As a child, growing up on the farm in Saskatchewan, the water we drank did not come from the tap. It was good enough for washing and cleaning, but not clean enough to drink. We got our drinking water from an underground spring, drawn from a well. The well was about a hundred yards north of the house, and usually once a day, Mom or Dad or one of us as me and my sisters grew older and stronger, carried an empty water pail to the well, pumped it full from an old iron pump, and carried the clear, fresh water back to the house for the family to drink.
It was a trip made almost every day. So often that there was a dirt path to the well pounded nearly as hard as concrete. Because every day, one, two or three sets of feet pounded over it.
One spring, my second and younger sister, a little girl at the time, was given some sunflower seeds which she was determined to plant. You know where she planted them. She planted them where we told her they had no chance of growing. She planted them where we told her that work boots, rubber boots, and running shoes would trample them every day. She planted them in ground we told her was too hard and too packed to be of any use. She planted them on the path from the house to the well. And about three weeks later, you know what the rest of us did for the rest of that spring, summer and fall. We walked around her confounded sunflower which grew up strong and tall right in the middle of that rock hard path to the drinking water well.
Bishop Tom Wright says that listening to the New Testament is like listening to the harmony of a song. He uses an interesting example. Have you ever played the game where you hum the melody of a song, and a friend tries to guess the name of the song? Or have you ever tried humming - not the melody - but the bass part, or the tenor’s part, or the alto’s part, and tried to guess the name of the song?
The good news of Jesus Christ is like the melody of the song we sing, but there are several parts that we must hear, before we can hear it fully and understand it well.
For Christians, the melody line is Jesus Christ - his life, teaching, healing, suffering, death and resurrection. And even on its own, it is pretty good music. The sweet song of God’s Son, who lived simply without even a pillow for his head. Who taught the word of the Lord to common people. Who gave sight back to the blind. Who offered friendship and mercy to the used and abused.
It is a pretty sweet song.
But like a great church bell, tolling in the background, this glorious song has ever so much more to offer when we listen to its bass part in the Old Testament.
This is what Bishop Wright emphasizes as we read this passage from Romans, chapter five. But let me tease you now. He ends by reminding us of a surprising part in the middle this song is intended to sound.
This passage describes two imbalances. First, and as it is put in verse 15, grace is not like sin. Sin brings death. There’s no surprise. That’s what sin does.
But grace brings life, and it does so even in those circumstances where death appears to reign.
When a ninety-nine year old man and a hundred year old woman - tired out, worn out and barren - are given the promise of a child through whom the mercy of God will wash over the world - what chance is there?
When a beaten up band of slaves are chased by the best army in Egypt to the edge of a broiling sea - and promised to get through that Red Sea and turned into God’s people out in a desolate wilderness - what chance is there?
When a people are crushed and humiliated and taken from the promised land into exile in a foreign land, with the promise that they will be restored, and God will keep the promises he makes - what chance is there?
And when the Messiah promises to lead his followers to glory, over the trampled path that heads straight to the cross on Golgotha - what chance is there?
But grace brings life. And it brings it where all hope seems lost. It brings it where death reigns.
The grace of God, says Bishop Wright, “is nothing short of new creation, creation not merely out of nothing but out of . . . death itself.” ("Romans", Interpreter’s Bible, 2002, p. 528).
Which is related to the second imbalance Paul describes.
That is, plainly and explicitly, grace does what it does after many trespasses. Adam’s sin, and the human rebellion and strife which followed, has been with us since the beginning of time. But the grace of God, revealed to us uniquely in Jesus Christ, came after many trespasses, after the soil of the human heart had been trampled on and beaten down many times, over countless generations. But just as the hand of God can put dead Lazarus back on his feet, the grace of God in Jesus Christ can put a new heart in our chests.
So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! (2 Co 5:17)
Hopelessness is a terrible thing. And there are times when we become hopeless. When we have been hurt, betrayed and disappointed. When we have hurt, betrayed and disappointed - and done it more than once - to ourselves, our loved ones, our Creator. And the question sneaks in. What hope is there for me? No doubt there’s hope for the good ones, the strong ones and the brave ones. But what hope is there for me?
But Jesus Christ loved the trampled ones, like the woman who bathed his feet in luxurious oil. Jesus Christ loved the weak ones, like the sick man lowered from the roof by his desperate friends. Jesus Christ loved the crooked ones, like Peter who broke his solemn vow.
