Sermon
As this is the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany, a season of light, it makes sense that the text for today would be about the brightest light of all. A dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach. The text from Mark is not unlike the story of Moses at the mountain top in Exodus 34: Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. The glory of God is often depicted as a great cloud, or a great light. This particular text from Mark has been used sometimes to point to the disciples not getting it right once again. Here they are trying to keep Jesus and all that he represents, in one place. “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings.” I think though, they were so astonished that they became at a loss for words. We read, “He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.” I'll bet they were! Peter knew about Exodus, Moses' face glowing, and Elijah coming from God. Peter did the best he could, including this new bright spectacle in the same category of those he knew of from his tradition, Moses and Elijah. How would we respond?
From Exodus, we learned that when Moses realized that his face was shining because he had been speaking with God, he began the habit of putting a veil over his face to hide glow. This is the veil that Paul is talking about in the Corinthians passage we read today. The full context of this passage includes demeaning the law and veil of Moses by referring to the stone tablets and Moses' teachings as “ministry of death,” and “ministry of condemnation,” in order to raise up the glory and new unending law of life that comes from Christ. This passage has been used in more evangelical denominations to claim that unbelievers are perishing, bound for hell, and all manner of destruction because they don't believe, using fear to bring souls to Christ. Paul uses rhetoric and comparison and drastic descriptions and extremes to make his points because he was a salesman of sorts. Paul's own context as a persecutor of Christians and his own life experiences including a dramatic conversion to Christianity taught him that the best way he could follow God's call was to speak in frankly melodramatic terms. This gave his message a sense of urgency. As Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “Two thousand years later, in a very different religious situation the proclamation of Christ's light does not require the debasement of Moses' light.”
Paul was speaking as one who wanted to convince. Contrast that with one who speaks as one who wants to share. One who uses love and glory instead of guilt and fear.
Our two scripture passages put together today combine the boots-on-the-ground urgency of Paul with the actual tongue-tying astonishing experience of the transfiguration of Jesus in front of three disciples.
This combination allows us to reflect on a few things. Is the only way to enjoy the true glory of God by having an other-worldly experience? Do we need a road to Damascus wrestling match, or a mountain top cloud and voice and bright light experience? Are the experiences of the disciples' metaphors? What experiences do we have in our own lives that help us answer those questions for ourselves?
I ask, because I believe that is only through experience that we learn the most important lessons throughout our lives. All of our experiences teach us about trust, stability, love, sharing, empathy, honesty, truth, forgiveness, communication, both skills and intangibles. And our experiences teach us when it is time to revise our earlier understandings.
I believe the narrative about the Transfiguration of Christ on that mountain shows us that the way we learn about God in Christ is through our experiences with Christ. Experiences with Christ come to us as a gift. The Transfiguration was a gift to Peter, James, and John. Rodney J. Hunter writes, the revelation of God “comes in God's own time and way – as a gift.” We can't manufacture an experience of Christ on our own, we can't decide to whom or when or how God will give. All we can do is provide the emotional space for the gift to be delivered and experienced.
Church is one way that we learn about, share and experience Christ. Through the community of the Church we are intentional about both giving and accepting the love of Christ to and from our community. The loss of a weekly physical community has been devastating on so many levels. While I remain grateful for the contact that is available, I mourn with you, the losses. You can't have a mountain top experience if you can't get to the mountain.
Fortunately the physical space of the church isn't the only mountain. When we can gather again it will be important that we remember the challenges of this year. We will remember that the love of God was not withheld just because we were not meeting as a congregation in person. It is interesting to remember that having a building to worship in might actually have limitations. One limitation is the danger of leaving the Church inside the church building. We might say, “I went to church this week, it was great, see you next week. Let me get out of these uncomfortable clothes into my real self in comfortable clothes into a comfortable chair.” Without the routine of getting up, dressing in our Sunday best, traveling, paying attention we have discovered that the love of God through this community also happens in those comfortable clothes in that comfortable chair. We enjoy each other sharing that all of us are doing church different. We have discovered maybe anew that worshipping God together does not only happen in here on Sundays. We have found ways to reach out, to speak to people who are not able to live through technology. We have gotten creative in search of the same results – the desire to see and know our friends and know about their well being. Through the unity of our circumstances we have come to recognize how God works through others even without physical proximity. These are not experiences to discard. Next time we find ourselves without the physical presence of others we will remember this time and how the love of God came through despite our distance.
Notice that I said that we can be the mountain. It is not us who will be transfigured before others, but we can provide the place where that love of God will shine before others. Providing a live worship experience for those who are able to be with us through technology is one way we do that. Making decisions about our building, our grounds, our money, our activities, our play and our work are all ways of being the mountain. They're not just committee meetings, they're places to share and grow the love of Christ.
We are being the mountain whenever we work to end injustice, to lift others up onto a level playing field. Rodney J. Hunter, one of these commentators who write so eloquently, says “The transfiguration is therefore also a powerful word to us to take up our cross and follow Christ, to walk in his way that in one way or another will provoke the powers against us, but then ultimately disclose the eternal truth and trustworthiness of God's nonviolent love and justice in the midst of evil.”
“Christians are therefore not called to exhibit a passive love that simply tries to be good and avoid evil. Nor is the way of the cross a private bearing of personal woes for the sake of Jesus. It is rather a vigorous, assertive pursuit of social and personal righteousness through a love that refuses to play the world's power game of domination, exploitation, greed, and deception.”
The juxtaposition of working on a committee, with the powerful words of this commentator seems almost silly. Why would I think that working on a church committee is as important and glitzy and grand as being a force for change against world dominion? It is important to realize that what seems small and private and quiet and insignificant often has a greater impact than the big noisy actions. The transfiguration of Christ reminds us that that love of God in Christ that we have an actual experience of is a great equalizer. That light shines, not on us but through us, whenever we work for the coming of Christ's reign.
Not only is this Sunday the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany, representing light. Today is also the final Sunday before Lent when we will be considering Jesus' journey to the cross. The experience of transfiguration is the end of something as well as the beginning of something.
I invite us to consider this week then, any time when you, I too, have had an overwhelming presence of Christ and felt it deeply. And then, how did that experience influence our lives of faith? How does having had that experience help you make the Lenten journey to the cross? As Christians we know that the cross was not the final answer. The renewal from resurrection and the power of God even over death is what we celebrate at Easter. We can prayerfully consider what is looking to be renewed in us this season. We can the sure knowledge of a transfigured Christ as our rock as we journey to the cross and then beyond to the Hallelujah of Easter morning.
Let us pray.
Stained glass window of the Transfiguration
All Saints' Episcopal Church, Homewood, Alabama,
J.R. Lamb & Co. Photo (C) David R. Bains, 2016.