THROUGHOUT THE SCRIPTURES there is an intermittent thread of theophany. These momentous moments rise exponentially above those of a lower order of clarity. We have all had sudden times of lucidity in the secular context of epiphany—an ‘aha!’ mental shift in the realm of inspiration as we thankfully see a line of semi-coherent thought coalesce into an unanticipated synthesis of puzzle-pieces into a perceptual whole. Epiphany as a theological definition is a “transcendent spiritual instant during which the revelation of Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord becomes a personal reality.” And then there is theophany—those pivotal moments in mankind’s intersection with our universal destiny when God makes himself known in an unmistakable display of preeminent omnipotence. These are instances during which the laws of physics as we know them are violated. The matter of earth and the anti-matter of heaven interact, and the upper realm wedges a new reality into the lower.
We see this very clearly as God sovereignly implements the Covenant of the Law. The Hebrews have grown into a large ethnic population during their four centuries in Egypt. God’s leader of destiny, Moses, has brought them out of slavery and into the desert at the foot of Mt. Sinai, where he reveals himself. “Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently.” (Ex. 19:18) It is here that the Israelites receive the Ten Commandments, here where their journey to the Promised Land is commissioned, and here where they collectively and individually must begin to come to grips with the obedience required of them in the covenantal relationship.
It is to this historical moment that they look back upon five hundred and a thousand years later and beyond during times of separation from God, times when lack of obedience has brought not promise and blessings but curses and woes. The Psalmist cries out for a fresh encounter with God, something that will hopefully reverse the curse and restore the blessings. Half a millennium past the power displayed by God earlier in the desert, he pleads, “Part your heavens, Lord, and come down; touch the mountains, so that they smoke.” (Psa. 144:5) Almost a full millennium after the covenant is established, as the sword of judgment is lifted high over the nation, the prophet Isaiah is overcome by the sense of inescapable national doom, and he too wails in visceral plaint. “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you! Come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you!” (Isa. 64:1-2)
And it is also from Isaiah, perhaps more cohesively than any other single O.T. prophet, that the veiled promise of the coming Epiphany is woven together in messianic prophecy. So: “The Branch of the Lord” (Isa. 4:2) will grow strong from “the stump of Jesse.” (Isa. 11:1) Also, “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.” (Isa. 7:14) And this: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.” (Isa. 9:2) All of these elements of the impending Epiphany will culminate at a fork in time and history where the Messiah’s agony and ecstasy will pivot mankind’s destiny from consignment to hell to the potential of assignation with heaven. “See, my servant will act wisely; he will be raised and lifted up and highly exalted.” (Isa. 52:13) “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.” (Isa. 53:5)
Epiphany and theophany converge and merge in the N.T. There are two powerful places to share from scripture that illuminate this revelation. The first comes from the Gospel of Mark, and occurs at the baptism of Jesus at the Jordan river. “Just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw heaven being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: ‘You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.’” (Mark 1:10:11) This first-hand account was witnessed by John the Baptist. “I saw the Spirit come down from Heaven as a dove and rest upon him. I have seen and I testify that this is God’s Chosen One.” (John 1:32, 34)
The second is recorded in all three of the synoptic Gospels. “After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. A bright cloud covered them, and a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!’” (Matt. 17:1-5; cf. Mark 9:2-7; Luke 9:28-35)
The heavens are rent one yet more time. At the moment of agony, the Gospel of Matthew records this: “And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.” (Matt. 27:50-51) And as a result for our eternity, the author of Hebrews says, “Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body.” (Heb. 10:19-20)
We no longer have to cry out for the heavens to be torn open—Jesus’ death and resurrection have opened them for all time. It is simply a matter now of tearing ourselves away from the thrall of the lower realm and choosing our transcendent destiny.
Q. Are the heavens above me open to my prayers, or closed?
Leave a Reply