This is the grace that enters the scene and does its work after many trespasses. This is the grace that bursts through the hard and trampled terrain of our hearts and of our world.
And finally, let me note for you one unexpected contrast.
In verse 17, Paul describes the reign of sin, the power of death in our world caused by human sinfulness and rebellion. And he begins there in order to point to the new thing that has come into being which outweighs and overpowers sin and death. What do you think that new thing is? What do you think that new power is?
The obvious answer would be the power of God and the reign of Christ. That, we would guess, is what offsets the power and reign of sin. But if you can hear the tolling of the Old Testament, you might guess what Paul actually says. The new thing God has created is the new thing God has been intent on from the time he made a promise to Abraham. ‘I will make you a holy people a nation of priests and you shall be a blessing to all nations.”
As Paul puts it here, how “much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace [reign] in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.” (Ro 5:17) God’s solution is a people.
But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. (1 Pe 2:9)
And that part, says Bishop Wright, is our part in the sweet song of grace. Our part here in the worship of God, joined with brothers and sisters by grace, experiencing God’s peace now, looking forward to God’s peace in all the world, receiving by word and sacrament the nourishment we need and the hope that God offers to break through trampled ground.
Our part in the serious study of the Scriptures and the faith passed down to us. God is renewing the world. God is restoring all creation. And it is in the whole counsel of Scripture that we hear all of the sweet song of grace.
And our part in service with the mighty and surprising power at work in Jesus Christ, which lifted him out of the grave and vindicated him before all the world - the power at our disposal - to serve, to heal, to bring peace and to restore.
Do you want to sing your part?
Of the one who favored a beaten people, who took them from slavery, and in the purifying
wilderness made them to stand erect (Lev. 26.13).
Do you want to sing your part?
Of the one who reached out - to the woman with the issue of blood, to the lepers outside the city gates, to the dying criminal pleading at his side.
Do you want to sing your part?
Of the new creation God is making out of old souls, and trampled hearts and dry bones.
For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light— (Eph 5:8)
This is the sweet song of grace:
. . . the melody of Jesus Christ that reached out and touched us;
. . . the bass line of God’s purposes from the time of creation, intent on the redemption of the world through the creation of a redeemed people;
. . . and our part, new creatures by God’s grace, given the strength of Jesus Christ himself to heal, to serve and to restore, and the hopeful song of all creation’s redemption on our lips.
Do you want to sing your part in the sweet song of grace? As we begin our Lenten journey, let us offer our hearts and lives for that very thing. Amen.
Sermons & Notes
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Live in Joy - December 30, 2007 - Fr. Dean Mercer
sermon: Live In Joy
St. Paul's L'Amoreaux, December 30, 2007
After my grandfather retired from working in his autobody shop in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, he took up a number of hobbies - picture framing, rock collecting and polishing, and, a little later, the construction of grandfather clocks. Among the many tools that my grandfather had downstairs in his workshop was a little wood lathe.
Well, one time I wanted to make a candlestick. Grandpa and I found a piece of wood, fastened it to the plate of the lathe, and then turned on the motor and began to carve.
At first the piece was rough and of an uneven shape. But gradually, as the sawdust sprayed up and around us, we were able to round off this rough old piece of wood and begin developing the shape we wanted. Once the general shape was reached, different tools, and even files and sandpaper were applied to make it shiny and smooth.
It was exhilarating to watch. First, we carved out a cone at the top to hold the candle, then a long, narrow stem. Then that was widened out at the bottom into a smooth base.
However, when we had almost completed the entire candlestick, I chipped the base. Either I had tried to carve too deeply, or it chipped when we tried to saw it off from the stock of wood.
It was very disappointing. I wanted to try and glue the broken piece back on, or just leave it as it was, because it had taken so long, and so much work. But my grandfather insisted on something else.
He took the candle-stick which I had broken and cut the base right off. Then he found another piece of wood of a completely different kind but with markings which matched the broken piece. He applied glue, clamped the two pieces together and told me to come back in a couple days. When I returned, we fastened the repaired wood to the lathe and began again. The outcome was more spectacular than the original. In fact, the two different pieces came to look as if they were one, with a lovely colour and design.
