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. 

Blaze of Glory: March 3, 2019

Year C, Transfiguration                                                       

2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2                                                            

                       

            What would you do if you knew that you could not fail?  It’s an interesting question to ponder. There are some people who live like that.  They try anything.  They have no fear.  Sometimes that translates into recklessness, sometimes not.  Then there are those people who are scared, but they do it anyways because something or someone is supporting them, providing confidence and hope.  Jesus lived this way (as though he could not fail) and so did Paul and the other disciples.  Paul and the disciples were not reckless, although I am sure that some people around them thought they were.  They had confidence not because of displaced sense of self-importance but because they believed that God was in their corner.   

            The section that we heard from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is a bit tricky.  If it seemed a little confusing to you, you are in good company.  Paul was referencing the story of Moses.  When Moses encountered God in the Old Testament, God’s glory was so bright, that Moses’ face would glow. Then he would have to veil his face because God’s glory would actually scare people.  He had to protect people from God’s glory. 

            Paul was explaining to the Corinthians that everything changed when Jesus came, because God’s glory came to us in human form.  Even though Jesus died and his body left this earth, his glory remains, in the people of God.  We no longer have to fear God’s glory because humans are able to take on that glory.

            We do not talk a lot about God’s glory because it seems inaccessible—just out there.  However, the point that Paul was trying to make was that it is accessible. Jesus made it accessible.  If we turn to God, not only can we glimpse God’s glory, we can become a part of it.  We can be participants in God’s glory.  Paul wrote, “And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree to another, for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.”    

            If you look at the front of our bulletin, you will see that our mission statement is “to live in the Spirit of Christ.”  To some that might seem abstract and there is certainly room for interpretation.  If we read the mission statement in light of Paul’s words, then living in the Spirit of Christ means that we are being transformed into God’s glorious image from one degree of glory to another. It means that we can live without fear of failure because we have God’s Spirit.  Living without fear of failure doesn’t mean that we don’t ever fail.  In fact, it means that we will probably fail more often. It also means that we will have more opportunities to be the people who God calls us to be, to truly embody the glory of God. 

            Now I have to admit, that I am not really good at casting off fear and living boldly.  I am cautious.  (I have had some variation of the same hair style since I was in 5^th grade.) But I am not the only cautious one in our church.  Christians have become complacent over the last several hundred years.  We got comfortable in the 20^th century.  We became accustomed to being the majority.  We got used to sitting in places of power.  And once you have that comfortable position, well it’s harder to take risks.  We have more to lose. 

            The early church was full of risk.  We might say, well it was easier because they had less to lose.  While they did not have the reputation of the established church to worry about, they certainly had a lot to lose.  Paul was an important person in the Jewish faith.  He had authority.  He was also a Roman citizen, which meant he was well respected and a little more comfortable than the average Jew.  He gave that all up, so that he could walk hundreds of miles and talk to people about Jesus---so he could be beaten and imprisoned—so he could be mocked and criticized—so he could be the greatest evangelist who ever lived. 

            The first line of our reading for today is, “Since, then, we have such hope, we act with great boldness.”  When Paul said that we act with boldness, he was referencing not his own self confidence and valor, but the boldness that comes with freedom.  The origin of his freedom was the Spirit of the Lord.  It was the Spirit of the Lord that gave him the freedom to live as though he had no fear, to live boldly and to never lose heart. That Spirit of the Lord resides with all of us—gives us all the freedom to live boldly.      

            So forget that question I started with: What would you do if you knew you could not fail?  The better question is: What would do if you knew that failure was a part of our Christian journey and that failure was a part of bold action?  We don’t risk failing so that we can achieve glory, we take risks because we already share in God’s glory.  Every time we act with boldness in our life as Christians---we do so with the Spirit of God within us. By acting boldly, we come closer to the people who God calls us to be. 

            Being bold and taking risks is not easy.  I know that.  Yet I am convinced that our church needs boldness.  We need to take risks if we want to continue transforming from one degree of glory to the other.  If we are able to partake in these risks together, then we can be there for one another when we do fail and rejoice with one another when we succeed.

            There are a lot of people out there who will tell you that the church is dying.  I do not believe that.  However, if we continue on our current trajectory, the denominational churches won’t last the next 100 years. That makes me sad, because I think there are a lot of churches (St. John’s being one of them) that are worth saving.  If there ever was a time to be bold in our churches, it is now.  If there ever was a time to take risks, it is now. I believe that if we are bold in our faith and embody the glory of God, we will survive and thrive.  But if I am wrong…and the church doesn’t survive, wouldn’t you rather go out in a blaze of glory?  We have  been “fighten sin since 1610” but maybe it’s time to stop fighting against something and start fighting for something, fighting for transformation and God’s glory.  Will you fight with me?

Transfiguration: February 11, 2018

Mark 9:2-9                                                                          
Year B, Last Sunday of Epiphany                                                       

 

            I was listening to the news a couple of days ago and heard someone being interviewed about SpaceX, which is a private aerospace manufacturer founded by Elon Musk.  Just this past week, they launched an incredibly powerful rocket into space, the most powerful rocket in the last several decades. Apparently the ultimate goal of SpaceX is to colonize Mars.  Their next project is a spaceship that would be the size of a 16 story skyscraper, essentially a cruise ship to outer space. It could take about 100 people to Mars. 

