EXODUS

2: 1-15 - Fleeing From Consequence

Our sins can weigh heavily on our consciences. When we do something wrong, the feeling of guilt can be overwhelming; sometimes, it feels as if all we could possibly do is to try to run away from our problems and flee from the consequences of our actions. The reason for this is because sin leaves us feeling heavy, and all we want to do when we carry our sins is to shed that burden of guilt. Ironically, our instinct of running away from our problems never solves them, and will cause that guilt to linger even longer.

Moses, who plays an integral role in Salvation History and is considered one of the great men of Scriptures, experienced this himself. As a Hebrew living in the house of Pharaoh, he witnesses an Egyptian mistreating one of his fellow Hebrews and is overcome by anger, killing the Egyptian in the process. He does not seem to feel remorse for his actions until it is revealed that his act was known by others. Moses’ reaction was to flee from Egypt and to try to settle in another land. It wasn’t until this happened that Moses began his mission after the events at the Burning Bush. 

This story holds a valuable lesson for us - Moses fled the consequences of his actions out of fear of punishment. Although guilt may have played a factor, his flight was motivated more so by the fear of getting caught rather than the virtuous feeling of remorse. He acted righteously in the land of Midian, where he fled, but how could a life of good acts make up for the act of killing someone, let alone satisfying the heavy weight of guilt? In God’s infinite wisdom, he called Moses to deliver the Hebrews from Egypt, which meant Moses had to return to the land he fled - he had to come face to face with the act from which he ran away. Moses atoned for the sin he committed by doing what he was called to do by God, even if it meant facing those consequences. We must do the same - fleeing from our sins only worsens the effect of sin. It is only by addressing the sin that we can begin to heal the damage within us. We must return to the “scene of the crime,” the origin of our suffering, in order to face the consequences. It is through obedience to God and true atonement that we shed the weight of guilt.

The reason why we choose to watch movies or follow along closely with a good book is because of the stakes involved in the hero’s journey. Why was the hero called to undergo the journey in the first place? What is it about their past that they need to overcome in order to be successful in reaching their destination? If we are watching a movie or reading a book about how powerful the hero is and how easy it is for them to achieve their goals, the story is boring and not worth following along. But if the hero overcomes the limitations of the past and battles through the challenges that arise along the way, we start to cheer them on because we witness their growth. The same can be said on our journeys toward God. Whatever God is calling us to do is the best version of ourselves; God wants us to be as perfect as we possibly can. But striving for perfection is extremely difficult. Remaining faithful to the will of God is a challenge at which we do not always succeed.

Moses’ journey, from beginning to end, prefigures the life journey of every single Christian, from being called for something greater to passing through the waters of baptism for salvation to overcoming the difficulty of our time in the wilderness of the world. Just as God fed Moses through Manna, he nourishes us through the Body of Christ in the Eucharist. Still, not everyone rises to this calling despite making those first few steps. The Christian life is going to be difficult because the path towards God requires us to pass through the brutal wilderness. We see this to an extent every year during the 40 days of Lent. By purifying our behavior, practicing charity, and intentionally praying as we should, the days of penance in Lent will eventually lead to the overwhelming joy of Easter. Those who could not appreciate the purification process of the wilderness in Exodus, as Paul says, should serve as a warning to us when we are tempted. A good story will juxtapose two possible paths through two examples, usually in the form of characters; both characters come from similar backgrounds and face similar challenges, but the one who overcomes the obstacles along the way becomes the hero. The one who gives up and gives in to their basest identity, like those in the desert being led by Moses, can only hope to serve as warning to future generations.

The path towards God is long and arduous, as it should be. In our sinful states, we have distanced ourselves so far from God that we hardly deserve to be reunited with Him. Although He wants us to be with Him and is overjoyed when we make the attempt to pursue Him, He could still transcend time and space and miraculously make that journey easy. He intentionally chooses not to because He knows that there is a valuable lesson in the obstacles we must overcome: God is someone and something worth suffering for, and we have the opportunity to prove it by taking our time and putting in the necessary work to prove to Him that we truly want to reach our most foundational human calling - to be with Him.

