A Divine Encounter (Transfiguration Sunday sermon)

(Scriptures: Exodus 24:12-18, Psalm 99, 2 Peter 1:16-21, Matthew 17:1-9

Today is the first Sunday in March. This year, it is also the last Sunday in Epiphany, the season of the church calendar that celebrates the revelation of Jesus to the world. Later this week will be Ash Wednesday – which will be celebrated at Bridesburg Methodist, as in past years – and next Sunday will be the first Sunday in Lent. On this last Sunday in Epiphany, it is appropriate that the Gospel reading describes the Transfiguration, in which Jesus revealed himself in a special way to three of his disciples, Peter, James and John.

Matthew’s Gospel is thought to have been written to an early Christian community comprised mostly, though not entirely, of Jewish converts to the way of Jesus. Matthew brings out many parallels between the Transfiguration of Jesus and the giving of the law to Moses. Both the giving of the law to Moses and the transfiguration of Jesus occur on mountains, which because of their height were considered especially close to heaven and were therefore thought to be places in which encounters with the Holy were especially likely to occur – similar to what the Irish have called “thin places,” places where the barrier between earth and heaven became almost translucent, and one could almost see from one side to the other. Six days Moses stayed on the mountaintop, enveloped by the glory of God appearing as a cloud, before Moses received the law; six days after revealing to his disciples that he would be killed in Jerusalem, Jesus invited Peter, James, and John to hike with him up the mountain, where Jesus then appeared before them transfigured, appeared to them in a glory that had not previously been apparent. God spoke to Moses out of the cloud of glory; Jesus spoke with Moses – representing the law – and Elijah – representing the prophets – on the mountain of transfiguration. Of course, the disciples are beside themselves with joy and with awe; Peter, supposing that this sort of summit meeting between Jesus, Moses, and Elijah might go on for a while, maybe even overnight, offers to build huts for each of them to live in. And then, as if seeing Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah weren’t enough, the three disciples hear God’s voice booming at them out of a cloud, in words that remind us of the voice heard at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, the beloved, with him I am well-pleased; listen to Him.” Joy becomes terror, and they hit the deck, falling face down on the ground. Then the vision vanishes, and Jesus gently reaches out to touch them on the shoulder, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

What are we to make of this? At first glance, we may think the entire account is beyond our experience. And yet, I think we’ve all had experiences in which we learn something we didn’t know previously about someone long familiar to us – perhaps a parent or a spouse or a lifelong friend - that helps us see that familiar person in a whole new way. For example, perhaps growing up, we asked our dad about some military medals we found tucked away in the back of a drawer, and out came stories dad’s military heroism, long years before we were born, that give us new respect for our dad. Or maybe one night over the dinner table, Mom reminisced about how she’d worked night shift in a factory to support dad through school, and we saw a side of Mom’s character that we hadn’t seen before.

And so one part of the Transfiguration account was that Jesus gave to Peter, James and John, the three disciples to whom Jesus was closest, a special revelation of His character – that, indeed, Jesus was a teacher and a healer, but not only that, that Jesus was the beloved of God, was himself God, in dialogue with Moses and Elijah, the law and the prophets. Throughout the Old Testament, direct encounters with God are under normal circumstances too much for frail human beings to handle; for example, when God gave the law to Moses, the people told Moses, “You speak to us, and we’ll listen, but do not let God speak to us, or we’ll die.” And so normally God’s glory is hidden from us. But for his closest followers, on this one occasion, Jesus pulled back the veil just a bit, gave them just a glimpse of the glory of God that was always with Jesus – glory that was always there - but under normal circumstances was hidden from their sight.

Why did Jesus give this vision to his three closest disciples? Was it just a moment of indulgence, a chance to show off a bit? Or was something deeper going on? Remember the context of the account – six days before the Transfiguration, Jesus had begun to tell his disciples that he was going to Jerusalem, where he would be put to death. And so this special vision was granted to the inner circle of his disciples to prepare them for what was to come – the journey to Jerusalem, opposition from both the Temple religious establishment and the Roman establishment, his arrest and execution on the cross.

