Luke 9:28-43 (Year C) Panzer Liturgical Service
“I’ll never be the same again!” That’s what we say when something happens to us that is so amazing, so wonderful, so unbelievable and awesome that we are changed forever. Maybe it’s the birth of your first child… maybe it’s the experience of your own wedding… maybe it’s an experience of grace through service… or making it through an especially difficult time. Transformation marks our lives in a particular way. The word implies a new focus coming to our lives. It implies being more in tune with ourselves and with God. Being transformed means coming to a turning point in our lives. And understanding that, in many ways, we can never go back to the way it was. We are different. We are changed. We are transformed.
That’s what the trio of disciples and Jesus must have experienced on the mountain. Up on the mountain to have some alone time… some recharging time… Jesus is suddenly and inexplicably joined by two ancient figures of faith. Moses appears – Jewish representative of the Law – and Elijah with him – prophet par excellance – representative of the prophecies of all of God’s creation. And they spoke with him, and talked on what Jesus, and by association, his followers would encounter in the time that remained. They talked of betrayal, suffering, and death. They spoke of glory and power and the might and wisdom of God.
And the disciples were so effected by the experience that they did what any of us would have done. They offered to memorialize the occasion with a monument, so that others would be able to know of what had occurred, and so that they would be able to return often to remember the full impact of what was happening to them. A very Jewish response to a very holy experience. Wherever God makes God’s presence known to humankind, at least a pile of rocks is put together so that people would know – “God Was Here!”
But that’s not what God intends for our lives. God doesn't want us to freeze the mystery in our lives nor even to sit still and ponder it forever. Instead, God calls us to enter into the mystery and use it as our fuel for living. That's really the only effective way we can deal with mystery. And how do we do that? "Listen to him," says El Shaddai. "This is my son, the beloved, the chosen. Listen to him." At the center of the mystery are not more words. At the center of the mystery are not enlightenment or understanding. At the center of the mystery is a person. Jesus. "Listen to him."
In the church, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday just before Ash Wednesday. The prayers of the early church give us some indication of why this is appropriate. When we experience the awesomeness of God, we are given strength to bear our cross and become more like Jesus. The Lenten season gives us a path to renewed discipleship – walking the way of the cross and rediscovering what it means to resist evil in whatever forms it presents. During Lent, we can take on opportunities to give up things which draw us away from God and take on things which bring us closer to Him. These can make our Easter that much more lovely, that much more holy, that much more miraculous.
In the ancient Church, there were five big celebrations that commemorated the life of Christ: Christmas & Epiphany (or Three Kings Day), Baptism of the Lord, the Transfiguration, Holy Week/Easter and Ascension Day. It is remarkable that we celebrate all within a four to five-month period, and the rest of the year is just about figuring out what to do with what we know about who Jesus is and how he wants us to live.
Transfiguration Day is sort of the middle of the journey, and in the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), this event serves as a bridge between Jesus’ public ministry and his passion. Our Epiphany season has been short this year so we haven’t seen heard as many stories as usual about Jesus’ ministry in Galilee. But it will be quite evident in our Lenten gospel readings that Jesus has set his face toward Jerusalem and what he knows is to come.[1]
If we take nothing else away from this passage into our preparation for Good Friday and Easter, we should take this. "Listen to him.” We can't stay on the mountain. The shine of our encounter with the holy fades away. According to Paul in this week's epistle lesson, the reason Moses wore a veil is so that the people wouldn't see the glory fading. The "glory" of the moment fades. The reality does not. And the Reality stands in our midst as the living Word. "Listen to him."
This Sunday, some preachers will end the reading here, with Jesus and the disciples leaving the mountain to go about their life and ministry. But the lectionary has given us the option to continue to the next act of ministry, service and healing. It’s is real – it’s down and dirty – it’s going from the sublime to the depths of despair. Whether this man was indeed possessed by a demon, or whether he was demonstrating signs of mental illness, the fear surrounding his behavior and the shadow that it cast on his family and community was real.
The voice from heaven said, “Listen.” It was a commandment – a directive for getting on with the business of faith. And in listening, and leaving the mountain to go down to all that we know will happen, the teaching, the healing, the suffering and the death, they are the only way that we can get to the point of what all this is about… the resurrection. Sunday is a celebration of Easter… a “little” Easter if you think about it. That’s why when we are counting the days backwards from Easter to find Ash Wednesday we don’t count Sundays. Because Sundays are still celebration days. Sundays are still resurrections days, filled with all of the hope and joy and amazement of the first resurrection on the first Easter morning.
But we have to come down from the mountain to get there. We have to go through Lent to experience the full joy of Easter. But in it all, we remember the mountain… we relive it in our minds, we know that it changed us forever, and set us on a new path of faith. Our time in worship, in study, in retreat… all the places where we experience the awesomeness of God – that’s what gives us the fuel and enthusiasm and courage we need to return to the “everyday world” of human need where, often through us, Jesus heals the sick and opposes the forces of evil. We must remember that if worship is a retreat, it is not a retreat from the world but a retreat in order to come back to the world in love, mercy and grace.[2]
I saw this on Facebook this morning before I left for church. This sermon seemed to be the perfect place to share.
Unfundamentalist Christians shared Ehab Taha's photo. 13 hrs
This woman knows what it means to love her neighbor.
I saw the most incredible display of humanity on the sky train. A six foot five man suffering from drug abuse and\or mental health issues was being very aggressive on the bus with erratic movements, cursing, shouting, etc. While everyone was scared, this one seventy year old woman reached out her hand, tightly gripping his hand until he calmed down, sat down silently, with eventual tears in his eyes. I spoke to the woman after this incident and she simply said, "I'm a mother and he needed someone to touch." And she started to cry. Don't fear or judge the stranger on the bus: life does not provide equal welfare for all its residents.
In our lives, the transforming power of God is most real to us in the intense moments of knowing, and is with us in both our mountain-top and valley experiences. And through it all, when we worship and when we serve in his name… through Christ, we are transformed.
And we give thanks. Amen.
Peace, Deb
[2] http://www.davidlose.net/2016/02/transfiguration-c-worship-transfigured/
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