There was once a bleach-product commercial—I will spare you the name since I am not running an advertisement. In the commercial, a young celebrity arrives at a red-carpet event in a luxurious car. As he steps out, the whiteness of his shirt is portrayed as being so brilliant that the paparazzi struggle to look at him. Those wearing sunglasses hurriedly put them on, while others shield their eyes with their hands.

That exaggerated scene reminds me of a far greater reality in Scripture.

When Moses descended from Mount Sinai after spending forty days in the presence of God, “the skin of his face shone”, and Aaron and the children of Israel were afraid to come near him (Exodus 34:29–30). Similarly, at the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus’ appearance was transformed before His disciples, and “his clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them” (Mark 9:3, NIV).

Yet this was not brilliance merely for the sake of dazzling men. Contact with glory begets glory.

More importantly, Moses did not descend from Sinai merely with a radiant face; he came down carrying the commandments of God. There was both glory and substance. Likewise, on the Mount of Transfiguration, the splendour surrounding Jesus was accompanied by a weighty revelation concerning His mission: Moses and Elijah “spake of his decease which he should accomplish at Jerusalem” (Luke 9:31). The glory did not distract from purpose; it illuminated it.

In these last days, there will be—and already are—deliberate attempts to portray a life rooted in fellowship with God as futile or irrelevant. Jesus warned that “the love of many shall wax cold” (Matthew 24:12). Yet Scripture cannot be broken. God has declared, “The glory of this latter house shall be greater than of the former” (Haggai 2:9).

Joel also writes, “Before their face the people shall be much pained: all faces shall gather blackness” (Joel 2:6). There is something about genuine distinction that commands attention. By reason of divine wisdom, insight, and understanding, a person can carry an unmistakable radiance. As Ecclesiastes declares, “A man's wisdom maketh his face to shine, and the boldness of his face shall be changed” (Ecclesiastes 8:1).

I remember watching Adaobi, who emerged as the overall best student in Mathematics, English, the Sciences, and Agriculture, repeatedly walk to the front to receive her awards. Each time her name was called, she stepped confidently down the aisle while the rest of us watched with a mixture of admiration and, perhaps for some, a little envy. Excellence had given her a visible distinction.

Indeed, wisdom at every level produces a kind of radiance. Knowledge distinguishes. Understanding separates. Excellence announces itself.

But there is a glory far greater than academic brilliance, natural intelligence, or human achievement. Paul writes:

“But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord” (2 Corinthians 3:18).

We have all been given access to the instrument, environment, and opportunity for transformation: the presence of God, the Word of God, and the Spirit of God. Change, therefore, is not merely something we wish for; it is something we deliberately participate in.

We behold, and we become.

We remain in His presence, and something of His glory begins to rest upon us. Yet the evidence of that encounter must go beyond a radiant face. Like Moses, we must descend from the mountain carrying something—wisdom, revelation, instruction, solutions, ideas, and divine substance capable of transforming our world.

A change in our world must first begin with a change in us.