“The voice of the LORD is majestic.“
The word “Majestic” always felt like the Grand Canyon to me: distant and impossibly vast. It’s inspiring, but in the way that images of eagles soaring toward the sunset with motivational quotes are inspiring. It leaves me cold.
God is impossibly vast. And we each need to look that expanse in the face and grapple with our smallness. I don’t want to say anything that might short-circuit that.
But…
this word also tells another, more personal story.
The Hebrew word meaning “majestic” originally began with this character ה . It represents a person standing with arms raised and outstretched. It meant “behold” or“pay attention”. Next is a ד which represents a door or tent flap. It ends with a ר , which depicts a human head in profile, and means “chief”or “authority”. One layer of meaning in this word picture could be “Pay attention to the chief door.”
So when the Psalmist talks about God’s voice being majestic, he’s saying God’s voice points me to a door, and this door is a person. His majesty may accentuate my smallness, but it doesn’t stop there. It’s the door that ushers me into His presence. The point isn’t to intimidate me for the sake of intimidation, but to bring me near.
It reminds me of the time God said, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” His voice was pointing them to the chief door.
It also reminds me of a Bible verse that used to carry a sting. It was painful not because I didn’t believe it, but because I did.
“I have placed before you an open door that no one can shut. “
For years, every time I heard these words, a knot rose in my throat. We had prayed for different doors, from professional doors to ministry doors to open for so many years. We felt prompted to knock on several. And to walk through a few.
But each one shut abruptly, sometimes right away, sometimes after years of diligence. And I’ve spent most of my life on the threshold.
When you feel trapped, it’s natural to try every door in sight. To pound on it, jiggle the knob, and frantically search for a door you may have overlooked…any door to get you out of this, and into that spacious, sunlit someplace else.
After years of slammed doors, I noticed something. This verse isn’t talking about a future door of opportunity (although it’s often used that way). It’s talking about a door that’s already open to us. The chief door.
This is the only door no one can shut in my face. This door, this person is my spacious, sunlit place. Right now. No matter what else is open or closed to me, no matter what I have or don’t have. Other doors clamor for my attention, but they will never be, can never be, the chief door.
I’m standing in front of a freshly slammed door as I type this. I’m stunned. But God’s voice is drawing my attention back to the only door that ever mattered.
God’s voice is drawing my attention back to the only door that really ever mattered. The chief door. And a new feeling is rising in my throat. My mind is forming the words my lips are not quite ready to sing.
“Thank you”.
What does this word picture tell you about God’s voice?