Showing posts with label Matthew 17:1-9. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matthew 17:1-9. Show all posts

Sunday, February 19, 2023

Glory Is All Around: Feb 19, 2023

 Year A, Last Sunday of Epiphany                                       Matthew 17:1-9                                                        

         It’s the last Sunday before Lent begins, the last Sunday for us to sing as many Alleluias as possible and sing them loudly. This Sunday ends our season of Epiphany, the time we talk about light and revelation. It’s a season that we can easily overlook, like the calm before the dark storm that is Lent.  Lent isn’t really stormy.  It’s just a season that we happen to associate with suffering and darkness.  The first day of Lent is Ash Wednesday.  What do we do on Ash Wednesday? We smear ash on people’s faces and remind them that they are going to die.  It’s truly a wonder that anyone comes to that service. 

            This Gospel reading is an interesting transition from Epiphany to Lent.  It’s a story of light and revelation, but there is a certain foreboding within the story---well really on either side of the story.  Right before Jesus ascended the mountain with three of his disciples, he explained that he would have to suffer and die.  Peter argued with Jesus when he made this revelation.  Peter could not wrap his head around the idea that the messiah—the person who was supposed to save them all—would soon be killed. 

It was after this information was relayed that Jesus brought his friends to the top of the mountain.  I have often wondered about the timing.  Was Jesus hoping to provide some clarity for his disciples about the message he had just given them, or was he just trying to have some quality time with his friends who were probably reeling from this new and disturbing information?  We really don’t know. 

            We often hear people talk about mountain top experiences.  Sometimes it is literally about the experience of climbing to the top of a mountain and witnessing an extraordinary view that takes your breath away.  Sometimes people use that phrase to describe a time of transcendence—a moment where they felt closer to God, a time of faith and assurance.  We can actually use that phrase for a lot of different things.

Mount Tabor
However, Jesus’ disciples would have had some specific associations with mountain tops. The mountain was where heaven and earth met. It was a place that people encountered the divine.  Mountains are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible, most notably in Moses’ interactions with the voice of God.  That is where Moses received the 10 Commandments. Important things happened on mountains in the Jewish faith. All of Jesus’ disciples would have known these stories well and thus known the significance of the mountain.

            Therefore, it’s not surprising that these amazing things would happen at the top of the mountain.  First Jesus was transfigured before them—meaning his face got shiny and his clothes were extra bright. Then two prophets, who were long since dead, appeared.  After that a voice from heaven spoke to the disciples…the disciples.  And here is the crazy thing, of all those miraculous events that happened on that mountaintop, it wasn’t the glowing Jesus or two dead prophets back to life, it was something as simple as a voice.  That is what really got the disciple’s attention.  It wasn’t just any voice.  It was God’s voice. And for once, God was talking directly to the disciples. 

That is what really freaked them out. They were accustomed to things happening to Jesus, and maybe even to the people around them.  They had witnessed their share of miracles. But this was different, because God was talking to them and more importantly he was telling them to do something, to listen to Jesus.  And what had Jesus just told them? He had told them that he had to suffer and die and they too would have to take up their cross if they wanted to be his followers.   It’s not the kind of thing you want to hear from a heavenly voice. It’s the kind of thing you want to tell yourself was just a big misunderstanding and of course Jesus didn’t mean that he was really going to suffer and die.

            When the three disciples heard the voice from heaven, they fell to the earth in fear.   Because the earth was what they knew.  It was firm. Maybe, just maybe if they stayed there for a while they could forget this all happened.  Then Jesus bent over and touched them and he said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  When they looked up, they saw it was just them and Jesus, just the way it should be.  And maybe they thought this was all just a dream and they could forget it.  But no, Jesus made sure to remind them on the way down the mountain, that he would have to suffer and die. This time, no one argued with him. 

            Lent isn’t merely a time of suffering and darkness.  It’s a time when we confront certain truths, maybe truths that we don’t want to confront.  It’s a time to repent from our sins.  No one likes to talk about sin.  But repentance isn’t just a about feeling guilt and shame, it’s a reorientation. It’s an opportunity to change, for the better.  The reason we have the story of the transfiguration right before Lent is to remind us that even in the midst of suffering and repentance, there is also glory and light.  There is a God who desperately wants us to listen to him, but is also willing to get on the ground with us, put his hand on our shoulder and say, “It’s time to get up and stop living in fear.”