The tension at Christmas, in light of the great darkness that we experience in the world, begins with the fact that so much of Christmas is achingly beautiful:
. . . the Magi moving solemnly toward Bethlehem under the guidance of a brilliant star;
. . . the deep and majestic rhythm in the background as the history of Israel itself is remembered - a Son of David, promised by the prophets, enroute in and out of Egypt;
. . . and the discovery of a child, before whom, in great joy, the travellers would bow.
In his Christmas address, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams[1], reminded us of the poetry of St. John of the Cross. St. John of the Cross is best known for his description of hard times in discipleship and his description of the 'dark night of the soul'. But he also composed a series of poems on the topic of Christmas joy.
In them, St. John imagines the happiness of the persons of the Trinity bubbling over in the loving desire to extend the joy they experience to others who would know it and respond in kind. If you can imagine the three persons of the Trinity, God is seeking to create a bride for his Son. And so God does so by creating humanity and the world, with all its beauty and variety. And that world waits. Waits for the coming of the groom. Waits to be reunited. And when the groom finally arrives on Christmas, tears pour out.
The Archbishop notices two things.
First, the tears are tears of joy - first and foremost, because God came into the world not to save, but to be united with creatures who love and share his joy. As he puts it:
We are right to think about the seriousness of sin . . . but we see it properly and in perspective only when we have our eyes firmly on the greatness and unchanging purpose of God=s eternal plan for the marriage of heaven and earth.
It is a perspective that is necessary when our own sins or those of a failing and suffering world fill the horizon for us, so that we can hardly believe the situation can be transformed.
For if God's purpose is what it is, and if God has the power and freedom to enter our world and meet us face to face, there is nothing that can destroy that initial divine vision of what the world is for and what we human beings are for.
Nothing changes, however far we fall; if we decide to settle down with our failures and give way to cynicism and despair, that is indeed dreadful ‑ but God remains the same God who has decided that the world should exist so that it may enter into his joy.
Secondly, the variety of the world, its great vistas and its narrow ledges, what St. John of the Cross called the 'composed world of infinite differences', is deliberate. Or, as the Archbishop puts it more simply, God has made this world as it is for us to grow and mature and become more like what God intends. And before all else, this varied world, and the infinitely mysterious people we come upon, should summon from us reverence and thanksgiving.
There is a great scene in the third volume of The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien - and it is almost completely missing from the movie. After all their adventures and the danger they faced, the little hobbits can finally come home. But upon arriving home, their land is still dominated by gangsters who were part of the reason they had originally been sent out on their great mission. But, now, in comparison to all they had just come through, it was relatively easy work to face the bullies and bring the same peace to the shire that was now extending throughout the land.
Returning home, the hobbits are different. They are mature, brave and strong in ways they had never been before.
Why is the world the way it is? To begin with, and simply, that is for God. And we would have to be greater and wiser than God to propose a different one. But what we know in this world of both tears and beauty, is that the pieces and the people are intended to come together. And in that great movement, the world is the place where we become what God intends. As Archbishop Williams puts it:
The whole point of creation is that there should be persons, made up of spirit and body, in God's image and likeness, to use the language of Genesis and of the New Testament, who are capable of intimacy with God ‑ not so that God can gain something but so that these created beings may live in joy.
And Gods way of making sure that this joy is fully available is to join humanity on earth so that human beings may recognise what they are and what they are for.
On this day, as we celebrate the baptism of Nyree, we can think of the challenges and the difficulties and the dangers ahead. But let us begin with - and may we never forget - the beauty of this little child and her life, the shards of glory in our world which surround us all, and God's overflowing joy into which he desires us to enter and share.
[1]www.anglicancommunion.org/acns/news.cfm/2007/12/25/ACNS4357.
St. Paul's L'Amoreaux, December 30, 2007
After my grandfather retired from working in his autobody shop in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, he took up a number of hobbies - picture framing, rock collecting and polishing, and, a little later, the construction of grandfather clocks. Among the many tools that my grandfather had downstairs in his workshop was a little wood lathe.
Well, one time I wanted to make a candlestick. Grandpa and I found a piece of wood, fastened it to the plate of the lathe, and then turned on the motor and began to carve.
