Since writing the previous article, I have continued to muse on this subject, the fearsome power of God. In particular I have relived over and over that moment when I unwittingly took firm hold of the electric fence. In the presence of such power, one cannot remain unmoved. I moved all right: I flew through the air propelled by a tremendous muscular spasm and then fell unceremoniously in a semi-conscious heap. I didn’t even know it was happening until it was over: it happened that fast.
In likening the power of that electric fence to the awesome holiness of God, I found myself thinking about an occasion more than thirty years ago, where I experienced, along with three other friends, for a couple of split seconds, a blast of glory that fell as though God had pulled back the veil between the temporal and the eternal, just a little, for just a moment.
The remembrance brings to mind an occasion in scripture, when Judas the betrayer arrived in the garden of Gethsemane with a contingent of Roman soldiers and temple guards.
“Jesus fully realized all that was going to happen to him, so he stepped forward to meet them. ‘Who are you looking for?’ he asked.
“‘Jesus the Nazarene,’ they replied.” (John 18:4-5, NLT)
Here most versions say that Jesus responded with, “I am he.” But the “he” does not appear in the original transcripts: you can ascertain that by simply looking in the King James Version and noting that “he” is in italics, as are all words and phrases that were added in order to make better sense in the English language.
What Jesus actually said was, “I AM.”
Going back another fifteen hundred years, when God told Moses to go set His people free from the Egyptian Pharaoh, Moses said, “‘If I go to the people of Israel and tell them, “The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,” they will ask me, “What is his name?” Then what should I tell them?’ God replied to Moses, ‘Say this to the people of Israel: ... I AM has sent me to you.’” (Exodus 3:13-15, NLT).
And then God added, “This is my eternal name, my name to remember for all generations.”
So when Jesus said, “I AM,” he was giving the eternal name of God. And as He did, I believe He let slip a little blast of glory, because look what happened to the bunch that had come out to capture Him: “As Jesus said “I AM he,” they all drew back and fell to the ground!” (v.6)
There are a number of other times where scripture relates an occasion when the glory fell, for instance, 2 Chronicles 5:14 and Exodus 40:35; and in most cases it says either that the people involved could not stand up because of the glory or they could not enter into the area where the glory was manifesting. Our temporal bodies just are not built to withstand the unshielded glory of God.
This brings me to my own experience. It was back when I was living in Victoria. A Christian for about three years at that point, I was part of a vibrant church and an enthusiastic young adults group. Once night after Sunday evening service, four of us went for coffee and fellowship: a young man of about 22, a woman of 30 along with her 13-year-old daughter, and I, 27. We spent a couple of hours in a restaurant having an intense conversation about the things of God. Eventually we piled back into the vehicle in which we’d travelled together and returned to the church parking lot to get the other two cars. Before getting out, though, one of the group suggested we have a bit of prayer before parting. We bowed our heads and closed our eyes. Before anyone of us could say a word, wham! we all found ourselves on the ground outside the car. What had happened was that the Lord had sovereignly chosen to let loose a little blast of glory in the car, and it had the effect of an explosion. Sort of like the electric fence. We four, simultaneously, without conscious forethought, had grabbed for our respective door handles and rolled out on the ground.
I can’t explain it any better than that, and I can’t remember much of what followed. I guess we stood up and brushed ourselves off and talked about what had happened. I do remember looking around at the city lights and talking about how unfamiliar and two-dimensional everything looked. It was as though we’d glimpsed into another realm and now the one we were used to seemed somehow less-than. I do vividly recall that we once again tried to close the evening in prayer, standing in the parking lot, joining hands. I led off, referring to something Jesus said about us believers in John 17:14: “Lord, we are truly not of this world.” And wham! the glory fell again, and so did we.
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