Our names are fundamental aspects of our identities. Within our names is something that defines who we are and how we are raised by those who name us. If someone is named after a saint, their parents most likely want their child to emulate the actions of that saint throughout their lives. Someone named Francis might dedicate their life in service to the poor, while someone named Augustine might dedicate their life to studying and contemplating the Word of God. If a child has a very unique name, their parents might want them to stand out among their peers on first impression. Regardless of what our name is, it is clear that names are not merely meant to identify us to others. They speak volumes about who we are deep down.

With this in mind, it evokes an intense feeling of curiosity to know God’s name. If God has a name, what can that tell us about who He is rather than just a title used to refer to Him? “God” tells us nothing about Him, but it is useful to use when referring to Him. Fortunately, Moses used his opportunity to speak to God intimately by asking him His name. God’s response is remarkably profound - “God replied to Moses: I am who I am. Then he added: This is what you will tell the Israelites: I AM has sent me to you” (Exodus 3:14). While the english translation prevents us from using a distinct word for the name of God (The Israelites used the sacred letters YHWH as His name), what we do get from a translation is the breadth of meaning that exists within the name.

“I AM” has no limit to it - there is no reference to the limits of time, there is nothing specific that limits the identity of God, and there is no action or verb that limits God to only certain things. This name tells us that God is the essence of existence. He is not merely the creator. He is not merely the protector. He is not simply in the present. He is not merely loving. He is not merely merciful. He is not merely just. He is love itself. He is mercy itself. He is justice itself. There is no past to God and there is no future to God. God simply is. 

Although the original practice of the Passover feast focused on the unblemished lamb, the use of unleavened bread was extremely important as well. There is perhaps no food more significant to human history than bread, and its use in religious rituals throughout time comes as no surprise. Bread itself is something more profound than what it appears to be - all living things need food for survival, but bread is uniquely human. To make bread requires additional work that no other animal could do, but it also exemplifies our calling as human beings in service to God. We take what God gives us in wheat and water, and we create something far more nourishing than its initial state.

Bread takes time, though. It needs to be set out for a while in order for yeast to permeate and break down the dough. This is why the Israelites ate unleavened bread at Passover - both at the original Passover and the subsequent remembrances, the Israelites were instructed to dress as if they were ready to leave at a moment’s notice. There was no time for the bread to sit out and rise, they had to have food ready for their journey. 

God intentionally instructed the use of unleavened bread as a sign of his promise to Israel - a food that usually requires time and labor to make would be simplified so that the Israelites could focus on their journey; through this, God indicates that he will take on their burdens as they obeyed his instructions. This is why, when the journey lasted far longer than expected and food became scarce, God provided them with bread from Heaven, Manna. This is why, when Christ came, he clearly declared himself the Bread of Life - both the gift of nourishment itself and the giver who puts in the labor needed to produce the gift. This is why, in the Our Father, we ask God to give us our daily, or epiousios (Greek for “Super-substantial”) bread. What nourishes us physically through the properties of bread, nourishes us substantially through God’s self-giving love.

There is great difficulty in being religious in modern times. In an age of scientism and immediate access to all information known to man at the click of a button through the internet, there is seemingly no reason why we should dedicate our lives to something that cannot be proven. In fact, if there were a way for religious mysteries to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt, people might actually be more religious - if God wanted us to follow a religion that worships Him, shouldn’t He somehow prove its validity to us considering the times in which we live?