At first the piece was rough and of an uneven shape. But gradually, as the sawdust sprayed up and around us, we were able to round off this rough old piece of wood and begin developing the shape we wanted. Once the general shape was reached, different tools, and even files and sandpaper were applied to make it shiny and smooth.
It was exhilarating to watch. First, we carved out a cone at the top to hold the candle, then a long, narrow stem. Then that was widened out at the bottom into a smooth base.
However, when we had almost completed the entire candlestick, I chipped the base. Either I had tried to carve too deeply, or it chipped when we tried to saw it off from the stock of wood.
It was very disappointing. I wanted to try and glue the broken piece back on, or just leave it as it was, because it had taken so long, and so much work. But my grandfather insisted on something else.
He took the candle-stick which I had broken and cut the base right off. Then he found another piece of wood of a completely different kind but with markings which matched the broken piece. He applied glue, clamped the two pieces together and told me to come back in a couple days. When I returned, we fastened the repaired wood to the lathe and began again. The outcome was more spectacular than the original. In fact, the two different pieces came to look as if they were one, with a lovely colour and design.
The tension at Christmas, in light of the great darkness that we experience in the world, begins with the fact that so much of Christmas is achingly beautiful:
. . . the Magi moving solemnly toward Bethlehem under the guidance of a brilliant star;
. . . the deep and majestic rhythm in the background as the history of Israel itself is remembered - a Son of David, promised by the prophets, enroute in and out of Egypt;
. . . and the discovery of a child, before whom, in great joy, the travellers would bow.
In his Christmas address, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams[1], reminded us of the poetry of St. John of the Cross. St. John of the Cross is best known for his description of hard times in discipleship and his description of the 'dark night of the soul'. But he also composed a series of poems on the topic of Christmas joy.
In them, St. John imagines the happiness of the persons of the Trinity bubbling over in the loving desire to extend the joy they experience to others who would know it and respond in kind. If you can imagine the three persons of the Trinity, God is seeking to create a bride for his Son. And so God does so by creating humanity and the world, with all its beauty and variety. And that world waits. Waits for the coming of the groom. Waits to be reunited. And when the groom finally arrives on Christmas, tears pour out.
The Archbishop notices two things.
First, the tears are tears of joy - first and foremost, because God came into the world not to save, but to be united with creatures who love and share his joy. As he puts it:
We are right to think about the seriousness of sin . . . but we see it properly and in perspective only when we have our eyes firmly on the greatness and unchanging purpose of God=s eternal plan for the marriage of heaven and earth.
It is a perspective that is necessary when our own sins or those of a failing and suffering world fill the horizon for us, so that we can hardly believe the situation can be transformed.
For if God's purpose is what it is, and if God has the power and freedom to enter our world and meet us face to face, there is nothing that can destroy that initial divine vision of what the world is for and what we human beings are for.
Nothing changes, however far we fall; if we decide to settle down with our failures and give way to cynicism and despair, that is indeed dreadful ‑ but God remains the same God who has decided that the world should exist so that it may enter into his joy.
Secondly, the variety of the world, its great vistas and its narrow ledges, what St. John of the Cross called the 'composed world of infinite differences', is deliberate. Or, as the Archbishop puts it more simply, God has made this world as it is for us to grow and mature and become more like what God intends. And before all else, this varied world, and the infinitely mysterious people we come upon, should summon from us reverence and thanksgiving.
There is a great scene in the third volume of The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien - and it is almost completely missing from the movie. After all their adventures and the danger they faced, the little hobbits can finally come home. But upon arriving home, their land is still dominated by gangsters who were part of the reason they had originally been sent out on their great mission. But, now, in comparison to all they had just come through, it was relatively easy work to face the bullies and bring the same peace to the shire that was now extending throughout the land.
Returning home, the hobbits are different. They are mature, brave and strong in ways they had never been before.
Why is the world the way it is? To begin with, and simply, that is for God. And we would have to be greater and wiser than God to propose a different one. But what we know in this world of both tears and beauty, is that the pieces and the people are intended to come together. And in that great movement, the world is the place where we become what God intends. As Archbishop Williams puts it:
The whole point of creation is that there should be persons, made up of spirit and body, in God's image and likeness, to use the language of Genesis and of the New Testament, who are capable of intimacy with God ‑ not so that God can gain something but so that these created beings may live in joy.