            On the way down Jesus told his disciples not to tell anyone about what happened until he was resurrected.  I like to think he told them this because he knew that they would need this reminder of a light that we can find even in the darkest of times.  They didn’t need to use this moment to evangelize and teach.  It was just for them, a place to return in their mind and heart when the world seemed to be ending.  When Jesus was hanging on the cross, they could close their eyes---see the light and feel his hand on their shoulder telling them not to be afraid.

            That’s what many of us need—a reminder to find courage when we are afraid, a reminder that we need not fear the terror of the night—that we can confront those things we would rather avoid and forget.  Lent is a time to face our fears, our failures, and our sins---but to do that with the knowledge that those failures and sins can never defeat us because we have a God who can both glorify the earth and also kneel down next to us when our face in on the ground, brush us off and tell us not to be afraid because glory (God’s glory) is all around us. 

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Get up: February 23, 2020


Year A, Transfiguration                                                                 
Matthew 17:1-9                                                                                  

            Sometimes we get asked if we are planning to adopt another child. It is doubtful, but I rarely say never anymore because things don’t usually happen according to how you expect them to happen, at least they haven’t for me.  But the bottom line for me is--- the adoption process was absolutely terrifying.  No doubt pregnancy and child birth are terrifying as well, but for different reasons. The reason that adoption is scary is that you have the child for 4 months before that child is legally yours.  And that’s after you have the child in your home. Before that, there is even more uncertainty.  It’s why we didn’t prepare a room or even buy a car seat until we were on our way to pick him up from the hospital.  For those first few months, I thought the anxiety and uncertainty would drive me insane.  Of course like all babies, he didn’t sleep much at night. When he finally fell asleep, I would just watch him and cry for fear of losing him.  I remember watching him sleep feeling desperate with the desire to hold on to that moment. 
            So I feel a special connection with Peter in this Gospel story.  I understand his desperation and fear.  I understand how his love for Jesus was tangled up with his fear of losing him.  I imagine that Peter was eager to walk up that mountain with Jesus and the other two disciples.  They had been surrounded by crowds for quite some time.  Finally he would have some time with Jesus, just Jesus.  Right before this story, Jesus had started to explain to his disciples that he would soon be killed.  That news had upset all the disciples, but none more than Peter.  Peter had been so upset that he argued with Jesus. He told Jesus he was wrong.  It’s understandable that Peter would be upset by Jesus’ prediction of his impending death, but apparently Jesus was not pleased that one of his disciples scolded him.  Jesus got so mad he called Peter Satan and told him that he was thinking human thoughts when he should be thinking divinely.
            My guess is that Peter was still feeling the sting of this reprimand and relieved to be one of the disciples Jesus chose to accompany him up the mountain.  He probably felt this would be his opportunity to make up for his earlier error.  Perhaps he was determined to think divinely, just as Jesus had advised. Well, if he wanted divine, he got divine.  When they got to the top of the mountain, Jesus was transfigured.  His face glowed like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white.  Then, if that was not enough, two great leaders of the Jewish faith (who were supposed to be dead by the way) appeared beside him. 
