2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
12 Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. 13 We are not like Moses, who
would put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away. 14 But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. 15 Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. 16 But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.1 Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2 Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God.
God’s Glory and God’s Word Go Together
I want to show a picture. Can you tell me who this is?
It’s Moses. It was sculpted by Michelangelo in 1515 and is currently on display in Rome.
Do you notice anything strange about him?
Michelangelo sculpted Moses with two horns coming out of his head!
It’s an interesting story but it boils down to this: After spending 40 days and 40 nights in the presence of the Lord on the top of Mt. Sinai where he was receiving the 10 Commandments from God, when Moses came down that mountain his face was radiant.[1] It shined with the reflected glory of God.
That’s what Michelangelo was trying to capture in his sculpture. But how do you carve radiance? How do you sculpt shining glory? Michelangelo turned to Scripture and there he found that the Hebrew word used to describe the glory shining from Moses’ face like rays of blinding light is the same as the word for “horn.” So, to depict Moses in all his shining glory, Michelangelo gave him horns.
That was more than 500 years ago. What I find terribly ironic about this sculpture is that for more than 500 years, Moses has sat there in Rome with horns on his head. When in reality, the moment that Michelangelo captured in marble was brief; it was temporary. His face didn’t shine forever. That glory was transitory; it didn’t last. A few days after coming down from Mt. Sinai the glory would fade away until Moses went back up to see God again.
Now, that’s all fine and good for Moses. We read in Exodus 34 that he didn’t even realize that his face was shining. But the people he was talking to sure did, and his appearance had a powerful effect on them. When they first saw him, they were terrified. They didn’t want to come near him. And that makes sense, right?
So many times in the Bible, when people see an angel shining with the glory of God, what’s the first thing they do? They hide; they cower; they’re afraid. And what’s the first thing the angel says to them? “Do not be afraid! Have no fear!”
There’s something scary about sinners standing in the presence of holiness. Now, this comparison hardly does it justice, but it’s kind of like when you go to an event – do you remember those? – but you get the dress code wrong. Everyone else is wearing fancy clothes, e.g. ball gowns, tuxedos, and you’re standing in the corner wearing flip flops and a graphic tee. You feel so out of place. You feel so underdressed. You just want to slink out of the room unnoticed. Well, that’s kind of what it’s like to stand in the presence of holiness.
It was uncomfortable for the people to look at Moses when his face shined with the reflected glory of God, because it reminded them how unradiant and inglorious they looked. It made them painfully away of how unworthy they were to stand in the presence of God. And that scared them.
That’s where Moses’ veil comes in. Paul talks about it in his letter to the Corinthians. Moses had a habit of putting a veil over his face – but maybe not for the reason that you might think. He didn’t cover his face to prevent the people from seeing the glory and being afraid. He wanted them to see that glory and it was good for them to be afraid, because what he came down the mountain to say while his face was shining wasn’t his own message; it was the Word of God. And so, it was good and right for the people to stand in awe and to hold that word in holy reverence and fear, and it was a powerful way to communicate that God’s glory and God’s word go together.
Moses didn’t wear his veil to hide the glory. He wore that veil, as Paul says to the Corinthians, “to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away.”[2] That is what is so ironic about Michelangelo’s sculpture. Moses was never meant to have a permanently shining face, because the message he shared with the people – the Law he brought down from Mt. Sinai – wasn’t the final word that God had to say. It was important. Those 10 Commandments are still God’s will, but God has a greater, still more glorious message to share with you in Christ.
The only problem is that, like those Israelites at the foot of Mt. Sinai, we don’t always like to see it. Or, as Paul says to the Corinthians, “But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read.”[3]
Like those Israelites who were unable to look at the face of Moses because of its glory, it’s uncomfortable for sinners of any age to stand in the presence of the holy God, especially when our hope is based on the Law, like the 10 Commandments that God gave to Moses.
Let’s put it in terms of everyday life. You get called to the carpet by your boss, your parent, your teacher or a friend because of something you know all too well that you did wrong. It’s hard to meet their eye, isn’t it? You’d rather stare at the ground and hand them something to try to make up for it, e.g. “Here’s a gift to replace the one I broke,” “Here’s a new client to soften the blow of the one I lost.”
