Transfiguration
of Our Lord – Year A February
23, 2020
Matthew 17:1-9 Panzer
Liturgical Chapel
Can’t
Stay on the Mountaintop Forever
There are two kinds of time. There is Chronos – time
that moves sequentially – seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years
at a time. Steady – predictable – detectable – measurable. It’s the same for
everyone who owns a watch or watches the sun. Chronos time drags us along in its
wake, carrying us to a new moment, as long as we’re alive.
But there is another way to experience time. It’s Kairos
time. Translated from Greek, it means “a right, critical, or opportune time
for action.” In the theological terms, we talk about Kairos time as "the
appointed time in the purpose of God," the time when God acts, or as I
think about it, “Spirit time.” These are moments that last for a particular
amount of chronological or sequential time, but which occupy a lot more real
estate in our hearts, our minds and our lives.
Think about it this way: Do you remember what you were
doing at 11am yesterday? How weeks or months ago? In a year, we live 525,600
minutes, but we can’t remember what we were doing for 90 % of them. If we
could, I’d remember where I put my debit card the last time I used it at the
Penny Markt.
On the other hand, I’ll bet you remember the day you
met your best friend or significant other… that you can look at a photo or
video of a significant event and feel
the experience embrace you, flooding you with all the emotions of the day. These
moments of transformation mark us, change us, and make us who we are.
The gospels are filled with snapshots of Jesus’
ministry – the important things that people remembered and talked about until
someone finally wrote them down. At this point in Jesus’ ministry, they crowds
have been growing, following Jesus wherever he and the disciples went.
Eventually, Jesus stole away to rest and recoop. On a high place, along with
Peter, James and John, Jesus is suddenly joined by two ancient figures of
faith. Moses appears – representing the Law – and Elijah with him –
representative of the prophecies of all of God’s creation.
And not only that, but Jesus was transfigured – his
face was transformed as if he was being lit up by the sun – shining from the
inside out. Talk about being filled with the Spirit! It was amazing, and
frightening, and life-changing for all.
The disciples were so affected 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. It was a very Jewish response to a very holy experience. Wherever God
appears to humankind, we are inclined to say, “Let’s pile a bunch of rocks
together so that people would know – ‘God Was Here!’”
But Jesus won’t allow that to happen. This experience
– this transformation or transfiguration – wasn’t designed for that purpose.
Seeing Jesus’ glowing face, and being in the presence of the pillars of the
Jewish faith wasn’t meant to illicit a passive response. It was instead
designed to inspire the disciples to be inspired and invigorated to continue
their work. And if true for them, it is also true for us.
I hope that in your faith journey, you have had a
miraculous, mysterious encounter with God. And while you might feel it
necessary to memorialize that experience in some way, I hope you’ll remember
that God doesn't want us to freeze frame the mystery in our lives, nor sit
still and ponder it forever. Instead, God calls us to enter into the mystery of
God and use it as our fuel for living. That's really the only faithful way to 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 just these three words. Our faith journeys are
not about theological enlightenment or perfect understanding. At the center of
the mystery is a person. It’s about 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 or to take on things which bring us closer to Him. These
can make our Easter much more lovely, much more holy, much more
miraculous.
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. But the impact of it does not, and stands in our midst as the
living Word. "Listen to him."
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. Every
Sunday is a celebration of Easter… a “little” Easter if you will. That’s why
when we are counting the days backwards from Easter to find Ash Wednesday we
don’t count Sundays. Because Sundays are celebration days, resurrections days,
filled with all of the hope and joy and amazement of the first resurrection on
the first Easter morning.
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, cares for those in
need, 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 refueling station that
readies us to serve the world in love, mercy and grace.
Jesus knew what was in store for him. He knew that his
time on earth was limited, and that despite his teaching and example, for a
moment, evil would have its way. But he came down off the mountain anyway. He
came down with his disciples and he did the hard thing that needed to be done.
His ministry wasn’t over. His journey among the people taught lasting lessons. He
didn’t just teach the “whys” – he taught the “hows” – and sends us out to serve
the word, bringing a message of healing, wholeness and belonging to everyone
who had need… even us.
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| Pink circle is the Church of the Holy Sepulcher |
Over Thanksgiving, Shawn and I went to Israel with his
dad and our friends, Chris and Charles. On our second day in Jerusalem, our
guide took us to the Mount of Olives and told us, “Today we are walking in Jesus’
footsteps, all the way to over there.” In the distance, past the golden Dome of
the Rock, he pointed to the dome of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the large
church designating the location of Jesus’ burial place. It looked really far away,
and as I looked at the deep valley we would have to descend into, and then
climb out of to make our way through the streets of Jerusalem, I looked at
Shawn and said, “I’m not sure I can make it that far.” But I did. And it was a
holy moment.
Jesus leads the disciples down from the mountain with
these words, “Rise and have no fear.” That is often the most difficult part of
our journeys. Peter, James and John were the cream of the disciple crop, but
each of them faltered all along the way – questioning Jesus’ actions, denying
their friendship with him, abandoning him at his time of greatest despair. But
Jesus did not abandon them. And he does not abandon us.
Transfiguration: that is the challenge of this last
Sunday after Epiphany… and first Sunday before Lent. In our lives, the
transforming power of God is most real to us in the intense moments of knowing,
and in both our mountain-top and valley experiences. Live it right here, right
now, with and in our dazzling, transfigured Savior. In the words of the Father:
Listen to him. Follow him to glory. God loves you no less than Moses… no less
than Elijah. Jesus calls us as he called Peter, James, and John. Loving him, praising him, thanking him – this
is the purpose of our days.
Some of the best faith songs come from non-faith
sources. “Seasons
of Love”, from the Broadway musical RENT, composed by Jonathan
Larson, captures the essence of what it means to live every minute – Chronos
and Kairos – the way God intended.
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes -
how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in
cups of coffee.
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600
minutes - how do you
measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in
love. Seasons of love.
SOLOIST 1
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes -
how can you measure
the life of a woman or man?
SOLOIST 2
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In
bridges he burned, or
the way that she died.
COMPANY
It’s time now to sing out, tho’ the story never ends. Let's
celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember the love! Remember
the love! Remember the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love.
When we worship and serve in his name … when we love
others as he loved us, through Christ, we are transformed.And we give thanks. Amen.