Let’s imagine that God revealed Himself completely and obviously to us and affirmed that Catholicism offers a complete method of worship. Would everyone immediately convert to Catholicism and worship God for the rest of their lives? Although this is a hypothetical, the Bible tells us repeatedly that this simply would not happen. There are many people throughout Scripture who are shown physical signs of the reality of God, who still fall away from Him despite these revelations. After the parting of the Red Sea that saved the Hebrews from the Egyptians, the Hebrews (who were filled with awe at God’s power) began to complain about leaving Egypt less than two months after their miraculous escape! When Jesus miraculously fed the masses with only five loaves of bread and two small fish, the people clamored about him being the Messiah but immediately left him when his discourse on the Bread of Life proved too difficult to live by. Even Peter himself, who was revealed the glory of Christ in its entirety and first identified the truth of Christ, needs to be formally corrected by Paul in Antioch because he becomes complacent in his ministry to the Gentiles.

In reality, knowing the truth about God’s existence would never be enough for us as humans to give ourselves over to Him. It is one thing to know the truth, but it is a monumental task to dedicate our lives completely to the truth. For some, it’s much easier to give it up entirely. We may like to imagine ourselves as intelligent people who will accept anything based on rationality, but we are actually quite hypocritical, and will often abandon anything that is mildly inconvenient. Regardless, God still gives of Himself entirely to us, just as He still provided manna from heaven for the grumbling Israelites. Rather than grumble ourselves about how difficult it is to follow God, we should take up our crosses and follow Christ because we know the Truth.

When the priest stands at the altar to offer up the sacrifice of the Mass on behalf of the congregation, he is simultaneously acting in the person of Christ, the High Priest, Moses, and most simply, a representative of us. His posture at the altar, unique to him compared to ours, is marked by the outstretching of his arms; we call this posture the orans, from the Latin word for “praying.” With this posture, he is offering up the prayers of the faithful and the sacrifice of the Mass, and emulating the pose of Moses in the battle against Amalek and the form of Jesus while he suffered on the cross. In addition to the obvious physical weariness that comes from lifting one’s arms, a priest will grow weary from offering everything on behalf of his flock, just as Moses grew weary in the battle and just as Jesus grew weary on the cross. It is our responsibility as the congregation to support and aid the priest in all that he does so that he may be strengthened when it comes time to offer the sacrifice of the Mass for us.

The orans pose can be found at multiple points in the Mass, but it is always in the context of the priest offering things up for us, just as Christ offered himself on the cross. On a deeper Scriptural level, though, we can further understand why the priest takes up this pose by reading in this passage from Exodus about a battle between the Israelites and Amalek. For whatever reason, the Israelites were successful only when Moses kept his arms raised during the battle; as soon as he dropped them, they began to lose. The battle was long. Moses grew weary from keeping his arms raised, so Aaron and Hur held his arms up for him and the Israelites won. During the Mass or in Adoration, you may occasionally notice that when the priest offers incense or at the moment of the consecration, certain altar servers will hold back the sleeves of his chasuble. This is not just practical; it is a recreation of Aaron and Hur aiding Moses as Moses aids their people. The priest offers the Mass for us, and we are unable to receive the Eucharist without him. The life of a priest is also very wearisome; in addition to his sacramental responsibilities, he is in charge of the operations of an entire parish and is also called upon to provide emotional and spiritual support to those in need. Priests can easily grow weary simply because they are lovingly working for the sake of our souls. We must emulate Aaron and Hur by lifting up the arms of the priest in his work. We cannot consecrate the Host. We cannot offer up the Mass on our own behalf. The priest must do this for us. But we can help him in all that he needs outside of the Mass so that he can be strengthened when it is time to offer up the Sacrifice of the Mass for his congregation. He is doing this for us, as we undergo a spiritual battle against sin and death. As long as he holds the orans pose, we are winning. 

In addition to this, a priest is not born a priest. He is formed and grows within a parish as a member of the congregation before he answers the call to be a shepherd. There are future priests within our midst right now. They are having the Mass offered for them by the priests. They are undergoing the spiritual battle against sin and death with us. Some of them might even be the ones holding back the sleeves of the chasuble during Mass or Adoration. We are not only called to aid our priests when they grow weary; we are also called to form and educate the young men in our communities so that they may faithfully offer the sacrifice of the Mass on our behalf when they become priests. You have a very simple responsibility as a member of the congregation: aid the weary and educate the young. Our future success as a Church depends on it.