Obviously the story caught my attention, but it did not surprise or shock me.  Sure, a cruise ship to Mars, why not?  We have become so technologically advanced, that it almost seems that anything is possible….which is wild because I am old enough to remember when I saw my first cell phone…which was a car phone at the time.  The idea that you could make a phone call from a car blew my mind.  It is amazing that 25 years later, a cruise ship to Mars seems feasible to me. 

            It is a lot harder to impress or shock people nowadays.  We are accustomed to special effects in movies, smart phones that can control the lights in our home, the ability to get anything we want or need by talking to a disembodied voice called Alexa or Siri.  Yet when I was reading about this Gospel text, the Transfiguration, commentators kept stressing how unbelievable and mysterious the event was…how impossible it is to comprehend a man lighting up and voice coming from heaven.  I thought, we are talking about cruise ships to Mars, how is it that clothes whiter than anyone could bleach them would be mind blowing or unimaginable?

            Yet it is, when you think about---well it’s more than just thinking about it, it’s best if you can imagine yourself there as part of that scene.  You have just hiked up a mountain with a man you have come to admire and perhaps even worship.  You have seen him do amazing things, heal people and drive out demons.  However, you have also seen him when he was tired and hungry.  You have seen him sit down and eat a big meal.  You have seen him when he is frustrated and scared.  In some ways, he’s just your average guy. And then suddenly you see him glowing.  It’s not just that his clothes are white, his whole presence has become dazzling.  It is like looking at the sun just a few moments too long or coming out of a dark tunnel and finding yourself in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.  He isn’t just bright, he is transformed so radically that it is disorienting. 

If that is not crazy enough, he is talking to two people who have appeared out of nowhere.  Not only do they appear out of nowhere, they are two people who are supposed to be dead.  It is Elijah and Moses, two giants of the Hebrew faith.  Then a cloud sweeps in.  You might think a cloud would not be that impressible, but in the Jewish faith the presence of a cloud, especially on a mountain, symbolized the presence of God. If that was not dramatic enough….all of a sudden, there is a voice that comes from the sky and proclaims, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”

Granted, Mars might seem like another world, but it is still part of our galaxy.  Yet this Transfiguration marked a moment when heaven and earth touched, when the living and dead inhabited one space, when Jesus could be both human and divine, and when the voice of God could break through the silence.

There are only two times in the Gospel of Mark when we hear the voice of God that comes directly from heaven.  It’s at Jesus baptism when the sky splits and the Transfiguration.  At Jesus’ baptism the voice said, “You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”  God was talking to Jesus as he was beginning his public ministry.  He was affirming him and empowering him. In today’s reading, God is speaking to the disciples, but he is also speaking to us.  Jesus isn’t just another powerful preacher and teacher.  He is not just a miracle worker who healed some people, he is the Son of God, and for that reason alone, we need to listen to him. 

            After the light show, the guest appearance of the two dead prophets, the cloud and the voice….poof…it was gone.  It was only Jesus who was left. The disciples could have walked down that mountain and convinced themselves it was a dream or a trick of the light.  Or, they could let the experience change them and become part of who they were.  Since we know that three of the four Gospels tell the story of the Transfiguration, it is apparent that this was an event that had an incredible impact not only on the disciples who were present, but the early church as well. 

            What makes the Transfiguration more awe inspiring and more spectacular than a cruise ship to Mars is that it has the potential to affect all of us.  It is not just life changing for a few special people who were there 2000 years ago; it changes all who are willing to open themselves to the extraordinary and mesmerizing glory of God.   God’s light did not just stay with Jesus after he was transfigured, nor did it simply disappear into the ether; it was released into the world so that we all can become vessels of that light. 

I know that I have preached a few sermons about the need to be the light and carry the light.  That is important, but before we can be the light, we have to open ourselves to the glory of the light.  We have to behold the light.  It’s not a one and done type of thing.  We celebrate Christmas and Easter every year.  We celebrate the Transfiguration every year.  We do that for several reasons, but one of the reasons is so that we can have many opportunities to remind ourselves of the power and glory of God. As Christians, we have unlimited opportunities to be transformed.

            Some of the opportunities can be found in the sacraments of the church, like baptism and communion.  Other opportunities can be found in less formal areas, like service and outreach.  Night’s Welcome is an incredible example of transformation because we see the building actually transformed into a place where the homeless people sleep and eat.  Yet the deeper transformation is in the people who come here and the people who serve.  Every year I find myself a little bit humbled by the amount of people who come and serve, the amount a few people sacrifice so that many can be served, and especially the people who come and sleep on our floors. 

            The story of the Transfiguration is dramatic and breathtaking, yet it is often the ordinary transformations that we see that can really change us.  I find that the most profound transformations I experience are when I allow myself to see not just the spectacular, but also the tragic and heart breaking.  Because when we allow our hearts to break just a little, we may find that the light of Christ breaks in--- in a magnificent and glorious way.

