Transfiguration
Sermon delivered to St. Paul’s (Mount Vernon, WA) 2/19/2023
Give ear O heavens, and I will speak. Let the earth hear the words of my mouth, for I will proclaim the Name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God!
During the season of Epiphany, we hear the voice of God two times.
The first time we hear God’s voice is at Jesus’ baptism. Jesus rises up out of the waters of baptism and we hear a voice from heaven: “You are my beloved Son; in you I am well pleased.”
What God said to Jesus, Fr. Paul reminded us at the beginning of the season, God says to each of us, as well. “In you I am well pleased. And in you. And you. And you!”
What God says to Jesus, God says to each of us.
Some years ago I did a funeral for a woman who had no church home; her family chose to hold the service at the funeral home, and the director there asked if I would come and do the service. Each of the woman’s grandchildren took a few minutes to talk about their relationship with Granny, and each shared a secret there that they had never shared before.
Their Grandma would take them each out to lunch every now and then – one at a time – and she would pull them in close and in a conspiratorial whisper she’d say, “I’ve got a secret, and you can’t tell anybody. Promise me.”
Each grandchild would lean in close and promise, “I won’t say anything, Grandma. I promise.”
Grandma would then lean in even closer and, in a very low voice, she’d say, “You know, I love all of my grandchildren. I love all of you equally. You know that, don’t you?”
Each grandchild would nod, “Yes, Grandma. I know that.”
Then Granny would add, “But here’s my secret. I love you all equally, but you’re my favorite.”
None of the grandchildren ever broke their promise while she was alive, but as they shared their stories, they discovered that what she said to one, she had said to each: “You’re my favorite.”
When they were done sharing this very special secret for the first time, and it was my turn to speak, I confessed, “If I had known her, I suspect I would have been her favorite priest.”
Granny wasn’t playing games. She meant what she said to each child. She loved each of them as her favorite, so they never had to compete for her love. They knew they had it from the get-go.
That’s a God-shot. I heard their story and I knew: That’s how God is. God is like Granny!
God says to Jesus: You’re my favorite. And God says to each and every one of us: You’re my favorite. And you. And you. And we know it.
We may look at Jesus and say, “yes, but he was perfect. He was sinless.”
That’s all true. But God doesn’t look at what we say or do (at least, not in that sense). God looks at who we are. You and I were created in the image of God. We may look a little worse for wear; we may stand before God a bit broken, chipped, or smudged, (maybe even downright smashed) but God says, “That’s OK. I don’t see them as they look, but as they are; my kids. Each (wink) is my favorite.”
That’s the heart of God, isn’t it? That’s the heart of a loving Grandma. That special love for you, and you, and you, and you.
That’s what God had to say at the front end of the Epiphany season. Here on the back end, on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, we hear the voice of God again in a couple of stories.
The first one is the story of Moses being invited to spend a week with God on Mt Sinai, and he ends up staying there for 40 days. What’s that all about?
Generally we focus on Moses. Moses goes to talk to God there on the Mountain, and God gives him the tablets of the Law. Every time I hear that story, I can’t help but hear in my mind the crashing of thunder, and the flashing of lightning. Can you hear it, too? Can you see it, too? The Bible tells us the mountain was positively volcanic with smoke and fire. The children of Israel were down in the valley, and they looked up, and they could see the red glow of the flames, the dark, black smoke billowing up, the roaring thunder.
How could Moses live through that? How could Joshua live through that? How could anyone live through that?
When I think of that scene, I can’t help but think about my father. I always considered him as a disciplinarian, although for the life of me I don’t remember him ever laying a hand on me. I’m sure he did when I was very young. But I don’t think he had to. On those very, very rare occasions when I might have been ever-so-slightly out of line, my Dad would disappear and in his place an army Drill Instructor would materialize. If we had stood nose to nose, I have no doubt I would have melted into nothingness like the Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
I didn’t see it often, but when D.I. Fred showed up, it was time to straighten up and fly right!
