Transfiguration and the Dream of God

Last Sunday After The Epiphany

Ex. 24:12-18; Matt. 17:1-9; St. Paul’s

2/26/2017, Jim Melnyk

“Transfiguration and the Dream of God”

One day I was walking our labyrinth and I decided to walk it backwards on the way out – just to try something different.  I realized right away that walking the labyrinth backwards is awkward at best.  It was harder to keep my balance.  I used muscles in a way I wasn’t used to using them.  I could not anticipate when the sharp turns were coming up or which way the turn would be – to the left or to the right.  It’s disconcerting – not being able to anticipate what comes next.  And I realize that’s true about how we look at life.  It’s disconcerting – troubling – anxiety-provoking when we can’t anticipate what’s ahead in life.

In the labyrinth there’s an easy answer.  If we get too anxious we can just turn around – which happens to be another word for repent - and face forward and follow the path.  Easy-peasy, right?  In life it’s more difficult – facing our dis-ease with the unknown or the unexpected.  What I learned in the labyrinth at that moment is the need on my part to be more mindful of the path I’m on wherever I find myself.  I learned about the need to be more mindful and accepting of the reality that I cannot anticipate everything; and that sometimes I’ll start to turn one way – even if it’s not necessarily a wrong way – only to realize I’m missing the path and having to adjust.  I realize that the labyrinth lesson for me has to do with being transformed from someone who gets anxious with the unknown into one who looks to Christ, and the deepening of my faith, to know that I cannot get lost from God even in the midst of the unknown or unanticipated.

The Transfiguration drives that lesson home for me.  It has to be understood – and experienced – within the whole context of Jesus’ life and ministry to make sense.  At this point the disciples might feel like they’re walking backwards through life: stumbling this way and that, even with Jesus as a guide along the way. 

Jesus has just finished telling them that he will be arrested in Jerusalem – not only arrested, but tortured and killed.  I’m thinking that life is starting to feel a bit disconcerting for them – a bit troubling – perhaps more than a little anxiety-provoking because they can’t anticipate what the future holds for their teacher and friend who has set his face toward Jerusalem and the cross.

The Transfiguration becomes a turning point for them – almost like turning on a light in a darkened room – or in a darkened world.  It is the beginning of a transformation from being a bunch of students to a core of followers, and then finally to a group of faithful apostles – proclaiming boldly the Good News of God in Christ even at times in the midst of great adversity.

Writing in his book, becoming human: Core Teachings of Jesus, Brian Taylor explains, “No matter who he [is] dealing with, Jesus [is] concerned with one thing, and one thing only:

a transformation of the heart to God, so that the believer might be more loving and more free.  Social status, religious trappings, even expected behavior were all secondary to this one vision.  What [matters] most to Jesus,” writes Taylor, is “an authentically human life, grounded fully in the Spirit” (Cowley Publications, p 167).  The Transfiguration becomes more than a glimpse into the coming glory of Jesus on Easter Day.  The Transfiguration becomes a glimpse into what God has in store for us as people longing to let the image and likeness of God, which we each bear, shine in and through us.

When Peter, James and John hear the voice of God from the cloud, God doesn’t say, “This is my Son, my Chosen, worship him!”  Rather, the voice from heaven says, “Listen to him!”  Listen to him!  And we seek to listen as people who are being transformed by the life-changing Light of Christ in our lives. 

We listen as Jesus says to us, “Love one another as I have loved you,” and sometimes we feel up to the task.  We listen, sometimes rather anxiously, to the commands, “Wash one another’s feet.  Forgive one another as God has forgiven you.  Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you,” and wonder if we can pull it off faithfully. 

We take solace when we hear, “Peace be with you,” and we struggle to bring that peace, especially to those with whom we struggle.  We listen with thanksgiving as Jesus says, “This is my body – this is my blood – given for you.”  We find ourselves challenged as we hear Jesus tell us to “Take up our cross,” or to “Be not afraid,” and to feed his sheep – without any provisions for drug-testing first, I might add.

We get the idea of “Follow me,” without too much trouble, but stumble when we realize that “following” means actually choosing to being like Christ.  We hear Jesus challenging us to help change the world – and we struggle to hold ourselves faithful to a vision of what the kingdom of heaven is meant to look like today.  The voice from the cloud says “This is my son, my Beloved.  Listen to him,” and we want to – we really want to – it’s just that sometimes it’s such a hard thing to do.  

Theologian and educator, the late Howard Thurman, wrote about a world transformed by the glory of God.  “There must be always remaining in the individual life some place for the singing of angels – some place for that which in itself is breathlessly beautiful….”  Thurman wrote about an “inherent prerogative” from God that takes the flood of experience from the everyday realities of life and allows them to glow “in one bright light of penetrating beauty and meaning…. The commonplace… shot through with new glory.” (http://www.michaelppowers.com/wisdom/thurman.html).

Thurman reminds us that “As long as we hold a dream in the heart, we cannot lose the significance of living.  The dream in the heart is one with the living water welling up from the very spring of Being, nourishing and sustaining all life” (ibid).  This, in part, is what the late Verna Dozier meant when she wrote about the dream of God for us and for this world.  “God calls a people to be the new thing in the world – the people of God…. "The dream of God is that all creation will live together in peace and harmony and fulfillment. All parts of creation. And the dream of God is that the good creation that God created – what the refrain says, 'and God saw that it was good' – be restored" (The Dream of God: A Call to Return Cowley Publications, 1991).  Dozier’s dream of God is simply another name for the kingdom of heaven or the kingdom of God.

But there can be times and places where the dream of God seems lost.  Thurman tells us that “Where there is no dream, the life becomes a swamp, a dreary dead place, and, deep within, the heart begins to rot.” Presiding Bishop Michael Curry calls that dreary dead place the nightmare of this world.  And it doesn’t take much looking around to see where the dream of God has been beaten back – or rather where humanity has turned its back on the dream.  At times the dream may seem lost.  At times it may seem that the silent indifference, or loud violence of this world, has succeeded in silencing it – but the dream of God will not – the dream of God cannot – be killed or die. 

The good news of the Transfiguration stories is that we can play a part in helping keep the dream of God alive, and we can help it thrive.  When we make a conscious decision to listen to Jesus as we meet him in the gospels, and in people of faith all around us, we find ourselves more than just worshipers of God in Christ.  We find that the dream of God has become our dream as well, as we live out our lives as followers of Jesus.  We begin to realize that as followers of Jesus we are called to be, as Verna Dozier describes it, “[citizens] of the kingdom of God in a new way, the daring, free, accepting, compassionate way Jesus modeled… being bound by no yesterday, fearing no tomorrow, drawing no lines between friend and foe, the acceptable ones and the outcasts” (ibid).

We begin to realize that as followers of Jesus we are called to be Apostles of Christ – acting out and proclaiming the love of God – not just in the easy places of the world and our lives, but in the hard places as well – the places where no one wants to see the light of Christ shining in the darkness.

The Transfiguration gives us a deepening glimpse into the unfolding kingdom of heaven and reminds us that God’s kingdom is at hand – that it has come among us – and that we are a part of it all.  All we have to do is listen.  Then follow.  Then be.