Love Made Visible

(Note – Services at Emanuel United Church of Christ were canceled due to the condition of the roads around Emanuel Church and the lack of cleared parking spots, so I’m “preaching” by way of the blog this week.)

“Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’” Luke 9:35

This Sunday, February 14, Christians may be celebrating two different events. Per the liturgical calendar, it is Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday before Lent, when Peter, James, and John were granted a glimpse of Jesus in his glory, a glimpse of Him as he truly was. At the same time, per our desk calendar, Sunday is Valentine’s Day, when those blessed with a relationship are encouraged to say “I love you” to their beloved by way of cards, flowers, candy, perhaps a romantic dinner. It may seem a bit odd to include both the Transfiguration and Valentine’s Day in the same sermon, but the two occasions have this in common, that love – romantic love, God’s love for humanity – is lifted up, becoming visible in a way not experienced on a day-to-day basis.

Per today’s Gospel account in Luke 9:28-43, Jesus took Peter, James and John to a mountain to pray. While we don’t know what time of day it was, the Gospel says that the three disciples were “weighed down in sleep,” so some scholars think that this may have happened at night or very early morning. Luke tells us that suddenly, while Jesus was praying (and while the disciples struggled to stay awake), the appearance of Jesus’ face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white (the parallel account in Mark 9 says, “such as no one on earth could bleach them”). Suddenly Moses and Elijah are seen “in glory” talking to Jesus about his impending suffering and death in Jerusalem. Luke tells us that the three disciples saw all this. Peter, “not knowing what he said,” tells Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud came a voice, “This is my Son, my Beloved; listen to Him.” Then the vision ended, and the three were alone with Jesus once again.

Celtic or Irish Christians speak of “thin places” in which the separation between heaven and earth is thin, almost translucent, when God seems especially close. The Transfiguration could be said to be one such “thin place”. Peter, James, and John had lived with Jesus, traveled with him, eaten with him, saw him every day. Yet at the Transfiguration, they saw Jesus in a new way. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that they got a glimpse of Jesus as he really was. Moses and Elijah represent the law and the prophets, the sacred Scriptural tradition of God’s people as expressed in what Christians call the Old Testament, testifying to the saving work that Jesus would accomplish by His death and resurrection. Peter wants to capture the moment, make it last, by offering to build three huts or booths so that Moses and Elijah can hang around a while with Jesus. But, as is often the case, the glimpse of Jesus’ divine glory is fleeting. They hear a voice telling them to listen to Jesus, the beloved of God, and then they are alone with Jesus once again. They will soon travel back down the mountain, where Jesus will be prevailed upon to heal a child possessed by a demon which the other disciples were unable to cast out. The vision of glory is fleeting, and Jesus and the three disciples find themselves back in their day-to-day lives.

The Transfiguration may seem like a one-time event that, while dazzling, happened a long time ago, and may seem to have little bearing on our day-to-day lives. And yet, I think many of us catch glimpses of the divine that, while they’re not as overpowering as the Transfiguration, give us new perspective and new strength to continue on with our daily lives. These encounters with the divine may come in Sunday worship, or in encounters with nature’s beauty. They may also come from time to time in our relationships with a spouse or partner or close friend. Our culture has made Valentine’s Day almost hopelessly sentimental and even commercial – it’s big business for the greeting card companies and florists and makers of chocolates – and yet there is still something worthwhile about pulling back from our day-to-day lives to value and give thanks for those we love and who love us. Daily living with one we love may lead us to take our beloved for granted. There is value in taking moments – and not only on Valentine’s Day – to remember the circumstances that brought the relationship together, to give thanks for the beloved, to see and to value that person in a way that can become lost in the grind of daily life, perhaps – as the voice told the disciples – to listen – not just nod our head and smile, but really listen – to her or to him.

Peter wanted to capture the moment of the Transfiguration, and make it last, but he and James and John soon enough found themselves making their way down the mountain, back to their daily ministry with Jesus. Later this week, we will enter the season of Lent, beginning with Ash Wednesday, when we remember that we are dust, and to dust we will return. Luke tells us that the three disciples did not speak of the Transfiguration with the other disciples. But the vision undoubtedly gave them perspective and strength that carried them through the days ahead. As we enter Lent, may we remember and give thanks for the significant relationships in our lives, and for those times in which God has been especially present with us. Most of all, may Lent be a season in which we listen – really listen, to the voice of Jesus, the beloved of God, to the voice of God’s spirit in our lives. Amen.