Holy Encounters1
02-03-08
A brilliant magician was performing on an ocean liner, but every time he did a trick, the Captain's parrot would yell, "It's a trick. He's a phony. That's not magic." Then one evening during a storm, the ship sank while the magician was performing. The parrot and the magician ended up in the same lifeboat. For several days they just glared at each other, neither saying a word to the other. Finally the parrot said, "OK, I give up. What did you do with the ship?"
The parrot couldn't explain that last trick! It was too much to comprehend, even for a smart parrot. Sometimes events are too much for even the human brain to comprehend. In today’s supernatural story of transfiguration, Peter cannot fully grasp what is happening. Seriously, I don’t know how I would react either if Jesus was transfigured in front of me like the special effects of a modern day movie. I’m not sure if I would comprehend what the moment meant if, while I’m blinded by the light of Jesus face and robes, two other heroes of faith show up as part of the festivities. In light of events, I may have acted a bit like Peter, needing a little more time to comprehend the glory in front of me. Peter said to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." Then again, I would probably still be up on the mountain, trying to comprehend it all. Peter was frightened and he just said the first thing that came to into his head. He simply could not comprehend what was happening.
God’s presence can be hard to comprehend sometimes. In the Celtic tradition, there is a concept that at certain times in our lives or in certain places we find ourselves in thin places. Thin places are those places, or moments in life in which the veil between this world and the next seems so incredibly thin that one isn’t sure if they have crossed over into another world, a powerful place, like the full Kingdom of God. We have a phrase for these kinds of experiences, the "Mountain-top experience." I don’t know about you, but I envy Moses and Peter and James and John. I envy Joseph and Mary and Abraham and Sarah and Paul and all those biblical folk who see visions and dream dreams and cross over into the unmistakable presence of God. I never quite know what to do with this passage. Every year we hear this story, and every year I’m trying to relate it to everyday life. Yet, I’m guessing some of you, like me, have not had the privilege of being so lucky as to experience a divine whirlwind complete with God’s mighty voice, a blinding light that brings us to our knees, or for that matter a burning bush commanding us to change our lives. But I’m also betting that some of us have had an experience or experiences in our lives when, without a doubt, we have had clear vision and communication with God; when we have had a euphoric experience, stepped into a thin place, had a "mountain-top experience."
I think it is from those experiences that we can relate to this morning’s story from Matthew. It is reading Matthew this year that I have come to a new understanding of this transfiguration story. So I invite us to take a closer look, and we will see that the power of this story isn’t necessarily in the vision. This story is a pivotal story in the gospels, it marks the midway point through Jesus’ earthly ministry. We are about halfway through birth and death, in-between baptism and resurrection. The disciples and early gospel readers are still trying to figure out what Jesus is all about. What makes him so special? We have seen him as baby, rabbi, preacher, and as a moral example. And then suddenly on top of a mountain-top, this very dusty, tired, human Jesus becomes a very non-earthly Jesus - robe glowing and face shining. He becomes a very divine Jesus. There is no doubt that the barrier between this world and the next is crossed for Peter, James, and John.
The detail I find most interesting about Matthew’s version of the story is that the disciples may not have fully comprehended the moment when Jesus and Moses and Elijah stood side by side, but they are not truly overwhelmed with fear until they hear the Voice of God repeating once again the words of baptism. "This is my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well pleased; listen to him." It was the Voice and not the vision that knocked the disciples to the ground and made them tremble in awe and fear. It was the Voice of God that got to the heart of the matter. It was the Voice, not the vision that was understood. We have all heard voices.
What are the voices, divine and otherwise, that speak to your soul, shape your conscience, live in your memories? What are the voices that have challenged and nurtured you to become you at your most authentic self; the voices that you hear even in fear, inadequacy, doubt, and apathy? What are the voices that have given you focus and given you courage for the tasks and challenges of your daily life? I remember the voice of my father, his humor, his preaching, his integrity that has and continues to shape me and my approach to ministry. I hear the voice of my mother, reminding me that everyone of us are connected in the web of life and my consumer and food and general choices not only effect me they effect others in my community and world. She continues to challenge me to be aware of social justice issues. I hear the voice of my campus minister, who was the first one to suggest that maybe I was feeling a call to ministry and that I should find a clergywoman to talk about what it was like to be a woman in ministry. I hear my husband’s voice teaching me how to pay attention to the details of life: the shapes and physics of the life around me, the small seemingly meaningless things that reveal the holy everyday. I hear the voices of the dynamic men and women of this congregation that are excited about life and struggling with life. The men and women who have encourage me to be secure in what I do, and the men and women who suggest that I don’t have to invent the wheel in everything. I hear the voices of men and women who confirm for me that I’m exactly where I need to be in my life and in theirs.
It has been the voices, not the visions that have helped me open my life God. What voices speak to your soul? It is all the more amazing to see a powerful transfiguration, and yet this story is about internal transformation. "The Voice" in today's story reassures and empowers Jesus just before he turns his face toward Jerusalem, toward the cruelty of the cross. It reassures and empowers the disciples who have just been told to deny themselves and pick up their crosses. And it reassures and empowers us as we embrace our own Christian journey, a journey which demands that we regularly wrestle, in the wilderness of temptation, in the wilderness of repentance, in the wilderness of suffering, in the wilderness of commitment."2
The Voice of God reminds us to remember our baptism, to remember that we are uniquely created, named and blessed, and that we are loved. The Voice of God also tells us that we are created for good in this world and these reminders are all we really need to remember in order to get through whatever this life throws our way. God tells us that we will never be alone. And God speaks to us through the voices of our loved ones and through strangers. God speaks to us through our children and grandchildren, and through our elders. God speaks to us through our students and our teachers. And the Voice of God will always remind us that we are loved and created for good things in this world.
Now the voice, like the vision, can be hard to comprehend sometime. Often the Voice of God makes more sense in hindsight than in the moment. If we stay where we are to memorialize and comprehend what we have heard we will miss the important work in the valleys, in the everyday.
"My friends, in the long run, it is not the dazzling moments of transfiguration that connect us to God. It is the slow plodding through the daily trenches of faithfulness that truly connect us to God. It is not he dazzling moments of transfiguration, but our openness not only to hear God’s voice, but to let God speak through us. In the long run, it is not the dazzling transformative, movie-magic moments that sustain our faith, it is how we experience God in our everyday lives, and then how we use such moments to share our lives and the power of God with others. Our gospel story today ends with a very human Jesus - the glow completely gone. Once more he stands alone, his feet still dusty, his eyes still tired. Gently he touches the disciples and encourages them to rise up. The Greek word here is "resurrection. "Yes, Jesus gently resurrects the disciples this side of the grave, so that they can travel with him down into the valley - down into the reality of the way things really are. Jesus resurrects us this side of the grave, so that together with God's steady Voice quietly within us, we can turn our faces toward Jerusalem. So that together we can do what needs to be done. If voices and visions come your way, treasure them and savor them for all the joy they can bring you. And remember, the true light of God's presence is in the trust of your heart and in the daily faithfulness of your lives. May it be so for you and for me."3 Thanks be to God, Amen.
Blessings,
Melissa
1 Thank you to the words of the sermon Visions and Voices, by Susan R. Andrews, found in the book, Sermons For Sundays: In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany: The Offense Of Grace, Susan R. Andrews, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 2004.
2 ibid
3 ibid