Epiphany-Last; Matthew17:1-9;
St. Paul’s, 2/23/2020
Jim Melnyk: “With Bold
Vulnerability”
The Season of Epiphany is often called the season of Light. Depending
on when Easter falls on the calendar, each year we spend a varying number of
Sundays considering how the light of Christ is made manifest to the world. The
season itself is book-ended with fantastic stories of light. Each year we begin
the season with words from John’s Christmas Gospel echoing in our ears: “The
true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.[1]” We
end the season with yet another glimpse of the true light from God: “Six days
later [that is, after the confession of Peter that Jesus is the Christ of God],
Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high
mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face
shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.”[2]
John’s theology of the “true light” from God had not yet
been written down when Jesus and his inner circle of companions went up that
“high mountain, by themselves.” And perhaps this event – what has come to be
called the Transfiguration of Jesus – is part of what feeds the early church’s
understanding of Jesus as the “true light…coming into the world.” Because when
you think of it, whatever it was that happened to Jesus and his friends on that
mountain top certainly stuck with his followers – certainly made some
impression on them.
Can’t you almost hear Peter, James and John, having been to
the mountain top with Jesus, humming some sort of first century equivalent of “We
are the champions, my friends”? As mystifying and terrifying as the whole thing
seems to them, they know something fantastic has unfolded in their midst, and
they will remember this moment for the rest of their lives.
And then Jesus pulls them back to earth. “Tell know one
about what you’ve seen – tell no one, until the Son of Man is raised from the
dead. Suddenly, the voice from heaven, “This is my Beloved. Listen to him!” and
Jesus’ words six days earlier in Caesarea Philippi, that the Messiah would
undergo suffering and crucifixion come back to mind, and the cross and all its
brutal reality stands directly in front of them all. Perhaps the mountain top
Theophany – that's a fancy theological word for an experience of the holy – is
what is necessary to give Jesus’ followers the strength they will need to carry
on when their world collapses and they finally face their own crosses. As one
theologian puts it, the Transfiguration allows epiphany – the manifestation of
Christ to the world – to become a way of life.
It
all seems so strange to the disciples. A crucified Messiah, or humanity’s
willingness to enter into the suffering of this world as a way of liberating
the oppressed, just wasn’t a part of the common theology being studied in
Jerusalem’s finest schools in the first century. If you'll pardon the cliché,
Jesus is thinking way outside the box on this one – and those following his
rising star aren’t sure how to take it. They were hoping for someone who might
clean up the neighborhood, so to speak. They were hoping for someone to kick
Rome out of town and set things right – to reestablish David’s throne – or
renew a great high priesthood and set things in order.
The
Cross just doesn’t fit those perspectives, so Jesus offers some sort of
reassurance for the disciples – something that will later help them realize the
bone-shattering reality of crucifixion doesn’t have to be the end of all
they’ve worked and prayed for as they followed this Jesus of Nazareth –
something that will help them understand that violence won’t bring about –
can't ever bring about – the hope of Israel or the hope and dream of God. This
brief glimpse of transformation life says that even the horrible agony of the
Cross will not be able to stop the power of God from changing the world!
This
experience on the mountain top is meant to remind us that Transfiguration life
– that resurrection life – begins now, as we struggle with God’s help to live
out our baptismal calling to be children of God in a broken and confused world.
The story of the Transfiguration reminds us of our call to be God’s presence in
a world blinded to the light of God’s love – fearful of what that light might
reveal. And such a calling by God reminds us that the cross isn’t always so
metaphorical when we proclaim a love of God that goes beyond the trite and
polite niceties the world would have us proclaim in the name of God. The
Transfiguration is meant to strengthen us as we learn how to manifest God’s
compassion in the world – as we learn to offer ourselves with the bold
vulnerability of God in Christ.
But
most human beings, I suspect, really want a “Footprints in the Sand” Savior
rather than a “Let’s Jump Start the World” Savior. You know the kind in
greeting card and poster lore – someone who carries us along at our worst
moments in life – during the deepest trials – someone to comfort us when the
world caves in all around us, and the ground shakes, and the demons roar – and
that’s important stuff as we struggle with life and faith – perhaps even
life-saving stuff! But in Jesus, God gives us all that – and so much more!
In
Jesus God brings us comforting love and strengthening grace. In our darkest
moments of anxiety or fear, Jesus touches us gently saying, “Get up and do not
be afraid. There is kingdom work to be done.” As it’s been said, “God does not
comfort us to make us comfortable. Rather, God comforts us to make us
comforters.”[3] Peter,
James, and John come to find out that mountain tops are something we come down
from – to find ourselves back in the chaos of the world around us. Just like
Church is a reality from which we are sent out into the world each week.
Along
with comfort and grace Jesus brings us vision and authority. When the world
stops caving in around us – and we’ve shaken the dust off our clothes and
finally caught our breath – God sends us out – sends us out with authority into
the world as Transfigured People – as people transformed into the likeness of
Christ – to be “holy comforters” for the people of God whose lives are still
slipping into the world’s sewer system. It’s a hard calling to follow – and
sometimes, like it did for Peter, James, and John, it takes a glimpse of the
Risen Christ in all God’s glory to help keep us on track.
And so “We remember the Transfiguration of Jesus today to
remind us all about our own transfiguration. ‘Christ lives within you.’ That is
what we say…. [We need to] claim the power, and then [not] hang onto it. [Rather,
we are to] let it flow. Let it go. [Because] the world is dying to know it.”[4]
On
this Last Sunday in Epiphany, we walk with Jesus, Peter, James, and John up a
high mountain, hopefully wanting to somehow be touched by the life of Jesus –
that true light that enters the world. Our transfiguration begins now – Our
transfiguration begins today – in this place and in each of our lives. And it is
an incredibly awesome thing to be called to this Transfiguration Life. The
question is, how will we chose to live out this life?
[1] John 1:9,
14
[2] Matthew
17:1-2
[3] J.H.
Jowett, Synthesis
[4] Br.
Curtis Almquist, SSJE. Brother, Give Us a Word
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