To live as a Catholic is remarkably simple. We have literally been given a list of what to do and what not to do; all other “rules” within the Church merely flow from this list in one aspect or another. The life of a Christian is simply living out the Ten Commandments, keeping faithful to the things that God asks of us and refraining from those things that He asks us not to do. Interestingly, God only asks us to do two things: to keep the Lord’s Day holy and to honor our father and our mother. The other eight commandments are very clear instructions to avoid certain sins. In all ten, both the positive and negative, the entire Law and everything that it takes to be a Christian is encompassed. These are the ten most important Laws, and one can argue that they are also listed from most important to least important, but in our day-to-day lives, we break these commandments far more often than we think.

When God asks us not to covet our neighbor's wife or goods, He is commanding that we refrain from sins of the heart; evil desires, even when they are not acted upon, are breaking the 9th and 10th commandments - these are probably the most common sins of ours. We are then commanded not to bear false witness - to emulate God through Truth, and as Christ tells us to let our yes mean yes and our no mean no. God commands us not to steal or to commit adultery: when we allow our evil desires to lead us to act in sinful ways, we are physically manifesting sin. This is totally contrary to the nature of God, perverting and distorting His act of becoming physical through the Incarnation, which we do out of selfishness and weakness. When God tells us not to kill, we as Christians must immediately call to mind Christ’s fulfillment of this commandment when he tells us: “But I say to you whoever is angry will be liable to judgment.” The act of killing and murder is precipitated by anger, which means that God is telling us to seek out the root cause of our physical sins so that we may not even be tempted to commit them. Now we are finally given one of two instructions: to honor our father and mother. This is expressed through obedience, whether that is to our parents, our elders, our bosses, our priests, or the authority of the Church. God is very clear: He never commands us to follow our conscience, but to obey those to whom we have been entrusted (recall Christ’s order to his followers to obey the chief priests, but to not follow their hypocritical example). God commands that we keep the Lord’s Day holy: Go to Mass on Sunday. To opt out for an insufficient reason is breaking this third commandment, one of only two things that God asks of us. 

The second commandment is to not use God’s name in vain. In the past, the worst profanities were related to invoking the name of God in this way. Now, people use these profanities freely while other words have become unconscionable to utter; this is an indication that we as a society are breaking the number one commandment: we are not to have any other gods besides the One. When we elevate other things in life over God, we have elevated them to a place of worship and demoted God to an afterthought. This is far more common than we think: do you push God aside for anything else in your life at any single moment? If you break any of the commandments, you are breaking the first. To live according to how God asks of us is remarkably simple, but it does require careful attention to our thoughts, our words, and our actions. When you find yourself wavering in obeying His law, simply refer to the list He provided. Obeying them all will easily lead you to obeying the first: loving God, both directly and in His creation.

When we approach the sacrament of confession and prepare ourselves through an examination of conscience, there are plenty of ways in which we can consider which sins we have committed. The best thing to do is to look at the Ten Commandments, since these were directly given to humanity by God and consist of the most important Laws for us. Another list to consider is the seven deadly sins, since they consist of sins that seem to naturally generate other sins. When we go to confession, we are in a state of remorse, but we shouldn’t simply seek out repentance because of our fear of God’s Wrath or the consequence of the Law. Instead, the Law exists to maximize the joy and meaning that we can obtain through living a life properly ordered according to the will of God.

