Transfigured and Transformed! -- A Sermon

Matthew 17:1-9

For the past several weeks we’ve been with Jesus on a mountain being instructed in the ways of God’s realm. This morning we’re taking a brief detour to another mountain, where Jesus’ identity is more fully revealed to us. In this scene from Matthew’s gospel we watch as Jesus is transfigured and transformed, so that we might see more fully the presence of God in him. As we attend to this story, it becomes clear that understanding the gospels requires a bit of an imagination. Without imagination you might end up doing what Jefferson did and start cutting out the parts of the gospel that don’t seem to make sense to the rational mind. Now, I’m a rather analytical, rationalist type, and so this takes some doing on my part. Since I’m not much into poetry (though I do love music) and I don’t read a lot of novels (though I do like movies), I struggle with poet W.H. Auden’s suggestion that Christians need to be poets. Although I struggle with this word of wisdom, I believe he’s right – If we’re going to understand and appreciate the story of the Transfiguration, we must trust our imaginations.

1. THE REVEALING OF AN IDENTITY

The story of the Transfiguration takes us to one of those “thin places” where the membrane separating heaven and earth becomes transparent and we can see the things of God more fully and clearly. In this story, we see Jesus unveiled. His full identity shines through, even if for only a moment.

If we go back a chapter, we’ll find the Disciples trying to answer the question of Jesus’ identity. Jesus asks them “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers the question with the “Confession” that we make when we join with this assembly and are baptized into Christ: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” Peter makes this “Good Confession,” but we quickly learn that he doesn’t quite understand the meaning of his words.

Now, six days later, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up on a mountain where the question of identity is again raised, and to understand the meaning of this event we’ll need to look at reality a bit differently so that we can comprehend the glory and majesty of God who is present to us in Jesus. Writer Madeleine L'Engle, offers this poetic vision of the Transfiguration:

Suddenly they saw him the way he was,

the way he really was all the time,

although they had never seen it before,

the glory which blinds the everyday eye

and so becomes invisible. This is how

he was, radiant, brilliant, carrying joy

like a flaming sun in his hands.

This is the way he was -- is -- from the beginning,

and we cannot bear it. So he manned himself,

came manifest to us; and there on the mountain

they saw him, really saw him, saw his light.

We all know that if we really see him we die.

But isn't that what is required of us?

Then Perhaps, we will see each other, too.

[Madeleine L'Engle, Glimpses of Grace, (San Francisco: Harper-Collins, 1996), 64.

2. A TRIP TO ANOTHER MOUNTAIN

As we try to imagine the scene on the Mount of Transfiguration, it might be helpful to view a parallel scene in the Exodus story. As I read this passage consider the similarities and the differences in these two encounters with God.

The Lord said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction.” So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up into the mountain of God. To the elders he had said, “Wait here for us, until we come to you again; for Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them.” Then Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. The glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day he called to Moses out of the cloud. Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights. (Ex. 24:12-18 NRSV).

Later on in the Exodus story we learn that after Moses returned from the mountain with the Tablets of the Law, his face was so radiant from being in God’s presence that the Israelites were afraid to look at him, and so he veiled himself so that he could enter the community (Ex. 34: 29-35).

As I read these two stories together, what seems apparent is that Moses’ radiance is a reflection of encountering God’s presence in the cloud, but Jesus’ radiance comes before the appearance of the heavenly Cloud of Presence. Therefore, it’s not so much a reflection as an unveiling. Therefore, in that moment the Disciples catch a glimpse of Jesus’ full identity. Only then, do Moses and Elijah appear to Jesus, and in their appearance we envision representatives of the Law and the Prophets, who bear witness to Jesus’ mission.

3. PETER'S RESPONSE

At first Peter doesn’t know what to make of all of this. He reacts like many of us do when we’re around famous people or people we admire. He sort of makes a fool of himself. In trying to make sense of Peter’s response, an occasion comes to mind. While waiting with a family at a surgical waiting room in Santa Barbara, we discovered that actor John Cleese – of Monty Python and James Bond fame – was also present in the waiting room. You see, his wife was in surgery, and while our group recognized him, we didn’t bother him, but as always happens, somebody broke the rules. One woman just couldn’t help herself, and so she asked him for an autograph, which he of course refused. Our group lent a nod of understanding and support to his action, but I can understand how easy it is to get caught up in the moment when you’re around someone famous.

