So, I brushed up against a spiritual truth this week that’s striking to me because (like most striking spiritual truths) it is: 1) Overwhelmingly present in the Bible and 2) Utterly incomprehensible to me most of the time. 

Before I get into discussing it, I feel like I should make it clear that I do not like this particular spiritual truth. I dislike it because it pesters me. It dislike it because it makes me feel uncomfortable. I dislike it because it threatens to challenge the foundations on which I have built many aspects of my life and renders many of my endless self-evaluations more or less irrelevant.

But most of all, I dislike this particular spiritual truth because it strikes me as completely, utterly, 100% irrevocably TRUE.

Now let’s talk about one of the first instances where you can find this in the Bible, in Exodus Chapter 24, verses 9-18. I’ll set the scene:

It is close to 1445 BC (by Hebrew reckoning, anyway) and Moses, one of the first prophets who interacts closely with God, has just freed the people of Israel from slavery in Egypt and has lead them out to a mountain in the dessert so that they can make a covenant with God. Everyone is more than a little bit excited about the prospect, and in the chapters preceding Chapter 24 Moses has been incredibly busy making sure the people are consecrated and fed and well rested and in essence just prepared for anything God might throw at them. In short, Moses has been working long hours and spending longer weeks preparing for this whole “covenant with God” thing. His life has been a constant helter-skelter, and before God even enters the scene he’s offered sacrifices, burned incense, and gathered the people together for a long batch of corporate worship, all as ways to demonstrate respect to the Being they are about to encounter. And now, as Chapter 24 begins, the culmination of all of his efforts is about to begin. The covenant has been drafted, the covenant has been signed by the people, and now it is time for the covenant to be ratified at the top of the mountain, where God has promised to sign it with Its own hands.

The call goes out in Chapter 24, verse one: “Then God said to Moses “Come up to me, you and Aaron, Nadab and Abishu and seventy of the elders of Israel, and you shall worship from a distance. Moses alone, however, shall come near to me, but those with him shall not come near, nor shall the rest of the people come up with them.”

So now it’s go-time for Moses. He’s been working for weeks getting the covenant ready, the time has come for it to be ratified, and now God wants him to come upstairs to the office and have a little sit-down with the Boss. Needless to say, Moses hops to it, collecting up Aaron and the elders and hurrying up the mountain as quickly has he can, until they are so close that the Bible says they can literally see the form of God standing on top of the mountain, a bright, beautiful, terrible figure waiting for them. They are overcome with worship and begin a spontaneous feast to honor God…and God finally looks to Moses and says the following:

“Come up to Me on the mountain and be there and I will give you the stone tablets with the law and the commandment which I have written for the people’s instruction.”
…
…
…BE THERE?!

“Hey God, it’s Sam, and just by the way, what the f**king F**K?” - Sam, 10 seconds after reading this.

I mean, what part of the context I just set was not clear to God? Moses has been working his butt off for weeks and weeks and weeks now, trying to get this covenant prepared and ratified, and when he’s finally just about there, convinced he’s prepared to do absolutely anything God asks from him, God tells him to come to the top of the mountain and just “be there”. “BE”, as in the Hebrew word for “remain, abide, or rest” and “there” as in “THE TOP OF THE FREAKING MOUNTAIN I JUST CLIMBED SO THAT GOD COULD TELL ME TO SIT STILL.”

The first time I read this, this really bothered me, because anyone who knows me knows I have a really difficult time with the concept of staying still and not doing anything. I don’t like it, not even a little bit. If I am ever confronted with time during which I have nothing planned to do, I automatically make plans to fill up that time so that I can be accomplishing things constantly. If I’m not accomplishing something at every single moment, I feel somehow diminished in value. If I were Moses I would like going to the top of the mountain and “having a talk”. I would like going to the top of the mountain and “ratifying a covenant”. I would like going to the top of the mountain and “making a list of things that still need to be done so that God will give me my very own Transformer and I can go waste those Egyptian punks”. I would like going to the top of the mountain and doing basically anything, except simply trying to be there.

“But”, I said to myself, “by this point in his life Moses was an old man. Maybe climbing the mountain made him tired. Maybe God knew he needed a nap. Maybe the command to ‘be there’ is just God’s way of making it clear that He’s aware of human frailty. Gee what a stand up guy God must be, looking out for an old dude like that…”

The chapter goes on: ”Then Moses went up to the mountaintop, and God’s presence covered the mountain, and the glory of God rested on the mountain and the cloud covered it for six days and on the seventh day God called to Moses from the midst of the cloud.”

Here, maybe you didn’t catch that, let me repeat it.

“and the glory of God rested on the mountain and the cloud covered it for SIX DAYS…”

This is the part of any good Bible study where a dumbfounded Sam throws his Bible across the room and refuses to speak to it for a couple of days.

Because, again, let me reiterate. I kind of have this thing with not feeling like I’m accomplishing anything. I do not feel comfortable just being alone and doing nothing for a few hours. My sense of worth largely derives from whether or not I’m DOING something. Deep down inside me, I feel like I need to be constantly helping people or I’m secretly a bad person for not “giving my all”. And so I work and I run and I worry and I hope somewhere inside it’ll be enough and I feel guilty whenever I don’t do all of that…and in this passage of the Bible, God makes Moses take time out of his busy schedule and his ministry to all of the people who need him and go off by himself and spend SIX DAYS just “being there” on top of a mountain.

So, what does this say about me, if I refuse to acknowledge and apply this truth into my life? Because the account in Exodus isn’t just an isolated event. Over and over again, the Bible asks us to drop what we’re doing and just take time to rest in God. Over, and over, and over.

“Honor the Sabbath, to keep it holy” (Exodus)…”BE in me, and I in you.” (John)…”I will rejoice in you, and you will REST in my love.” (Zachariah)…”do not worry” (Phillipians)…”do not worry” (Matthew)…”do NOT worry” (Ephesians)…”In the world you will have troubles, but be at peace” (John)…”be at peace”(Luke)…”may grace and peace be yours” (Ephesians)…”and the God of peace will give you peace which surpasses understanding” (Phillipians)…”be at peace” (Romans).

“Come to me, everyone who is weary and overburdened, because I will give you rest.” (Jesus, according to John).

Christ offers it…so why is it so hard for me to accept it? Why do I have such an issue with accepting that my God is big, and that anything I can’t get to He’s more than able to handle? Why do I continually sin by trying to find my worth in things I do and therefore refusing His call to come and rest?

I’ve worked myself sick more times than I can imagine, feeding my need to be continually busy…but today, at least for a few hours, I’m proud of myself in that I’ve found the time to lay down, make myself some breakfast, and just “be here”. It’s not much, but here’s hoping God takes it.