Fear of the Lord is an incredible gift and virtue, and virtues are those things in direct opposition to vices, which are sins. Fear of the Lord keeps us humble, allows us to remember that we are subservient to God and beholden to His Will alone. But as is the case with most of our language, things that might apply to humanity do not apply in the same way to God; fear is one such example. To be fearful of someone else is to not trust them, to know that at any moment, they can inflict upon you pain, discomfort, or any other negative emotion. Fear is a biological response to potentially life-threatening situations, which is why we are usually afraid of the unknown. On the other hand, fear can also be conflated with intimidation, and there are times when intimidation is good for us. To be fearful of an authority figure is simply to recognize their capacity over you; it does not necessarily mean that they will abuse their authority. When we consider the gift of Fear of the Lord, we are not “terrified” or spooked out by the presence of God; rather, we are intimidated by His awesome power. He uses that power to love, nothing more. We hear multiple references throughout Scripture, though, to the “Wrath” of God, the consequence of severe disobedience. Wrath is usually what instills fear within us when it comes to another human, and wrath is one of the seven deadly sins. But the Wrath of God is not like the wrath of Man. The Wrath of God is not a sin on the part of God, but the fullest expression of His divine power when combating the power that sin has over His creation. We do not want to find ourselves in the crossfire between the fearful power of Supreme Goodness and the corrupting power of sin; this is why it is absolutely crucial that we work to rid ourselves of sin in this life.

To want to rid ourselves of sin is an inherent good. To go to the sacrament of confession is an inherent good. But God’s Law, which guides us as we enter the confessional, was not given to merely keep us in check or to keep us afraid of what God might do if we are disobedient. The Law is meant to keep us truly happy, fulfilled, and blessed according to how we were created. If we enter into the confessional with the Laws commanded by God to Moses on our mind, we should also enter into the confessional with the greatest law on our mind, which was held sacred by the Jews and which Christ confirmed in his public teaching: you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is a positive law, something we must do, rather than something we must not do. This is a direction, a calling, an expectation, a responsibility. How do we do it? Christ tells us: love your neighbor as yourself. Love God’s creation as He loves us. This is not based in any fear, but only in the overwhelming power of sincere love.  

As the season of Lent approaches its end, you will certainly notice how different a church will look in its interior. Every image depicting Christ or a saint will be covered in a red or purple cloth and will not be unveiled until Easter. The crucifix, which is always the most prominent and visible image in a church, will be unveiled on Good Friday when we commemorate the Lord’s passion and death. Every moment that involves the use of veils is significant: the imagery of the history of the Church is now hidden from us. All images will remain hidden until Good Friday, when the only image we see is Christ on the cross. Then, in a glorious display of remembering Salvation History through the images within our church, all veils are lifted on Easter Sunday. 

The veiling of images is as symbolically important as it is visually striking; the moment we walk into the church, we realize just how many images actually exist within a church and how different this time of the year must be for the church to look this way. Images are helpful throughout the year to aid in our prayer life, to model ourselves after the saints, to remember the life of Christ. However, now is the time to begin focusing specifically on Christ when we approach Holy Week. The first image to be unveiled will be the crucifix on Good Friday, when we can participate in the passion and death of our Lord. Then, at the Easter Vigil, the images of the church will be unveiled together once more, as the fullness of Christ’s Church is reminded of its foundation  - the Resurrection. The veil speaks to us in two ways: first, it hides certain images, just like Christ “hid” his divinity as he went to his death. This was not a trick, but a chance for God to show His love towards us in the best way we can as human beings: by sacrificing Himself for us. Second, a veil indicates a sense of separation and longing. We want to see Christ, we want to remind ourselves of the saints, we want to recall the motherly love of Mary. But when these images are veiled, we can remember how much we need to work on our own holiness. Christ’s holiness was present during his earthly life, but so many ignored it because it was not apparent, as we see in this Sunday’s Gospel. The images of our faith are now hidden, but we have already glimpsed them before. This is a reminder that we must not forget what lies behind the veil, and we wait in anticipation for participating with those images once more.