    

Just Jesus: August 6, 2017

Year A, Transfiguration                                                         
Luke 9:28-36                                                                                    

            Recently, I have been trying to get more organized.  I realized that I was feeling scattered, trying to do a million things at once, but never seeming to get anything done.  I thought, this has to be fixable.  I just need to figure it out.  I have made some changes in how I set my schedule and ensure I follow up on tasks.  But the major change is that I don’t try to do more than one thing at a time.  I am sure most of you have had this experience.  You are sitting down trying to accomplish one task, and then your computer chimes and you find yourself reading an e-mail.  You start to reply but are distracted because you see on your phone that a text has come in.  You start responding to the text and then see a news item pop up on your screen and go to read the article. This can all happen in about 3 minutes.  By the time you have read the article, you have completely forgotten what you sat down to do.  Most people have experienced some version of this. 

With all of our technology and devices, we have become more efficient in some ways and less efficient in others.  Most people pride themselves on their ability to multitask, but the whole concept of multitasking is a myth.  I have a good friend who is a neurologist and she told me that it is actually impossible to do more than one thing at once.  What we do is that that we shift from one task to another rapidly.  Sometimes this is handy. However, I think a lot of times, it makes us more fractured and scattered.  That is why at a time when we are more technologically advanced than ever, there is a movement to become more mindful.  That is why things like yoga are so popular because there is a focus on being present in that moment.   

            While Jesus and his disciples were not affected by technology, they still knew what it was to be pulled in different directions.  Often times, Jesus would go off to pray because even the savior of humanity needed time to be away from people and day to day tasks.  Occasionally he would take a few of his disciples with him.  That was what happened in our Gospel reading for today.  He took three disciples up to the mountain with him to pray.  Yet instead of having some nice quiet time with their friend and teacher, Jesus, the disciples experienced a bit of a light show.  While Jesus was praying, his clothes became dazzling white and his face changed.  As if this was not strange enough, two men appeared out of nowhere.  They were not just any two men, they were Moses and Elijah, two pillars of their faith, two people who were supposed to be dead. 

            It must have been an amazing thing to behold—these three men together. Peter did the logical thing, he offered to make some tents for them. He offered to make tents…for two people who were dead.  It seems like an odd offer.  Even the Gospel writer comments that Peter did not know what he was talking about.  Peter is one of those people who always seemed to be saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.  For millennia people have been speculating what Peter was thinking when he made that offer.  Was it a display of hospitality?  Was he being practical?  One theory I have always liked is that he was trying to convince Moses and Elijah to stay a little while.  They had come a long way… back from the dead.  There were so many reasons why Peter would have wanted this holy moment to last longer.

            Lately, I have been wondering if it was something else entirely.  I wonder if it was just too much for Peter.  I wonder if the moment was so astounding, he just had to do something else. He needed a task to accomplish. He wanted something to do with his hands so he would not have to think about the ramifications of this moment.  He would not have to hear Jesus talking to Moses and Elijah about Jesus’ departure….which was Jesus’ death.  Who can blame him?  Why would he want to think about his friend dying?  How many of us have turned on the radio to tune out our thoughts, or watched a stupid television show to zone out? 

So much of what culture seems to be pushing right now is not things to make us more efficient, but things to distract us.  One of the things I love about writing sermons is that it is the one time when I am forced to sit in silence and let my mind wander. Otherwise, I am always listening to music or podcasts or reading.  Being distracted has become a way of life.

God does not like it when people try to avoid him or his message.  Before Peter could even finish his sentence, God sent a cloud over them.  Our text says, “a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.”  If this was not dramatic enough, God spoke from the cloud and said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  No more chitter chatter Peter! Stop your yapping and listen!  This is what I love about this specific text.  It says, “When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent…”  Moses and Elijah were gone.  There was no light show.  No clouds.  No booming voices.  It was Jesus…alone.   Thankfully the disciples had the presence of mind to keep silent.  I imagine that they had a lot of questions rolling around in their heads, but they knew that there was only one response to this kind of glory…silence. 

One of the things church should offer to every person is one hour a week where there is no distraction from God. It is one hour when we open ourselves up to what God might be telling us.  There are certainly people out there who have the ability to do that on their own, but those people are the exception and not the rule.  Of course we have our share of distractions, even in church, but the goal is to have time to focus on God.  Our opening prayer for today says, “Mercifully grant that we, being delivered from the disquietude of this world, may by faith behold the King in his beauty…” In case you are not familiar with this word, disquietude is the elegantly Episcopal way to say anxiety.

Life is full of so many anxieties, even if you are someone who does not suffer from technology overload.  Anxiety/worry is something we all carry.  Therefore, it is important to have some time in the week to unload those burdens.  Leave them at the door.  Because it is only when we can release these things (even release them a little) that we can truly behold the King—the King of Glory-- in his spectacular beauty.   After Moses and Elijah were gone—after the light show was over—after the voices stopped and the cloud receded, there was Jesus…just Jesus.  That is what we are looking for here every Sunday.  We are looking for Jesus.