Broken Tablets

Read Exodus 34:1-10

When Moses was absent for a few weeks, precisely because God was teaching him how to lead his people, the Israelites turned to idolatry and started to worship a golden calf. But instead of raining down lightning bolts, God invited Moses to return to the mountaintop. It's his answer to Moses asking God to reveal his glory. Moses might have expected the spectacular, but instead, God reveals his character. While Moses goes up the mountain, the meeting takes place only because God comes down to meet with him. Jesus fully reveals everything God showed Moses about himself. John intentionally quotes this passage when he tells us the Word "became flesh and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14). God has kept his faithful love for thousands of generations. He discloses that his very self is tender, gracious, overflowing with love and truth. We are not Israelites, but because of Jesus, we can trust that God has the same attitude toward us. As God reveals his heart, Moses recognizes the contrast. So, he drops to the lowest posture he can assume and worships. Even after hearing God personally reveal his character, he's asking if God will go with them. After all, this God is perfect, but the people are stiff-necked. The picture is ugly: we plant our feet and refuse to turn toward our Maker. Both egregious and habitual sin make us feel inadequate before God. The Israelites are guilty of both. And after Moses shattered the first set of tablets, how could God stay committed to them? God's response to their sin is unexpected. He both forgives guilt and acknowledges the cost of sin. Because of his forgiveness, our relationship remains intact. He chooses to make a covenant with us. It's an unbreakable promise to love us forever. What he has done is awesome, and the story of his commitment to his people has traveled around the world. At the same time, the consequences of our sin can cascade down through generations. A demanding father might raise an emotionally disconnected daughter who grows up to numb the pain with alcohol. The resulting chaos cripples her son's ability to trust anyone. Notice that God doesn't glue the smashed tablets back together or charge the Israelites for the replacements. So, where's the justice? At Sinai, God gave new tablets for the broken ones and pledged to make a covenant with his people. But how does this address the sin? It's only at the cross where the tension is resolved. Exodus 34 is the commitment to pay. The cross is the full payment, where Jesus's blood is "poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins" (Matthew 26:28). His body didn't stay defeated; God raised him to life. So, how can I pray to a God I've failed? When I'm looking down at my feet in shame, there doesn't seem to be a way back up to God. I'd rather come back to God when I'm more deserving. But if his love constantly overflows from who he is, then I can trust that he will be compassionate and gracious with me. That's the argument Moses makes: Because we're stiff-necked, we need you to make us your treasure. And God is delighted by this prayer. The basis of prayer is not what I have done but who God is.