May the God of peace hold me by my right hand and guide me; who is a shepherd to shepherds and a guide to guides. In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Good evening/morning! Well, brothers and sisters, I stand before you still bearded! Which means that in a short while, we can all enjoy the fruits of a hard won victory on the spicy battle of last Friday’s chili cookoff: Fr. Fred’s own beard is imminent! You should know that as an opponent, father is relentless in his pursuit of his goal (his chili is delicious. I was craving it this/yesterday morning) but he is also gracious: exactly as you’d expect from a man who strives to embody the transformed life of a disciple of Christ.
And transformation is exactly what is at the heart of our life together, and it is typified by the amazing account from our lesson from the Gospel according to Mark.
To summarize, 3 disciples: Peter, James, and John went with Jesus up to a mountain and his appearance changed right before their eyes. His clothes became so white it dazzled them. Moses and Elijah appeared with him. Peter, being Peter, thought that it would be really great to just live on the mountain for a while. And then a voice from a cloud reminded the disciples, and us, that Jesus is God’s Son, the beloved one, and therefore he speaks with divine authority. This story is just dripping with importance and one of the ways that I like to think about the Transfiguration is as a connecting point.
You see, this event in the life of Christ connects his ministry to the ancient story of the chosen people of God in having him share the page with Moses, the lawgiver, and Elijah who typifies the prophets. The divine voice that recognizes Jesus’ Sonship underscores the authority with which he speaks: as God spoke through the lawgiver and the prophets, so does He speak through Christ who not only typifies, but perfects those vocations. The bottom line is, Christ’s disciples then and now, can trust the message and ministry of the Son as having been ordained by the Father and empowered by the Holy Spirit.
But the Transfiguration doesn’t just connect Christ to Israel’s past. It provides an important glimpse of his, and by extension our, destiny. You see, the risen Christ, the Christ who is victorious over his unjust death and simple burial, is a glorified Savior. His transfiguration on the mountain prefigured his current glory enthroned in the pure glory of heaven at the right hand of the Father. The disciples may have missed that part a bit, else they wouldn’t have been so hesitant during the passion. But through his glorification, we may be confident in our own.
Which is the final connection I want to talk about today. His glory is our own. Now, most of us don’t walk around shining in glimmering clothes that make my surplice look like a trash bag. And of course, we do await the fullness of our shimmering selves in the coming of the new heavens and the new earth. But even today, by our baptism and by his grace, God’s people are a people of light. I always found this hard to comprehend. Like I said, we don’t tend to glow much. But I read something once that helped me understand some of the implications of God’s work transforming, transfiguring us as we walk with Him. Within C.S. Lewis’ collection of works called The Weight of Glory, one reads this haunting passage from the sermon of the same name:
“It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which,if you say it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare…”
He goes on to write:
“It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. It is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
I think Professor Lewis is pointing us to the fact that our transfigured and mysteriously luminous life is not a life meant to shine without any witnesses. There are those, therefore, that need to see the transfigured ones as beacons of hope in the looming darkness of human sin; in the bondage of our disordered appetites and under the thrall of misguided affections. Put another way and paraphrasing the words of Jesus, no one puts a lamp under a bowl, but rather they put their light on a stand for all to see.
And while I was considering what to say this evening/morning, I kept thinking about different ways the Church shows forth her transfigured glory, radiating out the witness of her transformed light and life. And then I checked my Instagram account and found the most amazing thing: one of our young people had posted a picture of the crucifix right here and captioned it with a scripture verse from Luke. And then I thought about how many times our students have done something similar on social media or in their conversations in real life. This might seem like such a small thing, but try to see it for what it is: an example of Christ’s radiant light pouring from a person who is being actively transfigured by grace, with the hope of further transformation of others, on a medium that is probably best known as a potential digital archive of our mistakes.
And as we transition towards the season of Lent this week, I hope that you will draw closer to God in preparation for further transformation. Perhaps as part of your Lenten discipline, ask God how you can, by His grace, make the Transfigured One known by the witness of your life.
May the world know you by your love,
Amen.
Sermon preached by the Rev. David S. Bumsted
The Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota Florida
Last Sunday after Epiphany
15 February 2015