On the Awesomeness of God

Today, this last Sunday before Lent begins, is traditionally the Feast of the Transfiguration; you know, the one where Jesus and his disciples go up to the mountaintop and Moses and Elijah come to stand on either side of Jesus and the voice of God booms out and all the disciples throw themselves to the ground in terror and Peter is, like, ooh, let's build three booths, one for each of these Holy Dudes...

Years ago I heard a sermon on this subject that focused on Peter's ridiculous attempt to try to contain and manage all that power, and still today I hear that part and I grin: so typical, I think, and so human, and so foolish; he SO doesn't get this.

But today's sermon did a wonderful and somewhat terrifying job of reminding me that I am not so different from Peter.

So much of my work these last few years has been about honoring what Alice Howells calls "the Divine Guest," the Divine presence that lives within each of us.  I do believe that's important work; we need to become aware of that Presence within, and need to release the entailments of that old assumption that God is wholly Other, some big white-bearded guy way far away in the sky.

As I sat in my metaphor class on Friday, listening to all the presentations in which people were exploring the metaphors in use in their own lives, I kept hearing these themes around polarity, separation, and reconciliation.  We grow used to thinking -- and most of us want to think -- that there is one single answer; that there is a right way and a wrong way; that once we "get" it, somehow everything will fall into place and become clear; that it's an either/or question. 

But the problem is that there really isn't One Right Answer.  Because really it's a both/and.  The beauty of it is, it's ALL TRUE.  God is big and out there AND Jesus AND Buddha AND in me AND in you -- even though sometimes that doesn't seem to reconcile and we can't make sense of it.  That's the glory of the Trinity -- it reminds you that there are more dimensions here than we can ever fully comprehend.

But of course I've been (after a lifetime of living in that God is Other and All-Powerful space) busily building a little tent within myself for Godness.  We could characterize that as a noble enterprise, and worthy, which it is; we need to be attentive and attuned to that inner voice of Oneness.  But sitting there in church this morning, picturing the hugeness and terror of a giant thunderstorm, immediately overhead, I got again the awesome power of the God who terrified me so as a child.  And realized my little tent of Godness bears an uncomfortable resemblance to Peter's booth: I've been hoping to contain something that cannot be contained, trying to shelter myself from the scariness of all that power.

I grew up thinking I must be truly blessed.  Because the Bible says "Blessed are those who fear God" -- and I've have always found God to be a terrifying concept/being.  Listening this morning, I realize I still do.  But the good news is this: it's okay to be scared.  It's okay if you're not always in control.  Terror carries gifts with it that I am only beginning to understand.  The tender hand that caressed my cheek into being also hurled these rock cliffs into the waters and split them asunder; it is totally appropriate to find that awesome and overwhelming.

But look at the beauty of this rock, and know that beauty to be grounded in you as well.  We are the rock, and the lichen; we are the leaf that flutters into the crevasse and the surf that pounds the granite into smoothness.  There is power out there, and there is power in here, and power everywhere in between. 


A friend sent me this breathtaking slideshow from the BBC this morning, which helps to clarify how very much otherness and likeness there is in the world.  And watching it, I could hear Rich Mullins singing "Our God is an Awesome God,"  so I went to YouTube to see if I could find it for you.  The videos that feature the original recording are kind of tacky, so at the risk of losing the musical clarity I will post instead a video of one of his live performances: what it loses in musical quality it gains as a reflection on today's learnings...