The imagery of a veil is used prominently throughout the history of religion - veils, either literal or metaphorical, are what separate this earthly life with what is unseen beyond in heaven. In the Temple, a veil separated the Holy of Holies from the outside world. At Christ’s death, this veil was literally torn in two: in Christ’s sacrifice, God permanently lifted the spiritual veil that existed between heaven and earth. Just as Christ came to us in earthly form, God’s lifting of the spiritual veil was expressed in the literal and physical rending of the Temple veil. The veiling within churches today reminds us of that time before God lifted the veil, but God has kept the veil lifted so that we, even in our earthly lives, can experience heaven on earth. We witness this lifting of the veil every time we go to church, participate in the Mass, and witness the miracle of the Eucharist.

There is a recurring message within Jesus’ public ministry where he warns everyone, both those who are following him and those who challenge him, that we must be prepared for the coming of the Kingdom, since we will not know the hour or the day. After the Resurrection, Jesus’ Ascension into Heaven, and the events at Pentecost, the Apostles were filled with a fervor that emboldened them to go to the ends of the world preaching the Gospel. To them, they figured Christ was returning soon, and they were desperate to reach as many people as possible before then. Eventually, though, the Apostles died out, Christians began to write down the stories of Jesus so that they would not be lost, and 2000 years later, Christ still has not returned. 

What has happened to us as people of God as we await the coming of the Lord? We have become lazy and complacent. We are not filled with that same fervor the Apostles had because, after all, it has already been 2000 years. What are the odds he comes back in our lifetime? We have become like servants who are unprepared for the return of their master because they did not know the hour or the day of his return. We are like the Hebrews in the desert, impatient with Moses as he receives the tablets of the Law far away on the mountain, who immediately construct a golden calf so that they may have an idol as their leader like the Egyptians. What happened to the servants unprepared for their return of the master? They are punished by their master. What happened to the Hebrews who worshipped the golden calf? They are punished by Moses, and by God.

Just because we follow God in name does not mean that we are no longer sinners. Just because we practice the sacraments occasionally does not mean that we avoid crafting our own golden calves when God does not seem present. We still have the tendency to give in to the ways of the world because everyone else is doing it, but this makes us unprepared for the return of our master. This is not something we should take our chances on - we must devote ourselves to being prepared for his return. We must reject the golden calves that distract us from this mission. We do not know the hour or the day when he returns, so it is best that we remain in a state of preparedness.

In order for human societies, civilizations, communities, and groups to flourish, they need a courageous leader who is willing to go against popular opinion in order to bring about the greatest good for the people they protect. This is most commonly seen in households, when parents are accustomed to telling their children no despite what their children might want. This is rarely seen at the highest levels of government and politics, when power is attained by playing to the masses and promising whatever it is they desire. The difference here is love: parents have an authentic love for their children, and truly want their children to be protected even if it places them in a negative light, whereas the allure of power that comes from politics is guided by selfishness.

Although it is rare, humanity has only been able to move forward when the leaders of large groups (not just families) are willing to do what is best for their people despite its unpopularity; humanity was preserved by the goodness of Noah in the face of the evil of his generation, Jacob’s son Joseph’s love and care for his family in the face of their rejection of him allowed them to survive in Egypt, Moses was willing to uphold the guidance of God despite constantly being challenged by the Israelites in the desert, David refused to kill his enemy Saul because he was his king, and Mary was willing to say yes to becoming the mother of the Messiah. These are the figures we should remember when thinking about what it takes to be a good leader: you must protect your people out of love for them, like a parent will protect their children. This sometimes means you have to say no, you have to be the bad guy, you have to be unpopular; but this is the essence of love, because you are not doing it for your own ego or for the sake of your reputation. You are doing it because you genuinely love them and want what is best for them. In this passage from Exodus, God is ready to destroy the Israelites for their unfaithfulness, but Moses reminds God of His promise to Israel. God is not quick to anger or emotional in His reactions; He uses this threat to extract the protecting nature of Moses. God tests Moses and calls him to be the great leader he is capable of being, out of love for his people. This test proves that Moses has the rare quality of protecting and loving those whom he leads, rather than becoming absorbed in the power that comes with his position.

