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Psalm 80:1-3
1 Hear us, Shepherd of Israel,
you who lead Joseph like a flock.
You who sit enthroned between the cherubim,
shine forth 2 before Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasseh.
Awaken your might;
come and save us.
3 Restore us, O God;
make your face shine on us,
that we may be saved.
We recently got together with some extended family, and as is the case with most family gatherings there was plenty of food and catching up. But rather than sitting around a table, we gathered instead around a bonfire, and as anyone who’s been charged with setting up a bonfire knows, you’ve got to go big. We ended up going so big, however, that the fire became a bit of a challenge on which to cook. We skewered the hot dogs and got as close as we could, but I found myself having to turn my face away for fear I’d lose an eyebrow or two. As you can imagine, a good number of marshmallows suffered the worst fate. The fire was just too much; we could only get so close.
In the Scriptures the language about God’s face gives us a few impressions. One of the more prominent impressions is of God’s face being too much to handle. For example, in Exodus we hear the LORD say to Moses, “you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live” (33.20). Similarly, in Genesis, Jacob is surprised that even his somewhat veiled encounter with God “face to face” hasn’t killed him. To put it lightly, meeting the LORD God up close and personal was not usually recommended. The glory, holiness, the sheer power was too much for any mere human to observe and survive. You could only get so close.
There’s other language in the Scriptures, however, which speaks of God’s face with a different tone, as with the famous blessing in the book of Numbers (6.24-26):
“‘“The LORD bless you
and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace.”’
We could also note the prophet Ezekiel who reports God as saying (39.29), “I will no longer hide my face from them, for I will pour out my Spirit on the people of Israel, declares the Sovereign LORD.” Or take Psalm 27.8, “You have said, “Seek my face.” My heart says to you, “Your face, LORD, do I seek.” So when it comes to God’s face we get varied impressions in the Scriptures. There is a very clear sense that God’s face, in such overwhelming holiness, is too much to take in full glory. And there is the impression in other passages which evokes a goodness and grace, God’s face standing as something for which to search, with the expectation of salvation, renewal, blessing. This is the case from our reading a moment ago in Psalm 80:
“Restore us, O God;
make your face shine on us,
that we may be saved.”
So, the question is, which is it? Is God’s face like an almighty bonfire from which we’d better keep our distance for fear of complete annihilation? Or is God’s face something for which to go looking, and want turned toward us for blessing? Well, it appears in the Scriptures that it’s both. On the one hand, the LORD God’s holiness and glory is too much for us. As the origin life, maker of all matter known and yet unknow, would we really expect to be able to stand in the glory of his presence and not be totally consumed? We can only get so close to the light source in our solar system, the sun (just one of billions upon billions of stars in the known universe), what makes us think we can handle the full radiance of the LORD God almighty, the personal source of everything?
On the other hand, as we heard in those other passages, God’s glory is not only about sheer power, but also his holy character, which includes his goodness, kindness, patience, love. All this to say, in the Bible the last thing God appears to be is one-dimensional or easily contained. Hard to get our minds around, naturally, which is why folks like C.S. Lewis wrote works like The Chronicles of Narnia to help get the point across, especially to children. In the allegory, Lewis refers to the character which stands for God, Aslan the lion, this way. One character asks:
“Is he safe?”
“Safe? Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good…”
“He’s wild, you know. Not a tame lion.”[i]
In the case of our reading today, we find a Psalm written in a time when some of God’s people wanted deliverance and help, and there was a longing for God to get up and do something about it. Psalm 80 is also one of the few places in the Scriptures where God is described as a shepherd for his people. Shepherds are looked to for direction, provision and protection. A shepherd not only nurtures and guides a flock, but fights off predators. So here in Psalm 80 we’re hearing an appeal to God’s mercy and God’s might. Look at us, Lord! Shine on us! Give us some light, get us out of this mess! That’s a sentiment some of us might identify with even today. When in a tough spot, we often appeal to God in desperation, trusting both in his mercy and his might. I know you’re holy, powerful and good, so please, Lord, turn some of that light my way. If we feel that way, even now at Christmas, we’re in good company, because we hear a good deal of that sentiment all through the Bible from various voices.
Listening back on those voices now, those cries crescendo at different moments in history, and so we reflect on some of those cries especially during the Advent and Christmas seasons. Because it’s at Christmas we remember that those cries were in fact answered through Jesus’ arrival. It was through Jesus’ arrival into the bleak longing of the world that God’s light, might and mercy was poured. As we hear from the prophet Isaiah (9:3), later picked up in Matthew’s gospel, “the people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.” The arrival of Jesus was the fulfilment of our human longing for God’s light. But, more importantly, Jesus’ arrival was the fulfillment of God’s promises to his people, and by extension all creation, including you and me – this is the promise of his presence. Holy, mighty, merciful. God’s very presence was promised, and God’s presence is what we need as his creatures. Jesus was the embodiment of that promise of presence.