Peter was determined to be helpful and offered to make dwellings for the three of them.  Many have interpreted this as a foolish move on Peter’s part.  Why would two dead people and the Son of God need tents? Isn’t this just Peter once again setting his mind on human things? Or maybe Peter understands more than people give him credit for.  I think Peter realized that this was a divine moment and that he needed to mark it in some way, preserve it—not because he was clinging to something ephemeral, but because he wanted to mark the occasion, carve it into ground of this mountain and into his heart.             
            That’s what we do every Sunday when we have this liturgy.  People who are not familiar with it might consider it arcane or antiquated.  That’s fine if that is what they want to see.  But in my mind, what we are doing is reminding ourselves of our connection to the divine.  It’s true, we can see the divine anywhere and everywhere.  We can find God in a sunset or the laughter of a child.  But here at church, in the context of the liturgy we are intentional about finding the divine in our everyday lives, not just the beautiful moments. 
            When I was struggling with this sermon, I was trying to think of times of clarity, when I had a clear sense of the divine, a clear direction in where God was leading me.  All the examples I could come up with were happy times, celebratory events, times of light and love.  But for most of us, those moments aren’t consistent.  And if we can only find God in the perfect sunset or rainbow, then we will find the dark days, the anxious times, the lonely times---almost unbearable. 
            Peter was no fool.  He knew that things with Jesus were about to get very scary.  He knew this might be one of the last times where he could get a clear and profound glimpse of the glory of God.   So he wanted to carve that moment out in the mud and the muck so that he could carry it with him always. And in a strange way, that is what the Eucharist is---it’s that point in the week where we remember the whole story.  Listen to the prayer.  It’s the whole story of salvation, leading to the crucifixion and the resurrection.  We tell that story of the suffering and the triumph every week. We tell that story here in this beautiful space, but also in the hospital room with the person who is about to die, in the field of battle with soldiers who are risking their lives, in the home of the person who has not been able to leave their home because of illness.  That sacred story of suffering and triumph is not confined to the beauty of the church sanctuary, nor was Peter trying to confine the divine to three tents on a hill.  But I think he was desperate to remember it, carve it into his heart and mind. 
What he did not realize is that every minute with Jesus was precious, not just when he glowed incandescently.  The most beautiful part of this text, is not the moment Jesus glowed like the sun with the two dead prophets.  It wasn’t even when God spoke from the heavens. It was the time when all was quiet again and Jesus reached down and touched his disciples who were now cowering in the dirt and said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  Obviously, that didn’t wipe every fear from the mind of Peter but it did remind him that he was not alone on this journey.
Often, in the dark points of our life, we look up for something bright, something that will lead us and guide us.  And if we cannot find that, we think that God has deserted us.  Yet often, we find that even in the darkest places, God is there, reaching down and touching us on the shoulder…leading us not by sight, but with his presence. He might not appear as something bright and shiny because our God knows darkness and desperation. He knows what it looks like and what it feels like.  But more importantly, he also knows that there is always a way out.  It’s ok to want to hold on to those precious moments, but it’s also important to remember that experiences with God are never as fleeting as we think they are. They are all around. We just need to reach up and take a hold of the hand resting on our shoulder and rise to meet whatever road is before us.  That is what Jesus told Peter then and what he tells us now, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