And Gods way of making sure that this joy is fully available is to join humanity on earth so that human beings may recognise what they are and what they are for.
On this day, as we celebrate the baptism of Nyree, we can think of the challenges and the difficulties and the dangers ahead. But let us begin with - and may we never forget - the beauty of this little child and her life, the shards of glory in our world which surround us all, and God's overflowing joy into which he desires us to enter and share.
[1]www.anglicancommunion.org/acns/news.cfm/2007/12/25/ACNS4357.
Sermon: Transformation, Timing & Triump - by David Puttock, Layreader
February 3, 2008, Last Sunday after Epiphany (Year A), Matthew 17:1-9
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)
I wonder how many of you ever watched “Sesame Street” – perhaps with your children or your grandchildren. If you did, then you’ll understand me when I announce that today’s homily is brought to you by the letter “T”. Certainly the central theme of today’s Gospel reading is the “T” word - Transfiguration. But I also propose to you three more “T” words that help us to understand today’s message. They are Transformation - Timing - and Triumph.
Let us start with Transformation. The words transformation and transfiguration are closely related. The word translated here as “transfigured” is in the Greek text “metemorphothe” – from which we get the word “metamorphosis”. But, when used elsewhere in the New Testament, the word is usually translated as “transformed”. And I feel the word “transformation” helps us to better understand the message.
But let us start with the Transfiguration of Jesus. It is a totally mysterious and unique event. What is happening here ? How do we comprehend it ?
The narrative is quite straightforward. Jesus goes up on the mountain with three of his disciples, Peter, James and John. Six days before, in a crucial moment of revelation, Peter has declared Jesus to be the Messiah (Matthew 16:16). Now on the mountain top Peter’s declaration is confirmed in that Jesus is glorified as the Messiah by God the Father. His face is suddenly illuminated like the sun. His clothes become dazzling white. To the disciples, his form and countenance are transformed from human to divine. This brilliance is not a reflection of his Father’s glory. It is authentically his own. The whiteness of his clothes suggests the robes of the Great High Priest. Then in a spell-binding scene that brings together the major elements of God’s covenant with his people, we glimpse the coming together of the Word (who is Jesus), the Law (which is represented by Moses) and the Prophets (represented by the great prophet, Elijah). Hereupon, Peter speaks some very Peter-like comments. And then a bright cloud overshadows the scene and the voice of God is heard in awesome affirmation of Jesus and his ministry. At this the disciples fall to the ground in fear. Jesus helps them to their feet with words of re-assurance. By then everyone has gone and the event is over.
Whenever we read scripture, we also search for meaning. How does the transfiguration event apply to us in our daily lives ? What is to be our “transfiguration” experience ? Searching for an answer takes us to those other places in the New Testament where the word is used. For example, Paul writes to the Romans (12:2): “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” In other words, pursue a life that is set apart from the ways of the world. This is a life that is focused on worship and prayer, study and service; a life that shows to others an example of Christ-like living. And the more we practise these things, the more we may be able to say with confidence what Paul writes to the Corinthians (2 Corinthians 3:18). “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” So, then, what are we being transformed into ? What are we becoming ? Quite simply, we are being transformed into the likeness of Christ. That is our transformation.
Now for the second “T” word – Timing.
The Rev. Bryan Findlayson, a priest in the Anglican Church of Australia, and founder of a useful teaching resource called Pumpkin Cottage Publications, has described the transfiguration as “a momentary taste of future glory in the sea of struggle.” The key word is “momentary”. It is a moment in time.
The timing of the transfiguration is critical for Jesus. It comes at a crucial moment in his ministry. The stunning illumination of his presence and the affirmation of his divinity through the voice of His Father prepare Jesus for the final journey to Jerusalem. Jesus has to go down the mountain and take a difficult road. It will be a road of ups and downs. At first the path will be lined by adoring supporters but they will eventually end up siding with Jesus’s detractors and enemies. It will be a road strewn with palm leaves but the cries of “Hosanna !” will prove to be hollow. Ultimately the road leads up to another hill, to a place called Calvary, to a place of suffering, humiliation and death on the Cross. We will come to that place later.
The timing is important because this experience is intended to equip Jesus with the strength and affirmation and encouragement to go on with his ministry to its conclusion. It is, as it were, God’s seal of approval. In God’s timing the transfiguration experience is necessary and it is precisely at this point in time that it is necessary.
