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.

The Academy of Science: Fail

Yesterday, AlanO and I tried to go to the Academy of Science in Golden Gate Park. It was the free day and I think many kids are on their winter break--hence the reason AlanO could take the day. But we didn't make it in. This picture is of the line outside the museum. It looks short but if you look towards the back of the photo you can see that the line stretches all the way to the other side of the park

February 15 Sermon

Yesterday, I was doing what I always do on Saturday afternoon, I was at my favorite coffee shop, Farley's, writing my sermon. (I refer to it as my East Office.) I had finished my first cup of tea and still hadn't written a word. I had, however, updated my facebook status twice. (If you don't know what facebook is, I'll explain it some other time.) Anyway my first status was "Brian is working on his sermon. How does this happen every week?" Then I decided to change it and here is why. Something even more pressing came up, something more important to share with all my facebook friends, something that the world needed to know about. The couple sitting next to me, who I think might have been on a coffee date. I think it was probably going pretty well although the guy in this guy/girl couple seemed to be more into himself than he was into her. Anyway, they were talking about how he knew Oliver Stone and how he had done some acting, and that he had done some writing, etc. This strain of conversation led to him saying that Oliver Stone wanted to do a "project" based on Chairman Mao, but that he realized that it was too big, "Lord of the Rings" big--his words. The woman chose that time to chime in, chime in with something that wasn't quite on point. She said "I didn't like Lord of the Rings." Even though this was not the point of his topic it was at least interesting enough to him to echo her sentiment about how overrated it was and that had there been a teen category at the Academy Awards then it might have deserved to win that. "Teen category!?!" I was appalled. I loved these movies and I needed to share my outrage not with the total strangers sitting next to me having this absurd conversation but with all my Facebook friends. So my status changed to "Brian can't believe that the people sitting next to him just called Lord of the Rings a teen movie. He might have to slap them." On Facebook people have the ability to respond to what you’ve written. My friend LeAnn responded back "Is that sermon you are writing about loving your neighbor?" To which I shot back, "no but maybe it should be." And this sermon is not about loving one's neighbor, well not exactly.
It is about a leper. A leper named Naaman. Most people whether they have ever been to church, whether they have ever heard a sermon, whether they have ever read the Bible, understands that lepers live in colonies and that calling someone a leper is not a good thing. But Naaman doesn't quite fit into that understanding. Naaman had some status in the community. He had some success. He had been a commander in the army of the King of Aram, a king who is not named. His leadership, and the will of the Lord, had given Aram victory over among others Israel. Remember this story is from the holy text of Israel, this is not an Aramean story--so one has to imagine that there was at least a little bristling going on by the people hearing this story, a story about how the Lord had given victory to the Arameans over the chosen people. They thought the Lord was on their side? But really how else could they explain it, clearly they must have done something wrong and the Lord had turned against them giving victory to their enemies. But despite his status, despite his victories, despite his prestige, Naaman still had leprosy.
I heard an interview this past week with Jose Ramirez, the author of a book called Squint, about his diagnosis with leprosy when he was 20 and his move from his home in Laredo, Texas to a leper colony in Carville, Louisiana. The phrase squint was new to me. It is an architectural term that was used in churches in the Middle Ages. People who were diagnosed with leprosy were banished from the community, given last rites by the church, but then required to attend mass each week through the back of the church and peer through the squint to view the mass. Ramirez also used the phrase though to describe how he was moved to the leprosorium in Carville. He was taken in a hearse, because as the ambulance drivers described it ambulances were for the living hearses were for the dead. He said on the drive from Laredo to Carville the hearse would stop to fill up with gas and people would squint in the window to see this man being driven in a hearse.
