Saturday, February 21, 2009

February 22 Sermon: A little different from last year

The story of the Transfiguration doesn't change very much from year to year. There are subtle differences in each of the synoptic gospels, Mathew, Mark, and Luke, but roughly it is the same story. To that end there will be subtle differences in this sermon from last year's but roughly it is also the same sermon, but as we will see a lot can happen from one year to the next.
As most of you know I’m a member of a group of young clergy that were brought together as the result of the First Parish Project. This past year we met at Pendle Hill near Philadelphia. I love these people, we love one another. When we are together we share our struggles, we share our joys, we worship together, we cook together, we play together, we pray together. I have never felt more connected to any group of people than I do to these folks. It was a connection I felt from the very beginning of our relationship—I remember it distinctly. We first met in the food court of the Atlanta Airport and then rode about 3 hours in a van headed for North Carolina. I knew these people were kindred souls. And the delight I take in them has only grown over these 5 years or so. We are as close as I believe the disciples were to one another. And inevitably the same thing is said at least once during our time together and that is this: so when are we going to build our little commune and all of us live and worship together forever? We want to hold onto the experience, we want to hold on to one another and stay there. Stay there in the midst of this wonderful experience. But inevitably we come down from the mountain and reenter our daily lives. Some would suggest that we are coming back to the real world, but I would disagree with that statement because it suggests that what we had up on that mountain wasn’t real. It was instead a mere figment of our imagination. But no the experience we had was real, it was as real as anything that any of us have ever known, perhaps more real. What it was though is only a moment, only once experience, and while it was profound and life changing it was only one moment among many.
That is the kind of experience that Peter, James and John had on that mountain with Jesus. It was an experience unlike any of them had ever had before. I must confess I don’t really understand what happened. Something that I have in common with most people who write about this text. Moses and Elijah appeared. Then a big cloud that they heard God’s voice echo out of “The is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.” Then Moses and Elijah disappeared and the cloud disappeared and everyone went down the mountain and Jesus said don’t talk about this until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Which you know the disciples had to be thinking “you’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me, we can’t talk about this?” But those are the facts. I can’t tell you any more than that. Well I can tell you about the one thing I do understand and that is after Moses and Elijah appeared Peter said, let’s stay here on this mountain. I’ll build you a house and Moses a house and Elijah house and we’ll just stay here forever. Peter wants to stay here and bask in this experience forever. So that means whatever is going on here has to be more than can be expressed in words. It would have to be felt. And that I can’t explain—I think whatever it was that Peter, James and John experienced here is more than words can describe. Because this was clearly a vision and visions involve more than just facts. Visions are about seeing what is not there as well, they involve a little divine imagination. They saw something in that cloud that was so spectacular that they wanted to preserve it forever. There was a Peanuts cartoon: Linus and Charlie Brown are lying on their backs on the pitcher’s mound, staring up at the clouds in the sky. 

Charlie Brown says, Linus, do you ever see anything in the clouds?”

Linus: Well, yes Charlie Brown, I do. For instance, that one over there bears a striking resemblance to Michelangelo’s depiction of the Creation on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. 

And that one, there over the school, looks like a map of Scandinavia, see; there’s Denmark and Sweden. 

And that one there looks like a helix. Do you ever see anything Charlie Brown?