On the other hand, the timing does not work out so well for Peter. He wants to stay on the mountain top. He feels exhilarated to be there with Jesus and Elijah and Moses. He wants to build little huts for them so that they can all live there together happily ever after. But Peter’s timing is all wrong. This is not what God intends. This is not God’s timing. Worse yet he dares to imagine that the Son of God and Moses and Elijah could be confined to ramshackle man-made dwellings. It is not meant to be. No wonder that Peter’s wishful thinking is very abruptly cut short by the voice of God with His booming commandment: “Listen to Him !”.
Poor Peter ! Ultimately he too has to go down the mountain. He still has a very long and hard road to travel. Peter also will suffer many things and eventually die for his faith before he ever tastes this kind of glory again.
So it is with us and our mountain-top experiences. They cannot last for ever. We may try to stop the hands of time in the hope of capturing moments of euphoria. But this is in vain, because time marches on. Eventually we too have to go down the mountain and face the frustrations and squabbling and pettiness of everyday life. Again, to quote Bryan Findlayson,
“We must travel the narrow way in Christ, move through struggle to eternity . . .
The struggle is the struggle of life. It is not the journey of high-minded self-imposed asceticism - rather it is the tedious, frustrating, lonely, questioning, doubting, quietly desperate . . . business of life. This is the journey we undertake to reach glory, a journey shaped by the Word of God and all the time agitated by it. There is no short-cut.”
We have to move on from the “momentary taste of future glory” to that “sea of struggle”.
They say timing is everything. Yes, God’s timing is everything - our timing isn’t.
And so we come to the third “T” word. This is Triumph.
Note that we began this season of Epiphany with the light of a star that reveals the coming of Jesus into this world. On this last Sunday after Epiphany we read about the brilliant light transfiguring the form of Jesus and revealing him as the Son of God. Both are examples of how God breaks into our world through Jesus Christ. These are examples of the triumph of the glory of God.
There is no doubt about it. The whole transfiguration event is simply permeated with an air of triumph. The brilliance of light ! The coming together of the Law and the Prophets with the Word. The authoritative voice of God. What a spectacle ! What majesty ! Shock and awe, we might say today ! All around lies a comforting assurance that God is in control and all is right with the universe. As for the bothersome world below, it seems non-existent ! Yes, for a time, a palpable sense of triumph rules over this mountain top scene.
But there is a different kind of triumph to come. A more sombre triumph won at great cost. For a while my mind wandered to another mountain where Jesus goes with his disciples - to the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane. There too he calls out his three favoured disciples, Peter, James and John, to come forward and keep watch with him a while - which they did not do !! Funny, isn’t it, how Peter says nothing about wanting to stay and build huts there !! Well, the contrast between the Mount of Transfiguration and the Mount of Olives is interesting but I missed the most obvious contrast.
So here I acknowledge Bishop Tom Wright, in his commentary “Matthew for Everyone”, who takes this idea a giant step further and delivers a contrast that packs a truly powerful effect. Consider this !
“The scene at the Transfiguration offers a strange parallel and contrast with the crucifixion. Here, on the mountain, Jesus is revealed in glory – at Calvary, he is revealed in shame. Here, his clothes are shining white – at Calvary, his clothes are stripped from him and soldiers gamble for them. Here, he is flanked by Moses and Elijah, two of Israel’s greatest heroes, representing the Law and the Prophets – at Calvary, he is flanked by two criminals, representing the depth to which Israel had sunk in rebellion against God. Here, a bright cloud overshadows the scene – at Calvary, darkness falls upon the land. Here, Peter blurts out how good it all is – at Calvary, he is nowhere to be seen for he is hiding in shame after denying he even knows Jesus. Here, the voice of God Himself affirms his Son with love and joy - at Calvary, it is left to a pagan soldier to declare: ‘Truly, this man was the Son of God !’ ”
Both events - the transfiguration and the crucifixion - are examples of triumph. We have to recognize the glory of God through Jesus Christ in both these events. It is easy to see the triumph in Jesus, illuminated in divine radiance and splendour on the Mount of Transfiguration. It is harder to see the triumph in Jesus, broken and despised on the Cross at Calvary. Yet by his death Jesus bore the full weight of our sins and he triumphed over sin and death itself. On the cross the power of sin is broken. And we are set free !