This was just in the last century, so we have to imagine that Naaman experienced some of this isolation as well. We don’t know how exactly Naaman felt isolated, but we know that even the servant of his wife noticed. Not his servant, not his wife, but his wife's servant. How much interaction could she have had with Naaman? But the servant noticed and she told her mistress that if only Naaman were with the prophet in Samaria then he would be cured. The prophet of the slave girl’s people. The prophet of the people that Naaman had defeated. We have to believe that Naaman was desperate for healing if he was willing to humble himself in this way, to pay attention to this servant girl, to go to ask for help from a people who he had defeated. How defeated he must have felt. But he might have thought this was his last chance to be whole. Ramirez talks about life in Carville. He talked about how he would go for treatments that would involve all the people there having their legs placed in a bucket of water with aloe in it and then being patted dry and rubbed down with petroleum jelly. He said that he would look at the people seated across from him and see the places on their faces where noses had once been. And he wondered would he eventually lose the use of the legs that were being treated. Would he eventually lose his nose? Would his girl friend, Magdalena, still want to look at his face? Would his isolation never end? Was this what Naaman wondered? Is this why he was so desperate for healing? Did he wonder when his wife would stop looking at him? Did he wonder when people might start averting their gaze when they passed? There must have been some of this desperation. Because he went to the king and the king sent him with gifts to the king of Samaria. The king of Samaria totally misinterprets this act and believes that the king of Aram has used this as an opportunity to justify another attack. And he rips his garments and cries out, " Am I God…?" And everyone hearing this knows the answer is no, but there is someone who knows God, and who knows what to do, Elisha. Elisha is the prophet for the job. When Elisha hears what is going on he sends a message to the king to send Naaman to him. And Naaman hops on his horse, again humbling himself. Why didn't Elisha come to him? This was an insult. He was the mighty Naaman, victor over Israel. But he goes and he gets to the front of Elisha's house and he waits. He had come this far, now Elisha was going to have to come out to him. He would only stoop so low. And what does Elisha do? He sends out a messenger to tell Naaman to go bathe in the Jordan. A messenger? Bathe in the Jordan? There were bigger and greater rivers. Angry that he had wasted his time he turned to head back home. Also angry because he believed he would now live with this disease forever. Soon he would be completely alone. And again it was a messenger who offered a word of advice. He said "You would have done something much harder than this, so why not go bathe in the river." And that is what Naaman did, he bathed in the Jordan river and he was healed. But had it not been for some servants and a foreign prophet the healing might never have come. It reminds me of a song from the musical “Spamelot.” King Arthur is singing a song about how he is all alone, when his assistant Patsy chimes in that he is not alone because Patsy is there. Unfortunately for King Arthur he never gets it and so he is alone, but fortunately for Naaman he gets it, he hears the words of the servants.
Jose Ramirez was eventually cured of his leprosy, but before that he found a community in Carville that adopted him and hoped and prayed for his healing. They did not want the same fate that befell them to befall him. Even in his isolation, even in the back room of the church, even in the hearse he was not alone. Naaman didn't just need healing from his leprosy. The leprosy was merely a physical manifestation of something greater. Naaman's wounds were internal. The sense of entitlement, the arrogance, the pride. This is what isolated him from the very healing he sought. His healing came from the most unexpected places, it came from a servant, it came from an enemy, it came from a tiny foreign river.
We all have wounds that lie deep beneath the skin. That threaten to isolate us from the world around us. That prevent us hearing the offers of help. That prevent us from loving our neighbor. That keeps us stuck in our sad and bitter lives. That keeps us feeling like we are alone. That keeps us from finding healing. That keeps us stuck in our arrogance, in our sense of entitlement, that keeps us in our anger, that keeps us in our loneliness. Our wounds are deep. Let us be open to healing, let us be open to hearing words of hope from unexpected people in unexpected places. Let us be open to each other. Amen.

Bulletin Cover for Sunday

Okay, I know this is tacky. I found the picture on a lectionary text website. Actually, a friend of mine found it and shared it with me. I'm not even using this text this week--it is Jesus healing the man with leprosy. But I couldn't resist using it.

Human bobble head

This guy was seated next to me on the airplane from Phoenix to Raleigh yesterday. (I'm in Raleigh on my way to a Baptist men's retreat on the coast of North Carolina.) He slept the whole way. He was a complete armrest hog. I, also thought that his head was going to pop off his neck the way it would fall to his chest, and it did that often. And not once did he wake up. It would just fall over and then jerk right back up. So of course I had to take a picture. I wanted to get a picture of it in the down position but I couldn't work that fast. I was working stealthily because I couldn't be obvious that I was taking a picture of sleeping beauty.

That though is the real beauty of the i-phone. i can take a picture of random things that I find funny.

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did.

Yuck!!!

I got a parking ticket today for...wait for it...wait for it...

Not curbing my wheels. $45!!!! WTF?!?!?