Peter was a bit like that autograph seeker when he realized that Moses and Elijah were present, and he just couldn’t contain himself. Overwhelmed, he blurts out:

"Lord this is wonderful! If you want me to, I'll make three shrines, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. (Matt. 17:4 NLT).

Although it’s not really clear what Peter intended by this offer, because the Greek word can be translated as both tent and shrine, it seems as if Peter had a shrine in mind. Moses and Elijah surely were worthy of a shrine, but now it seemed as if Jesus might be worthy of one as well.

But there is another side to this story. Thomas Keating, a Cistercian monk and writer, suggests that maybe Peter wanted to prolong the experience, and so he offered to build tents for the three men, whom he now recognizes as being transcendent beings.

If we perceive the divine presence in some facsimile of this clarity, we are fascinated, absorbed, and delighted. Peter's response was to want to stay there forever. The more profound the experience of union, the more one cannot help but wish to prolong it. [Thomas Keating, Reawakenings, (NY: Crossroads, 1992), 117.]

Like anyone who has experienced something as profound as an encounter with God, Peter lost all interest in the world below, and wanted to stay put. This is, of course, often true of our mountain top experiences. It’s hard to come down from the mountain. Moses experienced it, so did Peter.

4. THE VOICE OF GOD

Although Peter got caught up in the transformation of Jesus’ appearance and then Jesus’ conversation with Moses and Elijah, what happened next transcended even these two earlier events. Even as Peter made his offer to Jesus, a cloud descends on the mountain, and a voice from the cloud speaks words that readers of the Gospel first heard at the baptism of Jesus:

This is my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with him. Listen to him (vs. 5 NLT).

As this voice echoes from the skies, Peter and his companions discover that Moses and Elijah have disappeared, leaving Jesus alone with them. This voice demanded that they listen to Jesus, because he is the one who will speak for God in this new age. He is the new law giver and the new prophet. As we ponder this scene, Thomas Keating again offers a helpful interpretation:

Listen not just to his words to which they had been listening when they were on the plain, but "listen to him," the divine person who is speaking to you. Listen to the divine presence that is incarnate in this human being. Listen to the infinite Silence out of which the incarnate Word emerges and to which it returns. (p. 118)

Having heard the voice of God, they fall on their faces in fear, but Jesus gently touches them and invites them to get up and not be afraid.

Having encountered the divine presence the three disciples follow Jesus down the mountain. They’ve experienced something too profound for word; something that they really can’t understand until after the resurrection. With that in mind, Jesus tells them not to talk about their experiences until after the resurrection. As Keating puts it: “There would be no point of talking about it because no one on the plain would understand unless they had climbed a similar mountain." (p. 119).

In Matthew’s story of the transfiguration, we receive an invitation to climb the mountain so that we too might be transformed by our encounter with God. In a moment we will gather at the Table, and we as break bread together we will encounter this presence, even as the disciples experienced it on the road to Emmaus – as Luke’s Gospel tells the story of the post-Resurrection unveiling of Jesus (Lk 24:13ff).

As we hear this story, may we let loose our imaginations, those precious gifts that allow us to see beyond what is rational, so that we might join Peter, James, and John, in seeing the fullness of God’s splendor revealed in the person of Jesus. Then we too will be transformed, as Paul puts it, by the renewing of our minds, so that we might discern the will and purpose of God (Rom. 12:2).

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, MI

Transfiguration Sunday

March 6, 2011

On the Mountain with God -- Lectionary Meditation

Exodus 24:12-18


2 Peter 1:16-21


Matthew 17:1-9

On the Mountain with God

I grew up in the shadow of the Cascade Mountains. From the age of 3 to 9 I lived at the foot of one of the great mountains in America, the majestic Mount Shasta, a 14,160 foot double coned volcano that exudes mystery. I never climbed Mount Shasta, but I have climbed a few other shorter Cascade peaks, and so I understand the draw that mountains can have on people. There is something powerful and awe-inspiring about standing at the top of the mountain and looking out across the landscape. You see the handiwork of God very differently from high up in the mountains, standing above tree-line, where nothing is able to take hold except a few of the hardiest plants. The air is thin, cold, and clear. You feel as if you can touch the sky and even reach through the thin membrane separating heaven and earth and touch the things of God.