So to conclude – the triumph of Jesus’s life and death inspires us to seek transformation into his likeness – and all in accordance with God’s plan and timing.
Transformation – Timing – Triumph: these are the three “T” words that help us understand the meaning of the Transfiguration.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)
I wonder how many of you ever watched “Sesame Street” – perhaps with your children or your grandchildren. If you did, then you’ll understand me when I announce that today’s homily is brought to you by the letter “T”. Certainly the central theme of today’s Gospel reading is the “T” word - Transfiguration. But I also propose to you three more “T” words that help us to understand today’s message. They are Transformation - Timing - and Triumph.
Let us start with Transformation. The words transformation and transfiguration are closely related. The word translated here as “transfigured” is in the Greek text “metemorphothe” – from which we get the word “metamorphosis”. But, when used elsewhere in the New Testament, the word is usually translated as “transformed”. And I feel the word “transformation” helps us to better understand the message.
But let us start with the Transfiguration of Jesus. It is a totally mysterious and unique event. What is happening here ? How do we comprehend it ?
The narrative is quite straightforward. Jesus goes up on the mountain with three of his disciples, Peter, James and John. Six days before, in a crucial moment of revelation, Peter has declared Jesus to be the Messiah (Matthew 16:16). Now on the mountain top Peter’s declaration is confirmed in that Jesus is glorified as the Messiah by God the Father. His face is suddenly illuminated like the sun. His clothes become dazzling white. To the disciples, his form and countenance are transformed from human to divine. This brilliance is not a reflection of his Father’s glory. It is authentically his own. The whiteness of his clothes suggests the robes of the Great High Priest. Then in a spell-binding scene that brings together the major elements of God’s covenant with his people, we glimpse the coming together of the Word (who is Jesus), the Law (which is represented by Moses) and the Prophets (represented by the great prophet, Elijah). Hereupon, Peter speaks some very Peter-like comments. And then a bright cloud overshadows the scene and the voice of God is heard in awesome affirmation of Jesus and his ministry. At this the disciples fall to the ground in fear. Jesus helps them to their feet with words of re-assurance. By then everyone has gone and the event is over.
Whenever we read scripture, we also search for meaning. How does the transfiguration event apply to us in our daily lives ? What is to be our “transfiguration” experience ? Searching for an answer takes us to those other places in the New Testament where the word is used. For example, Paul writes to the Romans (12:2): “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” In other words, pursue a life that is set apart from the ways of the world. This is a life that is focused on worship and prayer, study and service; a life that shows to others an example of Christ-like living. And the more we practise these things, the more we may be able to say with confidence what Paul writes to the Corinthians (2 Corinthians 3:18). “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” So, then, what are we being transformed into ? What are we becoming ? Quite simply, we are being transformed into the likeness of Christ. That is our transformation.
Now for the second “T” word – Timing.
The Rev. Bryan Findlayson, a priest in the Anglican Church of Australia, and founder of a useful teaching resource called Pumpkin Cottage Publications, has described the transfiguration as “a momentary taste of future glory in the sea of struggle.” The key word is “momentary”. It is a moment in time.
The timing of the transfiguration is critical for Jesus. It comes at a crucial moment in his ministry. The stunning illumination of his presence and the affirmation of his divinity through the voice of His Father prepare Jesus for the final journey to Jerusalem. Jesus has to go down the mountain and take a difficult road. It will be a road of ups and downs. At first the path will be lined by adoring supporters but they will eventually end up siding with Jesus’s detractors and enemies. It will be a road strewn with palm leaves but the cries of “Hosanna !” will prove to be hollow. Ultimately the road leads up to another hill, to a place called Calvary, to a place of suffering, humiliation and death on the Cross. We will come to that place later.
The timing is important because this experience is intended to equip Jesus with the strength and affirmation and encouragement to go on with his ministry to its conclusion. It is, as it were, God’s seal of approval. In God’s timing the transfiguration experience is necessary and it is precisely at this point in time that it is necessary.