I remember one time I had gotten into some sort of mischief at school. I don’t remember now what it was, but my Dad said to me, “Keith, you will do nothing to bring dishonor to the Axberg name. The name is rare and precious, and if you ever do anything to tarnish it, you’ll regret it. And if you ever go to jail for anything, don’t look to me to bail you out.”
I don’t know if he meant it, but I’ll tell you one thing. I was never going to risk trying to find out.
Now, I know my Dad may seem like a bit of a tyrant or ogre (the way I’m describing him here), but for the most part we got along just fine, and I knew down here (in my heart) that he didn’t just mean well. It was his way of saying, “I love you. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to make bad choices.”
That’s God up there on the Mountain, talking to Moses. “Come on up. I’ve got a gift for you and the kids down in the valley. This whole situation is new for you and for them. I’ve got you covered. On days when you don’t see me, on days when you don’t feel my presence, follow these and you will do just fine.”
Forget that rough and tough exterior. Inside, God knows we’re going to goof up.
“Don’t do it.” We’ve been warned. And maybe there is a side of us that is scared to death that God means it. But if we go behind the special effects, it’s clear what God is saying, “I love you. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to make bad choices.”
That’s the heart of God, isn’t it? That’s the heart of a loving Pappa. That special love for you, and you, and you, and you.
We get to see the heart of God again in the Gospel. It’s the story of the Transfiguration. Have you ever wondered what that’s all about?
The Season of Epiphany is about revealing the heart of God to the world.
For many, God is scary. I can’t help but think of Michelangelo's painting of God reaching out to Adam. Adam is all laid back and lazy, barely lifting a finger to reach God, and God is looking down at Adam, with furrowed, scowling brow and staring, glaring eyes. God looks like he’d rather toss Adam into the bowels of hell than give him life.
That’s the image so many of us grew up with: God as judge and jury, ready to pounce on each and every infraction of the rules.
But when we look at the life of Jesus in the Gospels – God incarnate – we see him feeding the hungry, hugging the untouchables, healing the sick, or raising the dead. We see Jesus giving people second chances, third chances … as many chances as they need to change.
And that’s a miracle! Jesus, Peter, James, and John went up onto a high mountain, and when they got to the top, Jesus was changed right before their very eyes. Metamorphosis - Transfiguration.
Have you ever seen something far off and wondered what it is? You can do a couple of things. You can try to get to it, or you can grab your binoculars and try to bring it closer to you. Jesus became the binoculars or the telescope through which Peter, James, and Jon could look through and see the glory of God. And what exactly is the glory of God? What did they see?
The glory of God is God’s mercy!
For just a moment, the disciples got to see God’s mercy. Peter, of course, wants to capture the moment. Let’s put up some tents and camp out. That’s the word that’s been translated “booths.” When God brought Israel out of bondage in Egypt, they camped out in the wilderness.
But Jesus said, "Peter, you ol’ boy scout, we’re not camping out here. This is a mountain top. People don’t live on the top of the mountain, but down in the valleys. The mercy of God goes with us down into the valley. That’s where we find people oppressed. That’s where we find people suffering. That’s where we’ll find people homeless. That’s where we’ll find people hungry, and lonely. That's where we'll find people sick, and in prison, and those out of their minds, heads filled with anger, fear, worries, or feeling of inadequacy. That’s where we will find injustice that needs to be challenged."
The mercy of God cannot be captured or caged or kept in a castle behind a moat, or within the confines of this church building.
The mercy of God cannot stay here (in the heart). God has declared the mercy of God shall be let loose. "The mercy of God shall die at the hands of evil and wicked people," (we'll get to that during Holy Week), but it will NOT be extinguished. The mercy of God will flare up again (we call that "resurrection," and we'll get to that when we get to Easter), but the mercy of God will flare up again and you will carry that flame down into the valleys and into the world.
And that is the miracle of the Transfiguration. It isn’t that Jesus was changed, but we got to see the light of God’s countenance in Jesus, and Jesus says, “It’s in you, too. Don’t stand still. Don’t be afraid. Even if others don’t see it, the light of God’s mercy burns brightly in you, too. And in you. And in you. And in you.”
Thanks be to God. Amen.
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