Ok, I hate it, hate it, hate it when I come across a vocabulary word that I THINK I should either

1.  Already know, or

2.  Did already know yet have forgotten

I get the sense that I already knew this word, but that I am just not remembering it.

Anyway, here it is:  Effulgence

Definition: shining forth brilliantly; radiant.

Christ is the effulgence of God.

Hebrews 1:3 states:

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high,

John 1:14 says:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

But what has really struck me tonight is the powerful descriptive words and images that I found in Ezekial 10:4, particularly in the NIV translation:

Then the glory of the Lord rose from above the cherubim and moved to the threshold of the temple. The cloud filled the temple, and the court was full of the radiance of the glory of the Lord.

My professor, in his lecture tonight, spoke about the effulgence–or brilliant radiance) of the Glory of Lord.  He said that in the Old Testament, “God’s glory is often depicted as something that can be perceived with the senses”.

And that made me think.

Do I fully appreciate, acknowledge or even welcome the concept of the glory of God being so brilliant, so radiant, that it is something that can be sensed?  In worship?  In private prayer and study?  There have been times–not many–but real times when I have sensed God, and I guess in those moments sensed his glory, in such a way that it was nearly overwhelming, the very realness of it.

But why does that not happen more often?  What is it about me, about the way I approach worship or study or prayert that prevents those moments from being more plentiful, more frequent?  Or, what about the nature of God or His way or plan or whatever with me, seems to keep Him, to keep His face, hidden from me so often?

I don’t know.