On the other hand, the timing does not work out so well for Peter. He wants to stay on the mountain top. He feels exhilarated to be there with Jesus and Elijah and Moses. He wants to build little huts for them so that they can all live there together happily ever after. But Peter’s timing is all wrong. This is not what God intends. This is not God’s timing. Worse yet he dares to imagine that the Son of God and Moses and Elijah could be confined to ramshackle man-made dwellings. It is not meant to be. No wonder that Peter’s wishful thinking is very abruptly cut short by the voice of God with His booming commandment: “Listen to Him !”.
Poor Peter ! Ultimately he too has to go down the mountain. He still has a very long and hard road to travel. Peter also will suffer many things and eventually die for his faith before he ever tastes this kind of glory again.
So it is with us and our mountain-top experiences. They cannot last for ever. We may try to stop the hands of time in the hope of capturing moments of euphoria. But this is in vain, because time marches on. Eventually we too have to go down the mountain and face the frustrations and squabbling and pettiness of everyday life. Again, to quote Bryan Findlayson,
“We must travel the narrow way in Christ, move through struggle to eternity . . .
The struggle is the struggle of life. It is not the journey of high-minded self-imposed asceticism - rather it is the tedious, frustrating, lonely, questioning, doubting, quietly desperate . . . business of life. This is the journey we undertake to reach glory, a journey shaped by the Word of God and all the time agitated by it. There is no short-cut.”
We have to move on from the “momentary taste of future glory” to that “sea of struggle”.
They say timing is everything. Yes, God’s timing is everything - our timing isn’t.
And so we come to the third “T” word. This is Triumph.
Note that we began this season of Epiphany with the light of a star that reveals the coming of Jesus into this world. On this last Sunday after Epiphany we read about the brilliant light transfiguring the form of Jesus and revealing him as the Son of God. Both are examples of how God breaks into our world through Jesus Christ. These are examples of the triumph of the glory of God.
There is no doubt about it. The whole transfiguration event is simply permeated with an air of triumph. The brilliance of light ! The coming together of the Law and the Prophets with the Word. The authoritative voice of God. What a spectacle ! What majesty ! Shock and awe, we might say today ! All around lies a comforting assurance that God is in control and all is right with the universe. As for the bothersome world below, it seems non-existent ! Yes, for a time, a palpable sense of triumph rules over this mountain top scene.
But there is a different kind of triumph to come. A more sombre triumph won at great cost. For a while my mind wandered to another mountain where Jesus goes with his disciples - to the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane. There too he calls out his three favoured disciples, Peter, James and John, to come forward and keep watch with him a while - which they did not do !! Funny, isn’t it, how Peter says nothing about wanting to stay and build huts there !! Well, the contrast between the Mount of Transfiguration and the Mount of Olives is interesting but I missed the most obvious contrast.
So here I acknowledge Bishop Tom Wright, in his commentary “Matthew for Everyone”, who takes this idea a giant step further and delivers a contrast that packs a truly powerful effect. Consider this !
“The scene at the Transfiguration offers a strange parallel and contrast with the crucifixion. Here, on the mountain, Jesus is revealed in glory – at Calvary, he is revealed in shame. Here, his clothes are shining white – at Calvary, his clothes are stripped from him and soldiers gamble for them. Here, he is flanked by Moses and Elijah, two of Israel’s greatest heroes, representing the Law and the Prophets – at Calvary, he is flanked by two criminals, representing the depth to which Israel had sunk in rebellion against God. Here, a bright cloud overshadows the scene – at Calvary, darkness falls upon the land. Here, Peter blurts out how good it all is – at Calvary, he is nowhere to be seen for he is hiding in shame after denying he even knows Jesus. Here, the voice of God Himself affirms his Son with love and joy - at Calvary, it is left to a pagan soldier to declare: ‘Truly, this man was the Son of God !’ ”
Both events - the transfiguration and the crucifixion - are examples of triumph. We have to recognize the glory of God through Jesus Christ in both these events. It is easy to see the triumph in Jesus, illuminated in divine radiance and splendour on the Mount of Transfiguration. It is harder to see the triumph in Jesus, broken and despised on the Cross at Calvary. Yet by his death Jesus bore the full weight of our sins and he triumphed over sin and death itself. On the cross the power of sin is broken. And we are set free !
So to conclude – the triumph of Jesus’s life and death inspires us to seek transformation into his likeness – and all in accordance with God’s plan and timing.
Transformation – Timing – Triumph: these are the three “T” words that help us understand the meaning of the Transfiguration.
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