Dealing with glimpses of glory

I attended the Service of Thanksgiving yesterday to celebrate the life of my uncle. It was a beautiful occasion. Sad of course, but the whole day felt like one of those days where heaven and earth come together and feel very close – some describe this as a ‘thin place’, when glimpses of glory break through into earthly life to warm our hearts and point us to God. Yesterday was one of those days for me.

Rob Bell describes this wonderfully well in his book ‘What we talk about when we talk about God’.

So when we talk about God,

we’re talking about our brushes with spirit,

our awareness of the reverence humming within us,

our sense of the nearness

and the farness,

that which we know

and that which is unknown,

that which we can talk about

and that which eludes the grasp of our words,

that which is crystal-clear

and that which is more mysterious than ever.  Rob Bell

You don’t have to be a Christian to experience this. You don’t have to be religious at all. Every human being has those moments, even during the most mundane of activities, ‘when you find yourself catching glimpses, clues and glances of depth and dimension and fullness’. It could be a meal that feels more than just a meal or a conversation that feels more than just a conversation. Sometimes it’s like a blinding light that takes your breath away and sometimes it’s far more subtle than that. It can be in that collective energy of a crowd of thousands or when you’re completely alone.

It’s those moments that you want to bottle and keep forever.

I call those moments ‘glimpses of glory’.

So how do you respond when you experience a glimpse of glory?

Do you:-

a) feel afraid?

b) feel unsettled?

c) pretend it never happened?

d) explain it away?

e) treasure it in your heart and tell no one?

f) talk about it with someone you can trust?

g) post about it on Facebook for all to see?

h) battle with feelings of unworthiness? Why me? I don’t deserve this.

i) give thanks to God?

j) do all of the above?

k) do none of the above?

So what did the shepherds do when the angel came to them with the good news of the birth of Jesus?

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified.  Luke 2:9

They were terrified. To be fair, this was more than a glimpse of glory, this was full on glory. They’d never seen anything like it before. Of course, they were scared. It was completely natural. And yes, it’s natural for us to feel scared too, when something out of the ordinary crashes into our lives: something unknown, something we cannot explain, something supernatural. We don’t know how to respond. We don’t know what to do with it. Our natural reaction is to resort to fight or flight. That’s pure instinct.

The angel tells the shepherds not to be afraid. If we can find a way not to be afraid of this new, strange thing that is happening, then we can lay aside our fear and respond in an entirely different way.

The shepherds go with it. The shepherds trust. The shepherds obey. The shepherds ‘spread the word’. The shepherds glorify and praise God ‘for all the things they had heard and seen’.

What can we learn from the shepherds today?

During the service for my uncle yesterday, we sang a hymn that I haven’t sung for many, many years. I’m often dismissive of these old hymns, finding the language hard to understand and the concepts difficult to take on board. Yesterday, the words of this old hymn written in 1873 blew my mind. They’re so relevant to what I’ve been talking about here.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood.

This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Saviour all the day long;
This is my story, this is my song,
Praising my Saviour all the day long.

Perfect submission, perfect delight,
Visions of rapture now burst on my sight;
Angels, descending, bring from above
Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.

Perfect submission, all is at rest,
I in my Saviour am happy and blest,
Watching and waiting, looking above,
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love.

Let this be my story.

Let this be my song.

Let me find rest in blessed assurance and perfect submission.

Let me watch and wait for echoes of mercy and whispers of love.