Last
Epiphany, Yr. C; Ex. 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-36
St.
Paul’s Smithfield, NC 2/7/2016
Jim
Melnyk: “Transformed by the Love of God”
Last Sunday I had the privilege of
attending my sixth annual Vestry Retreat with St. Paul’s – sixth! I came away with a deeper understanding of my
own faith journey and a deeper understanding of the faith held and shared by our
Vestry. We met with the Rev. Dr. Otis Hamm as our
facilitator, who led us in prayer and conversation about how experiencing and
sharing the incarnate love of God in our lives can be a way of enhancing our leadership
qualities. He also gave us homework to
work on both nights before we turned out our lights.
Some of what we listened to and
talked about felt comfortably familiar – especially because the idea of
incarnate love, and the love that God holds for each of us, was the theme from
Isaiah a couple of Sundays earlier in Epiphany.
Otis shared with us a quotation
from St. Augustine’s Confessions about
the allure of God’s love in Christ, part of which I’ve shared from this pulpit
before in years gone by. “How late I came to love you, O Beauty so ancient and so
fresh, how late I came to love you! You
called, you cried, you shattered my deafness.
You sparkled, you blazed, you drove away my blindness. You shed your fragrance, and I drew in my
breath and I pant for you. I tasted
and now I hunger and thirst. You
touched me, and now I burn with longing for your peace” (Quoted by Marcus
Borg, The God We Never Knew, page 47
– emphasis by Borg). Augustine
knew the compelling love of God in Christ and was overwhelmed by that love.
Our homework for one night, based on the words of St.
Augustine, was to imagine and write down a conversation between ourselves and
God about the last time we felt such intimate love with God, and I think that
exercise fits in neatly with the lessons on this last Sunday after The Epiphany
of our Lord.
I say this because the transfiguration of our Lord goes far
beyond what takes place on the mountain top with Peter, John, and James. In fact, as fantastical and as meaningful as
that moment of transfiguration is in all three of the synoptic Gospels, it
seems to have little or no impact on the three disciples until long after the crucifixion
and resurrection of Jesus. They don’t
seem to understand what’s going on during the experience, and we have no record
of them asking Jesus to explain it later.
None of them seem to say on Easter Day, “Oh, yeah, remember what
happened back there on that mountain!
Makes sense now – Jesus was giving us a resurrection preview!” Peter, for all his grand sermonizing reported
in Acts following Pentecost, never mentions it – unless one counts 2 Peter,
whose authorship is quite dubious. Luke,
for all that he has to say about the resurrection, all he has to say about the
coming of the Holy Spirit, and all he has to say about the birth of the Church,
never pulls the experience of the transfiguration forward for further comment: neither
in the post resurrection stories nor anywhere throughout the book of Acts.
The importance of The Transfiguration of Christ comes to us
much later – in the ways the Church later tied it to similar theophanies – or visual
manifestations of God – in the scriptures, and in how the Church seeks to
interpret the event in light of the Spirit’s work in the people of God and our
lives. Today’s lesson from Exodus, for
example, points to precisely the same sort of experience for Moses before God
on the mountain – perhaps even more so. In
the story about Moses on the mountain, the radiance of God is so overwhelming
that, unlike the disciples in our Gospel lesson, Moses’ appearance is permanently
changed – so changed that he has to where a veil to calm the people who are
fearful of his encounter with the Holy.
Brother James Koester of the
Society of St. John the Evangelist writes, “Our very first encounter with God That change continues today as
we are changed from one degree of glory to the next and our faces shine with
the splendor and glory of God” (Synthesis,
2/7/2016).
began the moment God conceived of us and in that moment we began to
change.
You, God,
you. “You called, you cried, you shattered my deafness. You sparkled, you blazed, you drove away my
blindness. You shed your fragrance, and
I drew in my breath and I pant for you.
I tasted and now I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and now I burn with
longing for your peace” (Augustine, again). All of which brings me back to my
homework during the Vestry Retreat.
“God,” I began, “The last time I
felt the way Augustine describes himself feeling happened while I was writing
the sermon on how Jesus is calling us to love.”
And God replied, “I remember
that. Why do you think you felt that way
Jim? I don’t think you started in that
place at the beginning.”
“No, you’re right about that. I was busy trying to make sense of the readings
and trying to listen for a sense of what we needed to hear in that moment – and
what you wanted us to hear…”
“So, Jim, the writing did it for
you, is that what you’re saying?”
“Not exactly, God. The writing started getting my brain and my
heart in sync, I guess. It got me
excited – somehow the words take on a life of their own at times – they connect
to the readings and they just seem to spill out on the page. I knew at that moment, in the depth of my
heart – just like Isaiah in the reading that morning and Augustine now, that I
am indeed precious in your sight and beloved.”
Looking back I realize that God and
I were talking about transfiguration – about how what happened to Jesus on the
mountain as he prepared to head toward Jerusalem wasn’t just about the promise
of God to transform the pain and ugliness of the cross through the resurrection
of Jesus from the dead, but to transform humanity as well – to transform me and
to transform you in the midst of our lives – making us ever more like the One
we follow, Jesus, and bringing to light in us, and through us, the image and
likeness of God which we all bear.
Brother Curtis Almquist of the SSJE
writes, “We remember the Transfiguration of Jesus… to
remind us all about our own transfiguration.
‘Christ lives within you.’ That is what we say. Today is also a reminder
about your own transfiguration. Claim the power, and then don’t hang onto it.
Let it flow. Let it go. The world is dying to know it (Brother Give Us a Word, Br. Curtis Almquist, 8/6/2012).
So, one question facing us might
be, “What is Christ dying to see happen within us and around us?” Another might be, “What is the world actually
dying to see in and from us?” God’s deep
love for each of us calls us forth into transfiguring light – calls us into awe
inspiring places of transformation that can indeed help change our world –
because we are created and called to be participants with Jesus in God’s
transfiguring love.
The story is told of someone who in deep despair cried out
to God, “Lord, why won’t you do something about the sorry state of this world –
the bickering, the hatred, the hungry children, and so many wounded hearts? Why don’t you do something, God?” “I have done something,” God replied firmly,
yet gently, “I created you.”
So, this morning I’m giving you some homework for the week –
and please, don’t say the dog ate it! I
hope everyone will give it a try. In
your bulletin, just below the sermon line, is the quote I’ve referenced from
St. Augustine. Please take your bulletin
home with you and spend a little time with the quote during the week. I am asking you to do the same homework Dr.
Hamm asked the Vestry to do during the retreat.
Journal a conversation with God concerning the last time you felt as St.
Augustine describes. If you’re not into
journaling, try drawing a picture – anything that helps you imagine a
conversation with God. If you have not
felt in such a way, speak with God about what can be done in your life to help
bring you to that same place as St. Augustine.
Another possible exercise would be to simply journal a conversation with
God about a time when you have experienced at least a hint of transfiguration
in your life, and ask how you can experience transfiguration more fully in your
life. And Vestry members – you’re not
off the hook – perhaps you’ve thought of more to say or ask, or listen for in
the past week.
You, God you! “You called, you cried, you
shattered my deafness. You sparkled, you
blazed, you drove away my blindness. You
shed your fragrance, and I drew in my breath and I pant for you. I tasted and now I hunger and
thirst. You touched me, and now I
burn with longing for your peace” (Augustine, again).
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