In the name of God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Have
you ever had a mountaintop experience? You know, those events that somehow seem
to be more real than ordinary reality? A moment where life doesn’t seem to be
big enough to hold the experience? A few years ago I had the privilege of going
to Israel; standing in the places where Jesus taught, died, and rose again were
mountaintop experiences. The birth of our daughters were similar experiences.
Perhaps you’ve had that sort of experience, too? Maybe when you saw a
particular painting in the Louvre, maybe when saw the Grand Canyon out of an
airplane window, maybe when attended Evensong, maybe when you fell in love?
Mountaintop experiences are holy and memorable because they awaken us to the
beauty, depth, and grandeur of life that we ordinarily overlook.
This
morning, all of our readings point towards one such mountaintop experience in
Scripture, often referred to as the Transfiguration. Jesus and a few disciples
go up a mountain and Jesus is transfigured, that is that he appears different,
somehow fuller of glory. This year is a bit unique in that we’ll celebrate this
event, the Transfiguration, twice. August 6 is always the Feast of the
Transfiguration, and this year August 6 is a Sunday. So, you might wonder why
it is that every Sunday before Lent, we also focus on this event.
You’ll
recall that the season after Epiphany is about considering the ways in which
Jesus’ ministry and mission is revealed to the world. We begin on January 6
when we remember that the magi visited the Christ-child, revealing him to be a
Messiah not only for the Jewish people, but for the entire world. In the weeks
that followed, we got further revelations into the Word made flesh. We heard
about his Baptism and God’s declaration that Jesus is the beloved Son of God.
We were invited to “come and see” Jesus as called his first disciples and
delivered the Sermon on the Mount. In that sermon, which we read over the past
several Sundays, we heard about how Jesus is a revolutionary prophet who takes
us deeper into the heart of God.
And
so as we conclude this season in the rhythm of the Church Year, we do so with
an event that reveals something further about Jesus. He appears on the
mountaintop with Moses and Elijah, two of the pillars of the Old Testament; Moses
as a symbol of the Torah and Elijah as a symbol of the Prophets. As Jesus said
in our reading a few weeks ago, he came “not to abolish the law or the prophets
but to fulfill.” It is an important event because it makes clear that the glory
that we see in Jesus is the same glory that created the universe, that
liberated the people from slavery in Egypt, and that invites us into the power
and salvation of God’s love.
Another
theme that we’ve been seeing since the Epiphany is that the glory shown by
Jesus isn’t what the world would expect. Jesus rules not with might, or an
army, or from a throne, but rather Jesus reorients us to see that it is the
poor and the meek who are blessed. At the end of this Transfiguration event,
Jesus refers to his impending Death and Resurrection. It is a reminder to us
that fullest glory of God is yet to come; we will see it when we see Jesus on
the Cross on Good Friday. That is where this story is heading, that is where we
will most fully see the Word made flesh. The Cross will show us the depths of
God’s love, it will show us the depths of human sin and depravity, it will
radically reorient the way we think about victory.
This
is one reason why this particular reading is so appropriate and helpful as we
transition from Epiphany to Lent. The Transfiguration encapsulates what we have
seen revealed about Jesus, and it prepares us for the darkness that is to come.
Like any of us would be, Peter, James, and John are overcome with fear at this
event. They fall down to the ground as the light of Christ is made manifest to
them and they see a vision of Moses and Elijah. It would be like going to
Washington DC and having George Washington and Abraham Lincoln show up. But in
their fear, Jesus comes to them and touches them, saying “Do not be afraid.” I’m
sure that most of us have experienced this. When you’re hopping mad, overcome
with grief, or terrified, all it takes is a gentle hand on your shoulder to
give you the calm and strength to carry on. This gentle and reassuring touch is
what Jesus offers the disciples.
It’s a reminder to us
that the theological concept of the Word made flesh isn’t just a doctrine, but
a reality. Faith isn’t as much about what you think, but rather how open you
are to what God is doing. So often though we reverse that, we think the burden of faith
is on us, but it’s really about participating in what God is already doing. So
“do not be afraid,” isn’t an admonishment, it isn’t Jesus saying “stop having
emotions,” rather it’s more about reminding us of God’s presence with us.
What lies ahead of us liturgically
can be disorienting and frightening. On Wednesday, I will put ashes on your
forehead, reminding you of your impending death. Lent will be a time of
self-reflection. And Holy Week will be full of pain and betrayal. If we are
going to make it through the weeks ahead, we must remember that God is with us.
The light that we see in the Transfiguration will accompany us into the dark
places of our lives.
Your awareness of the
presence of God might come in different ways – perhaps it will come through a moment
of our liturgy, perhaps God’s reassuring presence will come in the form of a
friend’s hand on your shoulder, it might come in prayer where you have an
intuitive sense that you are not alone. This episode though declares that there
is a reality to our faith, that God reaches out to you.
Peter’s response to the
Transfiguration is to try to capture or commemorate the experience. He says “it
is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here.” And
so often that’s what we’d like to do with our mountaintop experiences – we want
them to last forever, we want them to always exist so we can go revisit them.
But we all know that’s just not how it works. After the voice of God declares
God’s favor upon Jesus, they all go back down the mountain. Our faith is about movement,
not stasis. Faith is about growth.
Traditionally, Lent is a
season in which we focus on growth. The classic ways to grow in our spiritual
depth are prayer, fasting, self-examination, and reading Scripture. In these final
days before Ash Wednesday, you might think about what sort of growth you’d like
to experience in Lent. Might you desire to have a more regular prayer life?
Might you want to be more well versed in Scripture? Might you want to make some
changes in your life?
Over the next few days,
set aside some time for prayer and reflection, maybe take a walk in our
labyrinth as you do this self-examination. How is God calling you to go deeper
in your faith? In what aspects of your life can you be more open to God? What
stirrings is God making in your life? Sit with these questions and consider how
Lent might be a time of intentional spiritual growth for you.
Lenten disciplines could
look like a lot of things. Last year, I felt a need to slow down and experience
the beauty of daily life, so I took on the discipline of reading a poem each
morning. Some people choose to come to our services of Morning or Evening
Prayer regularly in Lent to reconnect to a holier rhythm of life. You might
consider reading a chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew each day in Lent,
or a Psalm a day. For some, giving things up is helpful – you might discipline
yourself in your usage of social media or your phone, you might give up
chocolate or alcohol as a sacrifice. You might plan to come for the Sacrament
of Reconciliation at least once during Lent. There is no one right way to do
Lent, but there is a wrong way to do Lent, and that is to be lacking in
attention and intention. Spend some time preparing for a holy Lent, and know
that Bonnie and I are available to help you in thinking through your Lenten
practices.
The thing about
mountaintop experiences is that they peel back some of the layers of life and
show us the abiding truths and riches of God’s love and grace. God’s presence
is always with us, and so the mountaintop is always closer than we think. This
Lent, you are invited to go deeper in your faith.
What is so interesting
about the mountaintop is that no experience can ever fully capture the breadth
and depth of God, and yet God chooses to break into our realities in these
moments. We all know that a cup of wine or a piece of bread cannot hold the
fullness of God. But that doesn’t stop God from coming to us in tangible ways
that we can grasp. God, it seems, is quite content to show up in things like
sunsets, like music, like holy dialogue, like a wafer of bread. God’s glory is
all around us, waiting to be received, waiting to transform our world. God reveals
this glory to us in ways that we can receive it – thanks be to God.