We want to be able to do something to fix the situation, but nothing you do can ever erase the wrong you committed, and the person you wronged has every right to be angry at you. That’s uncomfortable.
That’s why to this day we crave the veil. That’s why we’d rather have a buffer between us and God. That’s why we love the Law so much, because it gives us the impression – really, the false hope – that there’s something we can do to make up for what we’ve done. Since the time of Moses people have clung to the 10 Commandments in the hope that if as long as I don’t murder my neighbour in cold blood, then God won’t be angry with me. As long as I don’t rob a bank, God can overlook the “little” sins, the “white” lies, my momentary weakness and “minor” faults.
But on the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus takes the veil away, and he shows us all his unveiled glory. Next to him, in all that blazing brightness, Peter, James and John must have looked pretty drab. We all would have, because next to the holy glory of Jesus our sin stands out in stark contrast.
But the radiance of Jesus’ glory on the Mount of Transfiguration is different than the terrifying glory that the Israelites saw on Mt. Sinai, because Jesus’ glory shows us more than just our sin; it also shows us our salvation.
It’s funny. In his Gospel, Mark uses a technical term to describe how white Jesus’ clothes appeared when he had been transfigured. It refers to a launderer’s soap. His point is that no dry cleaner on earth could get whiter clothes than what Jesus was wearing.
I find that such a fitting description of Jesus’ glory, because there’s no way on earth that we can replicate it. We can’t wash our sin away even with the strongest bleach on the planet. We can’t clear our record with gallons of whiteout. But Jesus takes our scarlet sins and makes them white as snow. That’s what makes Jesus’ glory greater, and, as it happens, that’s exactly what Jesus and Moses were talking about on that day that Jesus was transfigured. Mark doesn’t tell us in his Gospel, but Luke tells us in his that they were talking about the sacrifice that Jesus was about to make for our sins.
Under Moses and the old covenant, every sin required sacrifice. Every wrong needed to be atoned for in blood. We just read a story in confirmation class about good King Hezekiah and how in a single day the people of Judah sacrificed more than 3,000 animals for their sins. There weren’t enough priests to slaughter all those animals; they had to deputize people from the crowd just to handle the volume. And that’s in one day. The covenant God gave through Moses on Mt. Sinai lasted 1,500 years! Imagine how many animals were sacrificed for sin! It’d be impossible to count.
Under Jesus and the new covenant, every sin still required sacrifice; every wrong still needed to be atoned for in blood – but not the blood of beasts. On the Mount of Transfiguration Jesus was making his final preparations to sacrifice himself for your sin, once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous. That glorious, radiant, shining Son of God in all his splendor would willingly go to a cross and surrender his life for you – for drab, dirty, sinful you.
That’s what makes Jesus’ glory greater. When we see him shining bright as the sun on the Mount of Transfiguration, he doesn’t make us afraid to be in his presence, he gives us the hope and confidence of Peter to say, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here.”[4] We don’t want to slink away because we are unworthy. We want to pitch a tent and stay a while because we are loved.
In this brief but beautiful scene, Jesus gives us the hope that Paul talked about in the first verse of our first lesson for today: Since we have such a hope, we are very bold.[5] Jesus removes the veil from between us and God and lifts our chins so that our eyes can meet his without guilt or shame, but sins forgiven. He shines in all his godly glory and through his glorious sacrifice for our sins, he is transforming us into his image with ever-increasing glory. Every day we get to be reflections of his radiance to this world.
You might not climb Mt. Sinai like Moses did and come down with horns on your head or a face as bright as the sun, but every time you come to hear God’s Word, he shares his glory with you too, and you get to take that glory into the world. Every time that you come here with battered and bruised hearts burdened by sin and shame, God shares with you his message of salvation and revives you to go back into the world with that same message of hope for others.
Even if you don’t leave this place with horns on your head or a face as bright as the sun, I pray that the people in your lives can see the light of Christ on your face. May you be like an unveiled Moses sharing a glorious message from God for this world of sins forgiven and the hope of heaven.
God’s glory and God’s word go together. God fill you with both until you see his unending glory in the halls of heaven. Amen.
[1] Exodus 34:29
[2] 2 Corinthians 3:13
[3] 2 Corinthians 3:14
[4] Mark 9:5
[5] 2 Corinthians 3:12