March 2, 2014: Matthew 17:1-9

Year A, Transfiguration Sunday                                             
                                                                                           
Today is Transfiguration Sunday.  Transfiguration is one of those words that you mostly hear in church, and even in church you probably only hear it on Transfiguration Sunday.   A word that might be easier to understand is transform.  We could call this Transformation Sunday, but some might worry that sounds a little too new agey…maybe a little too much like Joel Osteen and not enough like Richard Hooker, a famous Anglican theologian…at least as famous as Anglican theologians get.  But for our purposes, transfigure and transforms are pretty much the same.  It’s about a profound change.  Some people prefer transfigure because it indicates a change that happens as a result of God’s presence in our lives, as opposed to some special exercise program we have started to transform our bodies. 
            This is one of those stories that just doesn’t read well.  It’s so otherworldly, almost unfathomable.  I bet it was hard to believe even if you were there.  This is how I imagine Peter telling the story.  “We hiked up a mountain with Jesus.  We figured he was going to share more of his teachings or perhaps take some time alone to pray.  Suddenly, Jesus started to glow and his face was like the sun and somehow his clothes were so white they were blinding.  And if that was not enough all of a sudden two people appeared out of nowhere…and you would not believe who they were.  It was Moses and Elijah! I know, they are supposed to be dead, but they were there, I swear.   Jesus started talking to both of them and a cloud came over them…but it was a bright cloud, not like any we have ever seen.  Then a voice came from the cloud.  Of course we all just fell on the ground and covered our eyes because by then it had just gotten weird.  When we finally got up it was all gone.” While the people following Jesus had experienced some pretty amazing things at this point, nothing could compare to this. 
            I wonder if the disciples were even able to believe it.  Let’s consider the reactions of these three disciples.  After Jesus had been transfigured and started talking to two men who were supposed to be dead, Peter said, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.”  Peter wanted to build some tents so the man who was glowing like the sun and the two great prophets who were supposed to be dead could have shelter overnight.  It sounds a little crazy in retrospect, but I am sure it made sense to Peter at the time.  He was trying to be helpful.  Perhaps he wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was real.
            Yet before Peter could even finish his sentence, a voice came from the cloud declaring, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.” It was this voice, this statement that caused the three disciples to throw themselves on the ground because they were so terrified.   After that Jesus touched them and told them to get up and not be afraid.  They looked up and saw that there was no one there except Jesus.  The next verse has them walking down the mountain with Jesus.  This is all we know of the actions of the disciples. 
I find myself a little perplexed by the fact that it was the voice from the cloud that really scared them.  It wasn’t Jesus transforming before their eyes. It wasn’t the two great prophets who had died appearing before them.  Those were not the things that terrified them.  It was the voice of God…or maybe it was what God said.  “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”  That doesn’t sound so scary.  Peter had just proclaimed that Jesus was the Son of God.  He had said it himself.  Also, if you will recall Jesus’s baptism, God spoke from the clouds and said that very thing….well almost the same thing.  The only difference is that this time, God adds on, “Listen to him!”  No one fell on the ground at Jesus’ baptism.  God’s words created no such reaction then.  So what was so scary this time? 
It might be helpful to look at what happened before they ascended the mountain.  Right after Peter acknowledged Jesus as the Son of God, Jesus started talking about his death.  He told his disciples that he would have to go to Jerusalem so that he could suffer and die.  This horrified them.  Peter had such a strong response that Jesus had to reprimand him.  Jesus went on to tell his disciples that anyone who wanted to follow him would have to take up the cross and deny himself.  It’s not like Jesus had only been sharing warm and fuzzy things before this, but this was the first time he was so direct about his own death and the way that his disciples too might die.  I am sure it was scary to hear these words from Jesus.  Right after they had heard these difficult words from Jesus, God said to them from the heavens, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”  Listen to him.  Dear God, he’s serious…that’s what I would have been thinking.  I can’t help but wonder if it was at that moment when it all fell into place for them.  If that was the case, then falling on the ground in fear was appropriate because this man who they loved, who they had come to believe in and worship was about to die a horrific death.
Did they believe what they were seeing?  Probably…but it was nothing compared with what they were hearing, and with what they were about to see, Jesus beaten, killed, sacrificed.  They were terrified and they had every reason to be.  Jesus had called them as disciples long before this moment, but this might have been the moment when they really understood what that call meant.  It was more than just walking around with a man who showed compassion, performed some miracles and told amazing stories.  Being called by Jesus is about really listening to him…not listening for what you want to hear, but what God wants you to hear.  Listen to him.  So yes, they fell on the ground in terror.
But that was not the end of the story, was it?  Because after Moses and Elijah vanished…after the cloud was gone and the voice was quiet, Jesus touched them.  He said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  In the Gospels, the only time Jesus touches people is when he is healing people.  He knew what they were feeling.  He was probably feeling some of the same things, if not more so.  His voice and his touch was a reminder that they would not go through this alone.  They walked up the mountain together and they would go down the mountain together.  But first, they had to get up.  They had to face their fear and keep moving forward. 

On Transfiguration Sunday, we tend to focus on the way Jesus was transfigured because that is a lot flashier; but the disciples were transfigured as well.  They had experienced the glory of God, but more importantly, they had experienced the bareness of God, the austerity of God.  Because when the light show was over and Moses and Elijah had left, they looked up, and there was Jesus.  As Christians, there will be very few light shows and sometimes we will yearn for the glory, the grandeur of God.  And that’s there, but what we find most often in our day to day life is the Jesus who touches us after we have fallen on our face and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.”  That is the Jesus who we can believe in.