From my own experience living among the mountains I can understand why people from time immemorial have gone to the mountains to encounter God. In the biblical story, we see people going to the mountain, from Moses to Elijah to Jesus, and there upon the mountains God is encountered, and lives are changed. In this week’s lectionary texts we go to the mountains to meet God. With Moses we go into the presence of God on Mt. Sinai, and with Jesus we go to the mountain where he is transfigured before our eyes and God speaks to him from the cloud of presence.

We begin with Moses who receives a call from God to go to the mountain and receive the tablets of the law, which God has written for their instruction. And so he takes Joshua, and after leaving Aaron and Hur in charge, heads for the mountain. As Moses climbs the mountain, a cloud begins to envelope it, so that the “Glory of the Lord settled upon Mount Sinai.” They wait, presumably on the edge of the cloud for six days. On the seventh day, with the Glory of the Lord sitting on the mountain having the appearance of a devouring fire, God invites Moses to enter the cloud. As I read this description I have in mind the forest fires I remember seeing coming down the side of Mount Shasta as a child. They were far enough away that I didn’t have to worry, but the flames were large enough to get your attention. You can imagine the feeling of the people down below. Moses and Joshua have gone up the mountain, which is now engulfed in flame. Will they ever return? What will happen to us? Yes, I can only imagine. But then, Moses went up into the cloud and ascended the mountain, and there he spent forty days and forty nights. With this the passage ends – though if you continue reading you discover that it is in this forty day period that God reveals to Moses God’s desires for the people of Israel. All the directions for the creation of the Tabernacle and ordination of priests and more are revealed, as Moses is with God on the mountain.

Most assuredly Moses is transformed by this encounter with God, though we later learn that when Moses emerges from the cloud his face shines so much that he must keep himself veiled. Paul suggests that over time the glow faded, but Moses kept the veil so as to cover up the loss of this sign of God’s presence.

2 Peter is one of those interesting texts. It claims to be written by one of Jesus’ closest friends and colleagues, though most scholars believe that it comes from a much later time, perhaps into the 2nd century. In this letter Peter writes that he was an eyewitness of God’s majesty and that of Jesus. We were there, he says, when God spoke: “This is my son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Yes, we were with him on the mountain. So, listen to our testimony. Listen to our interpretation – for “no scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation.” Prophecies come not by human will, but by people moved by the Holy Spirit to speak for God. I think that the author of this letter is pulling something of a power play – I was there when God spoke to Jesus, therefore, listen to my interpretation of Scripture, for Scriptures aren’t the matter of one’s own interpretation. Still, despite this almost unseemly display, we hear in it a word of witness to the encounters the people of God have on the mountain, encounters that can be life changing.

Finally we come to Matthew’s account of the Transfiguration. Note that Jesus goes up the mountain after six days – is this reflective of Moses’ ascent to Mount Sinai? Of course, we need to go back a chapter to see that according to Matthew, it was six days earlier that Peter made the Good Confession, declaring that Jesus is the Christ/Messiah and Son of God (Mt. 16:16). Even as Moses took Joshua with him, Jesus took three of his closest associates – Peter, James, and John – with him up the mountain. There he was “transfigured” or transformed before their eyes so that his face shown like the sun and his clothes became a dazzling white. There is similarity to Moses’ encounter, but here, the transformation seems to be less a reflection of the encounter, but it emerges from within. It is, one could say, an unveiling of the glory of the Lord that is already present in Jesus. Then and only then do Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, appear and are seen talking with Jesus. It has been suggested that Moses and Elijah are seen here as transcendent beings, people who are caught up into heaven without dying.

Peter sees all this and being something of an impulsive sort (the reason we like him so much) decides he has to do something. So, he offers to set up tents for the three conversation partners – or perhaps these are designed to be shrines. He recognizes that something powerful is happening and that Jesus must be someone of transcendent importance if he is standing in the presence of Moses and Elijah.

