three years ago…”
Amen.