The presence of God, the face of God seen and known. Christmas is the celebration of God’s turning and shining on the world, as we hear in Paul’s words, in the fullness of time (Galatians 4). Christmas is the celebration of the completely unexpected, as we read in the gospels that God’s face has been seen, hasshone on us, but surprisingly so, through the face of Jesus. Sometimes folks will say, “Well, if God existed, why wouldn’t he make himself more obvious, more known?” Well in the Bible, the central answer to that question is: God has in fact turned up, and for more on that, please take a good long look at Jesus! This is what the gospels, Jesus’ biographies, are trying to say. If you want to know what God is like, look at Jesus.
Jesus, the face of God. The face of God in utero; the face of God pressed thru the birth canal; the face of God nursed on the breast. The face of God which appeared as one of our faces. Though not as expected, the countenance of God, as seen in Jesus, shone so brightly that the world has never been the same. In Israel’s Scriptures the face of God may not have been something you’d wish to encounter, but in Jesus we were able to see God’s glory. A glory, holiness and love which could be seen, touched and handled. As Jesus entered, the light of God’s face shone on the world, and by receiving that light the world is saved. As the carol goes, “Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, Hail th’ incarnate Deity!”[ii] Through Jesus we look on God’s face and we don’t die, we live. In Jesus we are not consumed and destroyed, but enfolded and enlivened.
A face can tell you everything. Are they happy or disgruntled? Are they curious, are they judgmental? Are they despairing or hopeful? In a couple of days many of us will no doubt be watching the faces of children very closely and hoping a smile spreads across those little faces, and not a grimace with a, “what am I supposed to do with this?!” A face can tell you everything.
During December we’ve been using Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol as a bit of creative fodder – the story of a miserly old money lender, Ebenezer Scrooge, who undergoes a surprising transformation overnight. In the story, Scrooge is changed from ill-tempered and hostile, to warm-hearted and generous. He wakes up on Christmas morning, after a very strange night of visions, a different man than went to bed on Christmas Eve. And one of the things which comes through both in the book, and in many retellings in film, is that after his night of redemption, Scrooge has a different disposition, a new face he presents to the world. This is most dramatically emphasized the day after Christmas, when Scrooge’s sad little clerk, Bob Cratchit hurries into work late. Poor Bob’s expecting his toxic boss to throw the book at him, and readies himself for the worst from Scrooge. But, now radically redeemed (and feeling a little mischievous) Scrooge plays up the moment. He knows Bob won’t believe what’s happened to him, not so much the night of visions, but Scrooge’s transformation into a new creature. When Bob rushes in late, Scrooge lays on his old temperament thick:
The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. No Bob. He was full eighteen minutes and a half behind his time. Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come into the Tank.
His hat was off, before he opened the door; his comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy; driving away with his pen, as if he were trying to overtake nine o’clock.
“Hallo!” growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice, as near as he could feign it. “What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?”
“I am very sorry, sir,” said Bob. “I am behind my time.”
“You are?” repeated Scrooge. “Yes. I think you are. Step this way, sir, if you please.”
“It’s only once a year, sir,” pleaded Bob, appearing from the Tank. “It shall not be repeated. I was making rather merry yesterday, sir.”
“Now, I’ll tell you what, my friend,” said Scrooge, “I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer. And therefore,” he continued, leaping from his stool, and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he staggered back into the Tank again; “and therefore I am about to raise your salary!”
Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. He had a momentary idea of knocking Scrooge down with it, holding him, and calling to the people in the court for help and a strait-waistcoat.
“A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!”[iii]
A face can tell you everything. This is what Christmas is all about: the face of God has been turned on the world in love and light, and if we look full into that wonderful face, the light spreads onto our own. Our faces change. We are warmed and transformed; we see clearly; we become light carriers ourselves. We are like candles, lit by the great fire of God’s glory and love, sharing it with all the other faces to which we turn.
The big day is upon us. What should we do to prepare, beyond the wrapping, cooking, cleaning, traveling? We should turn our faces toward God’s face, in confidence he has already shone his face on us through Jesus. One day, the LORD’s glory will overtake everything in all eternity. As John writes in his Revelation: “I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp.” (21.22-23). That day is coming, but until then, let us repent, which means, to turn. Let us turn our faces to God’s face as seen and known in Jesus, letting the light given us now by his Holy Spirit flood our lives.
In these precious days before and during Christmas, let us simply attend to Jesus. Let us give Jesus our attention, taking time to look and listen, through Scripture, on a walk in prayer, in the quiet of our beds, through the candle illuminating a nativity scene. Let us give Jesus our attention. Soon we’ll be singing, O Come Let Us Adore Him, but before we can adore, we must first attend. We must look and listen and receive the light of his salvation. Because we can only love, if we let him love us first.
This week, may you be welcomed and warmed in Jesus; reconciled and restored in Jesus. May you be loved. And as you go, may that same love and light spread from your face the faces of all you meet this Christmas. Amen.
[i] C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia
[ii] Hark! The Herald Angles Sing
[iii] Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
Luke Knight 