While humans are capable of becoming protective and loving leaders, many choose not to. Perhaps this reflects the weakness of human nature, but the fact that anyone is capable of putting love in front of selfishness is a sign of tremendous hope. The fact that God became a man and exemplified how we can perfect the leadership role that we are called for indicates that it is possible for any of us to be one of these rare protectors. All it takes is a genuine love for those whom you are called to protect. If God is calling you to be a leader, accept this responsibility with the goal of protecting your people and acting out of love for them.

Many people distinguish and compare God’s demeanor in the Old Testament with God’s demeanor and Jesus’ actions in the New Testament. The God of the Old Testament is seen as angry, jealous, prone to violence, and impossible to please. On the other hand, the God of the New Testament is seen as loving and forgiving, and Jesus acts this out by mingling with sinners rather than the holy ones, forgiving sins, and dying on the cross in the ultimate act of sacrificial love. There is also a common, albeit frustrating, sentiment that the God of the Old Testament was too angry, so Christians came up with a new take on God in the New Testament to mitigate the damage a violent God would have on trying to evangelize. This is completely wrong. 

Blurring the lines between Old Testament and New Testament, we know something about God that has gone unchanged since we first encountered Him: He is both merciful AND just. When we consider our own behavior as human beings, we are often either one or the other. When we have been wronged personally, we call for justice with no interest for mercy. When we have wronged others, we plead for mercy and an alleviation from consequence. God does not operate based on emotions this way like us; He is perfectly merciful and perfectly just. 

This seems to be the source of our misunderstanding of God in the Old and New Testaments. The God of the Old Testament is just, but also shows mercy - “The LORD, the LORD, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity, continuing his kindness for a thousand generations and forgiving wickedness and crime and sin” (Exodus 34:6-7). However, God does not declare the “guilty guiltless”; He also does not punish arbitrarily, but simply permits the completion of corruption. At the same time, Jesus is not merely merciful, but often quite strict and rigid in his teachings out of a duty to true and authentic justice. When we are challenged by misunderstandings and misreadings of scripture, it becomes necessary for us to go back and read the word of God ourselves rather than rely on baseless assumptions about the text.

In a small church in Rome, there is a famous statue of Saint Teresa of Avila in Ecstasy by the world-renowned sculptor Gian Lorenzo Bernini. The statue shows Teresa being pierced in the heart by an angel with a spear, based on a vision the saint had while describing an experience of religious ecstasy. The white marble statue is contrasted by dazzling rays made of gold shining on the figures. When this sculpture comes to mind, one might not remember if the rays are coming from above the statue or if they are emanating from Teresa herself.

This statue captures the essence of communion with God. Although those golden rays are not part of the statue, they are unified in the mind because Teresa’s expression so clearly mimics the glory and radiance of God. This statue is one mere depiction of a theme commonly found in the Bible: when an individual becomes close enough to God, they will eventually reflect His radiance in a way that makes them unrecognizable. One of the most famous examples of this is Jesus appearing to certain disciples after the Resurrection who do not immediately recognize him. Jesus is also described in a similar way during the Transfiguration, although what makes him unrecognizable here is the intensity of his radiance.

It is easier to understand this happening through the person of Christ because of his divinity, but humans are also described as reflecting the radiance of God. Moses, after receiving the Law on Mount Sinai, returns to his people with a face so radiant that the people will not approach him out of fear. From this point forward, whenever Moses converses with God and returns to his people, he wears a veil to cover his face. Like so many events in Scripture, these stories are substantial manifestations of implicit spiritual truths. The closer we become to God and the more we do His will, the more we will radiate His glory and magnificence. For some, like Moses or Teresa, this reflection of radiance becomes physical.