Charlie Brown: Well, I was going to say a Ducky and a horsy but I changed my mind. Peter, James and John saw things in that cloud that were dazzling and amazing. And they wanted to preserve that. They wanted to preserve it because they were afraid that it might not compare to anything else that they would ever experience. Have you ever had one of those experiences? An experience where you said, I could die now. Not because you are necessarily ready to die but instead because you can’t imagine it getting any better. That is how the disciples felt. They couldn’t imagine it getting any better than this. And then it got better after they saw Moses and Elijah they heard God’s voice. Now they really were afraid. Hearing God’s voice is awe-inspiring. It comes with such weight. It also forever changes how you view the world. They will remember that day forever. They know that it will be a permanent marker. That was the day we heard the voice of God. This is the first day after the day we heard the voice of God. This is the day after the day after we heard the voice of God. This is the first meal since we heard the voice of God. Well you get the picture. But they also want to hold on to it. They want to hold this closeness that they feel tight. They don’t want it to fade away.
It’s like the end of every youth camp. We would have to physically drag the youth onto the vans to leave camp. The experience was so great, so beautiful that they wanted to hold on to it. The world at the bottom of the mountain was so much harder than this experience in the cloud. It was in this moment that the disciples were beginning to fully understand who Jesus was and they were beginning to get what was going to happen when they left the mountain, if they left the mountain. The march down the mountain wasn't going to end until they got to Jerusalem, until they got to a cross. Life on the mountain is a lot better than that is going to be. So let’s just hold on to this experience. Let’s freeze it in time and just bask in its glow forever. But they couldn’t. When they looked up again it was gone and they had to go back down the mountain.
It's at this point last year that I said
"Sometimes we want to linger too long in the negative experiences too. The painful moments that also completely alter how we see the world. We got some more bad news about my brother this week. And so while we still have a little bit of hope, it is looking more and more likely that he might die soon." How much the world has changed since I said those words. The moment of my brother's death has completely changed how I see the world. I can't tell you how many times over the last year I wanted to just go back up on the mountain and pretend that nothing else happened. But it did happen. I said last year that we want to hold on to what is dark for the same reason we want to hold on to the light--fear. We are afraid that this is as good as it will get or because it could get worse. And what the disciples will discover in some sense and what I discovered I that it will get worse. My brother died. Their friend will die. They will die. What lies at the foot of the mountain is pretty awful.

What is different this year though, is that I've learned to at least look at the light and the dark differently. We have to come down off the mountain. We don't have any other option. We experienced the beauty, the radiance, the glory. But we are also going to experience the dark. Last year when I preached this sermon I knew what was coming. I knew that my brother was going to die and I knew that it would be like no pain I had ever experienced, but my fear was that I wouldn’t survive it. The darkness would win. But it didn't. The darkness didn't defeat me, the darkness didn't defeat the light.
. Today is the end of Epiphany. So it is appropriate that this Transfiguration story appears the week before Lent begins. We have been spending these weeks talking about Jesus’ birth, the magi following a star, great healings, the glory and splendor of Jesus and next week we begin the march to the cross. We journey through the dessert of Lent. And to all of this Jesus says do not fear. Jesus says stand up Peter, lets go down the mountain. You can do it. Do not fear. Nothing will be too great that you will not be able to handle because I am going with you. As we look to the desert, as we look to the foot of the mountain, as we look to Jerusalem I will go with you, you will have the light with you even in the darkness. And then he says what as I pointed out earlier must have completely mystified the disciples but I think it so important to remember as we set out for the desert. As we try and hold on to the moments of our lives that we think can’t get any better or any worse will look differently after the resurrection. All the death that you are so afraid for me to experience, all the death and darkness that you are afraid of, do not fear. Because there is light on the other sight, beautiful glorious light. You may not be able to see it yet, but it is there. You've had a glimpse of it. Remember it and just come down from the mountain and keep walking. Keep walking when you want to lay down and close your eyes. Keep walking when you think all hope is lost. The darkness will not defeat you. It won't because it hasn't before.
And so I’ll end this Epiphany with this poem. A poem that I think serves us well as we come down from the mountain, as we let go of our fear.

"Grounds for Hope" by Gerhard Frost

If I am asked
what are my ground for hope,
this is my answer:
Light is lord over darkness,
truth is lord over falsehood,
life is lord over death.

Of all the facts I daily live with,
there's none more comforting
than this: If I have two rooms,
one dark, the other light,
and I open the door between them,
the dark room becomes lighter
without the light one
becoming darker. I know
that is no headline,
but it's a marvelous footnote;
and God comforts me in that.

Amen.

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