It is at this moment that a cloud overshadows them – as on the Mountain of Sinai – and from the cloud comes a voice that states: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Words that we the reader have encountered earlier in Matthew at the baptism of Jesus, but now they are repeated to fuller effect. At this the three disciples fall on their faces in fear. Jesus sees them, touches them (I find this to be a most poignant statement) and picks them up and tells them not to be afraid. Jesus does that a lot – telling his followers not to fear. It is at this point that they discover that Jesus is alone. Having had this encounter they head back down the mountain – not with stone tablets, but with a new sense of wonder and awe at the person they are called to accompany. For his part, Jesus tells them not to tell anyone about what happened on the mountain until after the Son of Man had been raised from the dead.

As we reflect on these three texts that depict powerful encounters with God, encounters that are transformative, it is appropriate for us to ask of ourselves – in what way are we transformed by our encounters with the transcendent God? What are our mountain top experiences? From the looks of the rest of Matthew’s narrative, the disciples still don’t understand, even after their mountain top experiences. Are we any different? Does the wonder begin to wear off once we're back into the thick of things?  Do we forget with whom we walk?  May we be thankful for God’s patience!

Adventurous Theology: Transforming Paul (Bruce Epperly)

The Book of Acts is one of the more fascinating parts of the New Testament.  It tells the story of an expanding mission of God, wherein the gospel goes forth into the world.  At first it is a mission to Jews, but quickly expands to embrace other groups, including Samaritans and Gentiles.  It is a mission that is rooted in the Jewish witness, but as the story of Acts suggests, the mission that goes forth in the name of Jesus, modifies the terms of conversion so that circumcision is removed as the marker of entrance into the community.  The key preacher of this new understanding of salvation in the name of Jesus is Paul, whom we meet in Acts 9 as Saul of Tarsus, a zealous protector of orthodoxy, whose visionary encounter with Jesus transforms his life and witness.  Bruce Epperly continues his exploration of the adventurous theology of Acts by focusing on the transformation of Saul into Paul. 

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Adventurous Theology:

Transforming Paul (Acts 9:1-31)

By Bruce Epperly

Our holy adventure in Acts takes on a new dimension with the introduction of Saul of Tarsus. The transformation of Saul into Paul cannot be understood purely as a conversion experience, but as an opening to deeper dimensions of the faith he affirmed. Although the later Paul counts his earlier orthodoxy as worthless, the fact of the matter is that Saul was a faithful Jew, whose persecution of the Way of Jesus was motivated by his belief in the God of Jesus, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It is not that Saul had gone astray; he simply had not strayed far enough into God’s new frontiers of spiritual adventure. His orthodoxy had limited his ability to experience God in new and creative ways. Even after his mystical experience, as a leader of the fledgling church, Paul still affirmed God’s covenant with the children of Israel.

Acts 9 is shrouded in visionary experiences. On his way to persecute Jesus’ followers in Damascus, Saul sees a light and hears the voice of Jesus. He is blinded and then transformed by this theophany, this moment of divine revelation in which Jesus appears to him as the Risen One, God’s beloved revealer of a new age and new way of life. Saul receives a new vocation, and eventually a new name. He receives new sight and what John Biersdorf calls “the healing of purpose.”

Saul’s visionary experience is part of a larger ecology of revelation. Ananias also has a vision in which he receives divine guidance to welcome Saul into the community of faith, despite his previous history. Vision leads to vocation, both for an encounter and for a lifetime.

Acts 9, like the rest of Acts, invites us to a world of wonders in which God is active in each and every moment and each and every life. Yet, the one who is moving through all things addresses each thing – each moment and each person – uniquely and individually. Saul is “chosen” by God for a particular vocation in the early church. God is present in different ways in different situations and with different people. This is not a matter of supernatural intervention, but personal relationship. Healing moments – whether of vocation, body, mind, or spirit – emerge from a lively interplay of call and response, moving through our lives, unconscious mind, personal history, and historical and environmental context. Perhaps, God was gently and persistently moving through Saul’s religious quest to bring him to a moment of transformation. Despite the theophany, Saul still had to respond in order to experience the fullness of revelation and claim his new vocation. Likewise, Ananias also needed to be open to a new way of experiencing God’s presence in his life and in the emerging Christian community. Ananias had to experience God moving within Saul’s life: this was an act of courageous faith – opening to the proclaimer waiting to emerge from within the persecutor!

