Last Epiphany Year C 2025: Exodus 34:29-35

When I was in college, I took a class called Human Rights in Theory and Practice. In that class, we had a discussion about where our rights come from. And the consensus in the class was essentially that they come from being human; they are intrinsic. I would add that they come from God. After class on the day of that discussion, I was talking about it with my stepdad, who taught civics. I posed the question to him and his response was “from the government”. When I pushed back with the answer my class had discerned, his reaction was, “well that’s nice, but who is enforcing it?” And I see his point. But I still think my class of potentially overly-idealistic undergrads was right. Just because a community is unable to act on the rights which are given by God does not mean that they don’t deserve those rights.

There have been plenty of times throughout history when people’s knowledge that they should have the rights that their government is withholding from them call those whose rights are being withheld to rise up and demand equal protection under the law. And, there are times when the belief that everyone should have the same privileges has led those in power to advocate for the powerless. More importantly however, we all need to remember first and foremost that rights are not pie. Other people getting more doesn’t mean you get less. But, most importantly, even if they were like pie, our responsibility as Christians is to ensure that the love of God is felt by all, even when, especially when, there is a cost to us.

In order to begin this task of universality, we have to truly see each other for who we are as individuals. I was speaking with a family this week who is planning the funeral of their loved one, and we were chatting about her life. One thing her daughter said that has stuck with me was that one thing which made their loved one a particularly good friend was how she took the time to get to know you, and then she demonstrated that deep knowledge by the way in which she gave gifts that left you feeling like she really saw who you were. That she would spend hours pouring over magazines finding just the right thing for the right person.

Have you ever had someone like that in your life? Someone who cares about who you are and takes the time to get to know you? Someone who sees who you are as a gift? The ideal answer to that would be, “of course, that someone would be everyone who has affirmed their baptismal covenant to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.” But it is unfortunately the case  far too often that people who proclaim themselves Christians also claim to have all the answers regarding what it is to be Christian, which is code that you must  follow their definition of what they determine a Christian ought to be. Not only is this a convoluted twist in making concerns for others actually about themselves, it is idolatry of the self cloaked in Jesus. 

While we can certainly look to one another for examples of how to be more like Jesus, typically the folks lifting themselves up as examples are missing the mark. In the least bad scenarios, Christians who do this are just self-absorbed people that no one really wants to be around. In the worst case scenarios, we do things like Iowa lawmakers who passed a bill that will eliminate state civil rights protections for transgender people or like a bill that is in front of the Nebraska legislature which, in the words of our bishop Scott Barker in his testimony against the bill, “seems to be motivated by political grandstanding at best and prejudice and ignorance of Nebraska’s trans community at worst”. A significant portion of the proponents of those bills are people who proclaim Jesus Christ but refuse to see Christ working in others in ways that don’t fit into their vision of the Church. But we are called to be who God would have us be, not who others demand we be.

How has God transformed you into who God would have you be? All of our texts today are focused on transformation, the transfiguration of Jesus and of Moses. Moses’ story is much longer than we often remember when we include his receipt of the Law from the Lord. Today’s reading about Moses picks up in the middle of the story. The Lord gives Moses the Law for 11 chapters, starting in chapter 20. The Lord begins to speak with the Ten Commandments, but then continues with additional instructions, including but not limited to how to set up a mobile dwelling, or tabernacle, for the Lord in the middle of the Israelite camp - like the dwellings Peter wants to build for Moses and Elijah in the Gospel text today. In Chapter 32, Moses has been on the mountain and received the Law, comes down the mountain to find his people worshiping a calf, which the Lord warned him of when he sent Moses back down the mountain. In his anger Moses smashes the stone tablets on which God had written the covenant. Moses returns to the mountain. Moses and the Lord have this moment where Moses basically says to the Lord, “you see what I’m dealing with?” He reminds the Lord of the covenant - which the people broke while the Lord was writing it down - and the Lord chooses to keep his promise. The Lord reminds Moses that “my presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” Moses says, “if your presence won’t go, don’t even take us from here,” recognizing that the Lord is what makes Moses and his people distinct from every people on the face of the earth. It is after all of this that new tablets are made, the covenant is renewed, and here’s where we pick up the story today where Moses came down the mountain with his face shining.

The people were afraid to come near Moses with his shining face. So their solution was to cover him up. How have you or I expected others to cover themselves because of our own fear or discomfort? When have others refused to see you or your gifts as precious to God? How have you been asked, or forced, to cover the light of Christ that shines from you?

What would have been a better solution? Paul encourages the church in Corinth, and us, to cast aside the veil. Let the light of Christ shine through others and ourselves and be unafraid for as Paul encourages us as he concludes his letter to the Philippians (4:8-9): “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.” I choose to interpret my stepdad’s jadedness about who determines our worth as a call to action. A call to create a world where we are all not just allowed but encouraged to show our shining faces because we are all children of a loving God who calls us to be the best versions of ourselves, not a poor copy of anyone else. We can create a world where we all ascend the mountain together and come back down without fear, with shining, unveiled faces. Amen.