Day of the Church Year: Transfiguration of Christ C
Scripture Passage: Luke 9:28-43a
On the mountaintop with Peter, James, and John, Jesus is transfigured before them. Prophets Moses and Elijah, long dead, appear with him. Peter, James, and John stand in God’s glory, desire to set up camp on the mountaintop, and are enveloped by the cloud from which God speaks, saying: This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him! While Jesus’ transfiguration is long on mystery and short on clarity, it seems to confirm Jesus is God’s Son, Jesus is a prophet in the line of Moses and Elijah, and the shining light of transfiguration is God’s glory, God’s greatness revealed.
And then, they come down the mountain. They come down to reality, the gritty, messy world of first century Israel. They come down and meet a crowd, and from the crowd, a man cries out to Jesus. The man’s son convulses and shrieks, and the disciples cannot cast out what the man assumes is an unclean spirit. Jesus calls for the boy, rebukes the spirit, heals him, and returns the boy to his father. And, as the gospel writer Luke tells us: all were astounded at the greatness of God.
Mystical spiritual experiences can lull us into a type of spirituality limited to the mountaintop, to the quiet retreat, to the extraordinary. Those mystical spiritual experiences are wonderful, and I’ve had plenty of them: prayer retreats and mission trips, Cursillo and Tirosh weekends, Holden Village trips and seminary-required retreats, working at Lutheran Bible Camps and attending Lutheran Campformation. Profound spiritual experiences that have shaped my life. Experiences that reveal the glory, the greatness of God. Times of insight, connection, and joy.
As meaningful as those times have been—and they really have been, God’s glory is not revealed just in those extraordinary experiences but in the everyday, the mundane, even the messy. When Jesus, Peter, James, and John come down the mountain, amidst the chaos of a crowd, a boy is healed, a father relieved and grateful, a family’s reputation restored, community connections healed. For in first century Israel, an unclean spirit is a mark of shame and results in disconnection. Healing, then, is the glory and greatness of God revealed. But how easily we read past this story, just one healing story among so many in the gospels, just one mundane example of God’s greatness. We usually literally read past this story for the verses that contain this story are “optional” according to the Revised Common Lectionary for this day in the church year. At least to my knowledge, today is the first time in 11 years we have read this story in worship.
This week, I spoke with someone who told me about a profound spiritual experience they had, a 10 day silent meditation retreat in a quiet, beautiful spot in northern California. A decade ago, this retreat provided clarity of purpose, strategies for daily living, and meaning for this person’s life, clearly a mountaintop experience. Though not Christian, this person articulated something akin to glory—the glory of the universe—revealed through their many hours of silent meditation. Fascinated by their story, I asked at its conclusion: So, do you practice meditation now? Surely, I thought, after such a powerful experience at this retreat, this person would have begun a daily meditation practice that continues to keep them grounded. But, no. No, they don’t. Even though the meditation was so helpful to you? I clarified. No.
The person whose life was changed by the 10 day silent meditation retreat is like all the rest of us and, indeed, like Peter, James, and John. When we bump against the glory and greatness of God revealed in mystical, transfiguring ways, we are grateful. We don’t want to leave. But when we return to the world we’ve always known, the world of demands and expectations, the world of bills and taxes, the world of news and rush hour traffic, we do not expect to see God’s glory and greatness revealed. And cultivating an openness to God’s glory and greatness revealed in the mundane is a tough sell.
So, I want to tell you: God is at work everywhere, every day, in every realm of this life. We don’t need to go to the mountaintop to see God’s glory and greatness revealed. All those meaningful spiritual experiences I’ve had, yes, they were wonderful. But you know where I see God at work in the chaos of daily life? At GLOW, Grace Lutheran On Wednesdays, which is coming back March 9! Join us for, probably, a soup supper at 5:30 out in the breezeway followed by mid-week Lenten worship. If you’d like to help make GLOW happen, please talk with me. At GLOW, we connect over a meal and then open our hearts to one another in civil dialogue or Bible study, in story circles or, in this case, mid-week Lenten worship.
I see God’s glory and greatness revealed...At Grace council meetings! I’m with Renee on this one. (For those who may not know her, Renee has served on the council for several years.) Council meetings are a spiritual experience, where we discern how God is calling us at Grace Lutheran Church.
I see God’s glory and greatness revealed...While listening to you! When I sit in your living room or you sit at the table in my office and talk about ife, about what you see God doing, about your questions and struggles and joys, I feel deeply honored to receive your story. God’s greatness is evident in your trust, your faith, your sharing.
I see God’s glory and greatness revealed...In the beauty of creation! There is something about the light here in Phoenix that I love, especially in the morning and evening. The light astonishes and delights me in a way I can fully describe, a tip-off that God is showing off. Or as Alice Walker puts on the lips of her character Shug in the novel The Color Purple, “More than anything, God loves admiration. [God’s] not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off it you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”
And that’s the trouble, I think, with God’s glory, God’s greatness. Our heads might be in the clouds, on the mountaintop, looking for God to come and be with us there, speak to us, show Godself to us. All the while, God reveals God’s greatness in so many different ways right in front of us. In the color purple, in the monthly meeting, in the weekly meal and worship.
The hymn Be Thou My Vision comes to us from 10th century Ireland and reads: Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart. Naught be all else to me save that thou art. Thou my best thought by day and by night. Waking or sleeping thy presence my light.
Be Thou My Vision is a prayer that God would so invade our eyes and the eyes of our hearts that we might see with clarity what God does, who God is, God’s greatness revealed in the everyday. When we get to the mountaintop and see God’s glory revealed, we can with ancestors of faith shout out: glory, hallelujah! But in the meantime, when we walk by the color purple in a field somewhere, be thou our vision, O Lord of our hearts. Your presence is our light. Thanks be to God! Amen.