Acts 9 reminds us that burning bushes and theophanies can be found around every corner. God is constantly giving us guidance and inspiration. When we open to this inspiration, new possibilities emerge. Even when we appear to be going in the wrong direction, God is still working in our lives, inviting us to greater sight and insight in our vocation as God’s beloved children, sharing good news of healing and transformation.

Bruce Epperly is professor of practical theology and director of continuing education at Lancaster Theological Seminary. He is the author of 17 books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living and Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry.

Transformation through Letting Go -- A Lectionary Meditation

Jeremiah 18:1-11

Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33

Transformation through Letting Go

To walk with God requires much more of us than we’re willing to relinquish – that may be control of our destiny or control of our possessions. We say we love God, we may even say that we love God more than anything or anyone else, but when we’re asked for proof, it’s not easy to produce it. As I contemplate the texts for this week’s lectionary texts, I can’t help but think about the Glenn Beck Rally this past Saturday. The controversial radio host wants to portray himself as a prophet calling the people back to righteousness – like Jeremiah for instance – but the message is vacuous because it doesn’t demand anything of anyone. It is simply a call to move back into the past when middle class whites (like me) were in control – as in the 1950s when segregation remained legal and whites controlled everything.

In Jeremiah’s message, God’s vision comes to him through the potter. God can take the spoiled vessel and make something new of it. Thus, if God sees that the nation is doing evil, then God can pull it down and start over. If it is doing that which is right, then God will lift it up – but if God senses a change, God might change God’s mind. The choice is ours – do we want to listen for God’s voice, and do what is right? Or do we want to control our destiny and end up doing that which is evil? God will respond accordingly. As the debate over the Beck rally reminds us – the nature of good and evil is often in the eye of the beholder. Ultimately God alone will judge.

In Paul’s brief letter to Philemon we witness a most remarkable conversation, between the great church planting apostle, now imprisoned, writing to a leader of an otherwise undisclosed church community, commending Philemon for his service and love for the saints of God, and then making a request of him. With Paul is a young man named Onesimus, who was a slave owned by Philemon. It is easy for us to glide across this reality – but from the very beginning there have been slave-owning Christians (though ancient slavery was very different from the race-based slavery of ante-bellum America). Onesimus had run off to Paul, perhaps seeking asylum, and in the course of time, Onesimus has become not only a changed person, but a person beloved by Paul – a child in the faith. Paul wants to keep Onesimus with him, but he wants Philemon to release his slave into Paul’s care – voluntarily and not by coercion.

What is interesting about the letter is that while Paul never comes out and rejects slavery he changes the dynamic. He asks Philemon to receive Onesimus back, not as a slave, but as a beloved brother. The one who once was useless has now become useful – because he is a brother in Christ. Could it be that Paul is encouraging Philemon to look at the world in a different way, one where a brother can’t enslave a brother or sister in Christ? By letting go, both Onesimus and Philemon would be transformed.

We finally come to the gospel lesson – one of the lectionary texts that has long proven to be vexing to the preacher. It is an extremely counter-cultural text, in that it makes an almost impossible demand. If you want to love me, hate your parents and siblings. In Matthew’s gospel it is a more palatable – “love me more than” (Matthew 10:37-39). But here it’s hate versus love. You can’t do both. To be a disciple means letting go of everything – including one’s possessions. That’s why Jesus speaks of cost counting – if you’re not prepared to go all the way and complete the task, then don’t start the journey. Be like the builder of the tower who first checks to see if there are sufficient funds and resources to build the tower, before starting, for who wants to suffer the embarrassment of a half-finished tower (not that there haven’t been plenty of examples of such folly!). And who would go to war, knowing that the odds were so stacked against them that there was no way to win. If the odds are against you, then you had best make peace.

One of the realities that emerges from reading scripture is that one discovers that the gospel isn’t a message of cultural accommodation. The demands are difficult – like the demand to let go of all your possessions and to hate your family if you want to be a disciple. Are we ready, especially we who live in the comforts of the United States -- where even in the midst of great economic troubles, the difficulties we experience are so few in comparison to those experienced by others around the world – ready to truly few the call of God on our lives? In posing this question, I must confess my own reticence, for I love my creaturely comforts and my family life too much to really let go, and yet, I hear Jeremiah’s warning and Paul’s word of hope as I ponder the question. The promise is this – by letting go, we can experience transformation.

Meditation to be found also at [D]mergent.