Transfiguration of Our Lord

We have two very powerful stories to consider today. The first is the story of Moses, the liberator. Moses was the one who was able to speak to God face to face and lived to tell the tale. It was such a powerful experience that Moses was literally transformed by it, his face shining bright. I think most of us are at least a little envious of Moses. Wouldn’t we all like to have that kind of experience of God? Theologian Rudolf Otto says that we’re both drawn to God and yet terrified of holy encounters. Deep down even the least religious among us has a yearning for sacred significance. We want someone or something to touch so deep inside that we can’t help but shine as a result. We want transcendence.

The story of Jesus’ transfiguration fits into this category. Jesus climbs a mountain with Peter, John, and James and, like Moses, radiates the glory of God. To be transfigured is to be swept up into something that defies categorization. Every day of our lives we are categorized and labeled. Every day we answer to names and titles and positions. Every day we’re distracted by all the voices that call to us and claim us and often times contain us. It doesn’t take long to start taking these categories and labels to heart, and soon we even identify ourselves by others’ perceptions of who or what we are. I can’t even begin to tell you the number of retired pastors who, upon retiring, have no idea what to do with themselves, because they have no perception of themselves outside of the role of pastor. I don’t know how it is in other professions, but my guess is that it’s the same. For some people there’s a certain amount of unease or even outright fear of retirement, because they can now longer say “I’m an attorney; I’m a teacher; I’m a manager”. They no longer fit into those comfortable categories. Sometimes you see the same thing with parents, once all the kids are out of the house. They realize that they don’t really know who they are, if they aren’t constantly shepherding, carpooling, scolding, and comforting.

Each and every day we are molded and shaped by the roles and expectations, the titles and the labels that others ascribe to us. So, we have this innate hunger for something deeper, something significant, something eternal. We want a vision for our lives.

The stories we have for today challenge us to see the world the way God sees it. People who have been transformed by an encounter with God see the world differently. We see our neighbors differently. We see our enemies differently. Hopefully. We register something deeper inside; something beyond category. Seeing the world as God sees it isn’t about being a pessimist or an optimist; it’s not about being a realist or an idealist. It’s about the transformation of vision. How do you see the world? Is your glass half full or half empty? Is it drained down to the bitter dregs or is it overflowing? How do you see the world and those around you? What if we saw the world through God’s eyes? What would it look like? What would we look like?

What does God see? God sees brokenness and sin. There are those who say that the first 11 chapters of Genesis is an accounting of the brokenness of humankind. I suspect we see that, as well. We see how badly we fall short.

God sees struggle and weakness. Life is hard. Our bodies fail us. Our minds deceive us. People disappoint us. God sees this and sees the pain and suffering in the world.

But God also sees beauty. When God created the world, it was pronounced to be “Good”. Just because we’re no longer in the Garden of Eden doesn’t mean that we no longer experience what Matthew Fox calls “original blessing”, as opposed to “original sin”.

God also sees potential and possibility. Creation was not a one-time thing. It’s ongoing, continually unfolding.

God sees brokenness and sin. God sees struggle and weakness. God sees beauty and potential. God sees all this and more. Maybe that’s why God permitted Moses to glimpse his goodness, transforming him. Believing is all well and good. It’s essential. But without transformation, those stone tablets that Moses carried down from the mountain are nothing more than another set of rules. Through the transformative power of God’s presence, however, they become an eternal covenant.

When you spend time with God; when you enter holy places, you risk having your vision changed to see as God sees. When you see as God sees, it not only transfigures your vision. It also transfigures your response. You respond in a holy way. That’s how vision works. Your eye takes in information. The information is delivered to your brain. The brain interprets the information and responds. When you change your vision, you change how you respond.

When Moses came down from the mountain, he glowed with God’s presence and lead Israel into its promise. When Jesus and the disciples came down from the mountain, they were met with a father pleading on behalf of his broken son. Spending time with God is not just about more Bible study, more sermons, or more prayer. It’s about seeing as God sees and responding. When you see as God sees, you begin to see how God is present even in the worst situations.

Having an encounter with God changes how you live, how you respond, and how you join in God’s mission in the world. Without a transfigured vision, we’re left with a life that reflects none of God’s glory. We’re left with white supremacy, anti-Semitism, the carnage wrought by perpetual war, school shootings, political and social divisions. With God’s glory we have a vision that changes things. The worst of humanity is not the final word or the decisive narrative of creation. God has far better things in mind for us.  But this doesn’t just happen. For this to happen, you have to work at it. You have to climb the mountain and spend time with God:

praying, searching, arguing, hoping, sometimes even wrestling. And then you need to come down off that mountain prepared to do something.

When we see as God sees, and when we respond as God responds, others will see God working through us. They see a reflection of God’s glory, God’s hope, God’s grace. No, they don’t see everything. Even Moses only got to see God’s backside. But they get a glimpse.

Deep down, we all want something that is beyond category; beyond the old, and dull, and broken. We want grace. We want redemption. We want a vision for the future. We want something that’s authentic and real, that cannot be taken from us.

Sometimes it happens in surprising ways. I remember once being at the Guggenheim museum in New York. I happened upon a small canvas by the abstract expressionist Mark Rothko. And before I knew what was happening to me, I had tears running down my face. Something about the form, the color, the rhythm of the painting touched a very deep place within me.

Maybe that’s a little much to ask of worship every single week. Transfiguration may only happen a couple of times in the course of our lives. But every Sunday we gather together. We climb this mountain together and seek the face of God in the Word, in Holy Communion, in our prayers, in our songs, and in our silence.

The traditional benediction used at the end of worship includes the phrase “May the Lord make his face shine upon you” (Numbers 6:25). That’s the blessing we want. That’s the blessing we need. And isn’t that how we want to leave this place? Glowing, radiant. Filled with a sense of new vision and new life. Not necessarily because of a particular hymn or sermon, but because we’ve had an experience of God, that changes us. Something that changes how we see and how we live, for the sake of God’s glory. Isn’t that the purpose of the Church, after all? To reflect the glory of God! To allow ourselves to shine with the light of Christ! In fact, we say those very words in the order for Holy Baptism, when the one baptized is presented with their baptismal candle: They’re the words of Jesus in Matthew 5:16. “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Moses saw the glory of God and left the mountain shining. Jesus showed us God’s glory and changed the world. We, too, have been transformed by God’s glory. The challenge for us, then, is to see the world as God sees the world; and to respond to the world as God responds to the world, so that others may see God’s glory, too. Our challenge, like Jesus’ challenge, is to change the world.

AMEN

Previous
Previous

First Sunday in Lent

Next
Next

7th Sunday after Epiphany