Again, this account of the Transfiguration may seem outside our experience, something that is perhaps interesting to read, but disconnected from our lives. And yet, as we prepare for the upcoming season of Lent, when spiritually for 40 days we walk alongside Jesus on his journey to the cross, let us consider the ways in which we encounter God’s presence in our own lives. We may feel God’s presence when we come to church and, as we sing a beloved hymn or lift up the needs of our neighbors in prayer, we may hear God’s still small voice within our hearts, or feel the touch of God’s hand brush against us. During a difficult period in my early teens, the ringing of the bells of my hometown church, as the carillon rang out hymns at noon, 3pm and 6 pm every day, the sound of the bells played familiar hymns as I walked home from school and I remembered the words of the hymn, “help of the helpless, O abide with me....” at a time when I was feeling very helpless indeed, to me was like God’s voice, telling me that God had not forgotten me, that God was going to carry me through….and so when I preached at Emanuel for the first time back in November 2007, as nervous and awkward as I was, tripping over steps and stumbling over words, as church bell was rung before service, you can imagine that the sound of the bell brought back reassuring memories to me from years past – God is here, too. We may feel God’s presence as we read a passage of Scripture and something jumps out at us that we hadn’t seen before. We may feel God’s presence as we read a prayer or a Psalm or sing a hymn that was a favorite of our mother or father. We may feel God’s presence in a brilliant sunrise or sunset, or, in the words of the old hymn, “in the rustling grass I hear him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.” We may encounter God’s presence, that of God, in each other and in our neighbors, if we have eyes to see. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis wrote,

“There are no ordinary people. You have never met a mere mortal… It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.”

We also experience God’s presence in the sacraments. Through the waters of baptism, God claims us for God’s own, as we or our parents on our behalf promise to walk in God’s ways, and the church promises to support that lifelong walk with God. And in a few moments, we’ll have the privilege to encounter the presence of Christ in the elements of Communion, as we remember the body of Christ, broken for us, and the blood of Christ, poured out for our salvation. May God’s presence strengthen us for the 40 days of Lent, and may God’s presence be with us and go with us wherever our lives may take us. Amen.
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Please join us for worship Sundays at 10 a.m. at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore St off Thompson in Philadelphia's Bridesburg section. www.emanuelphila.org

Lent Begins

Dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ –

“Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished. The tempter came and said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.’ But he answered, ‘It is written, “One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”’’ Matthew 4:1-4

With the coming of the month of March, our liturgical calendar transitions from Epiphany to Lent. Epiphany was a season of proclamation and revelation, as Jesus was revealed to the Gentiles, was baptized, and began his teaching and healing ministry. Lent, by contrast, is a time of introspection, self-examination, and repentance. In a sense, in Epiphany we journey beyond ourselves outward in faith to share Christ with our neighbors. Lent, by contrast, is about the journey inward, as we examine our lives in the light of the cross of Christ.

During this season of Lent, I would encourage each of us to re-connect more deeply with our faith in Jesus. This year’s United Church of Christ’s Lenten devotional booklet, called “The Jesus Diaries”, offers thought-provoking mediations on the question “Who is Jesus to me?” from a variety of writers. See the article later in this newsletter for more information. In addition, as in past years, the Bridesburg Council of Churches will offer a series of Wednesday night Lenten services, beginning with Ash Wednesday on March 9 at Bridesburg Methodist. The services will rotate among the Bridesburg churches according to the schedule later in this newsletter; Emanuel Church will host services on Wednesdays, March 30 and April 13.

I’d also encourage us to be alert for signs of God’s presence in our every day lives. The Gospel for March 6 (Transfiguration Sunday), tells of a time when Jesus invited Peter, James and John for what started out as a mountain hike, but ended up as an encounter with the divine, as Jesus was revealed to them in a new way. (The Scripture reference is Matthew 17:1-9.) Our experience may not look like that experience, but if we are alert, we may find that God is present in our daily encounters with family, friends, coworkers, or in the ordinary events of the day. To quote Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

“Earth's crammed with heaven, And every common bush afire with God; But only those who see, take off their shoes - The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.”

