“And though these nobles of Israel gazed upon God, he did not destroy them. In fact, they ate a covenant meal, eating and drinking in his presence.”
Exodus 24:11 (NLT)
I do not remember reading this before. And I know I have read Exodus many times.
That sentence stopped me because it raised more questions than answers.
They gazed upon God.
How?
Just a few chapters earlier, God says no one can see Him and live. Moses himself will later be told he can only see God’s back. And yet here, seventy plus leaders go up the mountain and look at Him.
The verse right before this makes it even more confusing.
It says they saw something like a pavement of sapphire stone under His feet, as clear as the sky.
Feet.
That detail is strange. Does God have a body? Was this a form? A manifestation? A partial revealing of His glory? Was this Jesus before the incarnation?
Scripture does not fully explain it, and that might be the point.
What they saw was real enough to describe, but not fully revealed.
They did not see God in His fullness. They saw what He allowed them to see.
And the most surprising part is not what they saw. It is what did not happen.
God did not destroy them.
Instead, He invited them to eat.
A covenant meal. In His presence. No fear driven retreat. No immediate judgment. Just nearness.
That stopped me.
Because it shows a God who is holy and unapproachable in His fullness, yet willing to make Himself known in a way His people can survive. A God who reveals enough of Himself to invite relationship, without overwhelming them.
But here is the part that really unsettled me.
These were not random people. These were leaders. Elders. Men who had just witnessed something extraordinary.
And yet, not long after this, they go right back to grumbling. Complaining. Disobeying. Worshiping a golden calf.
This happens before the golden calf.
They have seen the Almighty God. They eat in His presence. And they still fall.
That made me pause.
If seeing God like this did not permanently change them, what does that say about the human heart?
It tells me that experiences alone do not transform us. Even holy ones. Even miraculous ones.
Proximity to God does not automatically equal obedience. Awe does not guarantee faithfulness. A moment on the mountain does not remove the need for daily surrender.
This passage reminded me that God’s presence is not magic. It is relational. It invites response. And response still requires trust, humility, and obedience long after the moment has passed.
They gazed on God. And then they went back to life.
That feels uncomfortably familiar.