During this season of Lent, may we be alert to those times when we, too, stand on holy ground.
See you in church!
Pastor Dave

Bridesburg Council of Churches Lenten Schedule
(All Wednesday evening services at 7 p.m.,; most services are preceded by soup and/or refreshments)
March 9 (Ash Wednesday) Bridesburg Methodist
March 16 Bridesburg Baptist
March 23 Bethesda Methodist
March 30 Emanuel United Church of Christ
April 6 Bridesburg Presbyterian
April 13 Emanuel United Church of Christ
April 22, 1-2 pm Good Friday Service, Bridesburg Presbyterian
April 23 9:30 a.m. Easter Egg Hunt Bridesburg Presbyterian Churchyard
April 24, 7 a.m. Easter Sunrise Service Bridesburg Baptist

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.

Transfigured

M Night Shymalan was acclaimed for his 1999 movie “The Sixth Sense.” You may remember the plot: a little boy who claimed, “I see dead people” is seeing a therapist. The therapist, played by Bruce Willis, listens to the boy tell of seeing the spirits of deceased people who do not know they’re dead. Meanwhile the psychiatrist is struggling with his own sense of estrangement from his wife, who does not speak to him and turns away from him when he’s in the room with her. The twist in the plot is the therapist ultimately discovers, to his dismay, that he himself is one of the dead people that the boy is seeing, and that his wife’s apparent silence and distance are expressions of her grief at his demise. This change in perspective allows the viewer to see everything that has gone before in a new way. The viewer who thought he or she was watching events unfold according to one pattern, found themselves at the end of the movie remembering these same events from a very different perspective.

In Sunday’s Gospel (Mark 9:2-9) Peter, James and John find themselves in a plot line that could come from one of Shymalan’s movies. You could say that it even involves the disciples seeing dead people. Peter had just declared his insight that Jesus was the Messiah – but then Jesus had disappointed Peter and the others by foretelling his suffering and death, that Jesus would be a very different Messiah than they expected. We’re told that six days later, Jesus led Peter, James and John up to a high mountain, away from the other disciples. Then Jesus was transfigured before them – “his clothes became dazzling white, whiter than any bleach could make them.” On either side of Jesus were Moses and Elijah, who spoke to Jesus.

What are we to make of all this? It’s certainly interesting to read about long-ago mountaintop experience, but what does that have to do with us?

I suspect many of us, maybe all of us, have had what could be called mountaintop experiences, times when, even if only for a few minutes or even a few seconds, we were seemingly lifted up out of our normal routine and given a moment or two of transcendence – moments when we could see beyond the normal daily humdrum and business to feel a sense of the big picture, a sense of connection with everything around us, a sense of knowing and being known, perhaps a sense of the eternal significance of the ordinary acts of love and caring that are part of our daily routine. Celtic Christians had a phrase – “thin places” – for their experiences of finding the veil separating earth and heaven seemingly thinner than usual, so that they could almost glimpse beyond time into eternity. These brief mountaintop experiences can provide perspective and renewed passion to help us slog through the muck and mire of our daily lives.

Our time in worship can sometimes be a mountaintop experience. Occasionally God breaks through the routine of familiar hymns and Scriptures to touch us directly. The words of a hymn go right to our souls, and we well up with tears of gratitude. Notes from organ accompaniment or other sacred music may seemingly reach right in and touch and heal our broken hearts. A Scripture strikes us as if God had written those very words just for us and just for the circumstances we’re going through. Perhaps a sermon illustration helps us see a nagging longtime frustration in a new light.

We can carry with us the memory of those mountaintop moments, those times when God seemed especially close. They can give us the perspective of eternity – the perspective that we’ve never had an ordinary, meaningless day in our lives, that no such thing as an ordinary day exists, that God is in us and in our neighbor, that God can use our most seemingly throwaway conversations and meaningless acts to bring about salvation, to usher in the Kingdom of God. As Christian writer C. S. Lewis put it,

“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations-these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit-immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. . . . Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.”

May God transfigure our perspective on our neighbors, on our lives, and on the many gifts that God bestows on each of us – that every waking moment contains opportunities for service to God, that every encounter with another human being contains the potential for a life-changing encounter.