Saturday, March 1, 2014

"Transfiguration" - March 2, 2014

Matthew 17:1-9

I recently heard someone refer to having a case of “sphenopalatineganglioneuralgia”.  It sounded horrible.  I found myself wondering if I needed to wash my hands or find a surgical mask.  Did the Department of Public Health know about this?  Would there be a study by the Centers for Disease Control?  How long would the quarantine last?  Then I looked it up.  The explanation broke everything down into its parts:

“spheno-” refers to the sphenoid bone, which is at the front of your skull;
“-palatine” has to do with your palate, the roof of your mouth;
“-ganglio” points to the ganglion, a nerve cell; and
“-neuralgia” is nerve pain.

A light went on. “Sphenopalatineganglioneuralgia” is a nerve pain in the front of your forehead connected to something in your mouth.  In other words, it’s an “ice cream headache”.  It’s a “brain freeze”.  That’s a minor example of how something confusing or puzzling or mysterious sometimes all comes together and in one moment, with a flash, it all makes sense. 

The disciples who were on the mountain with Jesus, as Matthew tells about it, had a moment like that.  The revelation that Jesus is God’s Son drew together the whole religious history of their people, parts of which even seemed to be at odds with one another at times. 

There was a tradition, on the one hand, of respect for the Law.  It’s the kind of religious outlook that takes very, very seriously the details of worship.  It’s the kind of outlook that says to be sure the colors of the hangings and the altar cloths are the right ones for the season.  It the kind of outlook that calls us to give God the best of our creative powers, to pay attention to the music and to wrap all aspects of our daily life in prayer.  All of that is good, but it can threaten to turn inward and move the focus from God to ourselves and what we are doing. 

The other strand looks back to the Prophets and their drive for social holiness.  It embodies the sense that, by feeding the hungry and providing shelter and generally performing acts of kindness, we are serving God.  At its best it goes even further to encourage a confrontation with the impulses within society that lead to poverty and exclusion and injustice.  But it can threaten to turn our eyes away from the part that we ourselves bear in the injustice of the world or to become judgmental of others, as if we were God.

There are times that the two aspects get split apart, which is a false division but a common one.  Call them the religious right and the religious left in our day, or the traditionalists and the progressives, or the evangelicals and the liberals.  There were those then, as there are those now, who wanted to grab Jesus for their own camp and hear him say what they wanted to hear. 

When the disciples were allowed to see him in his glory, though, they saw him as the Lord of all.  In him, separate elements of the human experience of God that sometimes seem at odds are drawn together.

 “And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.  Suddenly there appeared Moses and Elijah, talking with him.” [Matthew 17:2-3]
It is Jesus who holds Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, together.  Jesus pulls all of these impulses together in a way that shines with true holiness. 

He could and did point to the goodness of the Law:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” [Matthew 5:17-20]
But he never forgot the love that undergirds it.  He knew that there were times when hungry people would pick grain on the Sabbath.  He knew that there would be people who had sinned who needed forgiveness, not condemnation.

            On the other hand, he knew the limits that the prophetic side had to learn, and could observe it all firsthand.  He understood that there were people like the three he took up the mountain – James and John who were hotheads and ambitious, (“Sons of Thunder” he called them) who needed to learn humility; and Peter, who was loyal and steady to a point but in the end could be overcome by fear, enough to deny that he even knew him.  These were his closest friends.  They would be with him in his most prophetic moments, like when he overturned the tables of the money changers in the Temple itself, citing the words of Isaiah [56:7]:

“My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.” 
But, sadly, they would not be right there when he, who had spoken about loving our enemies, actually did it, crying out from the cross where he suffered,

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing!” [Luke 23:34]
But they were there at that moment when heaven itself opened up and the great figures of faith were there, treating him with honor and respect.  It was a moment when he was given a validation by someone even greater than Moses or Elijah, as

“suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” [Matthew 17:5]
Matthew doesn’t give a name to that voice, but surely it was the same heard by John the Baptist at Jesus’ baptism,

“You are my Son, the Beloved, with You I am well pleased.” [Mark 1:11]
It was the voice of God, again proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, the one to whom the traditions of the Law and the Prophets both pointed, the one who would bring them together.

            Jesus’ transfiguration was a moment where those three, who are people like us, saw in one brilliant glimpse of God’s glory, that Jesus holds all of human life in the light of God’s love.  Jesus is able to bring all of our impulses under God’s guidance and control.  Jesus is able to provide us with the balance that makes us truly human, and to bring us into line with God’s will for the world.  Julia Ward Howe wrote,

“In the beauty of the lilies,
Christ was born across the sea
With a glory in his bosom
That transfigures you and me.
As he died to make us holy,
Let us die to make men free.
Our God is marching on.”

She was right.  Jesus had within him that which transfigured him on that mountaintop but which also transfigures us here and now.  Personal holiness and the search for a righteous society don’t need to, and shouldn’t, stand apart.  The awareness of God’s holiness and our sinfulness go hand-in-hand with a sense of God’s mercy for us and for others.  To see the glory of God shining out from Jesus is also to see it reflected from the people he gathers around him, and the people to whom he was sent.

            So keep your eyes open, but keep your sunglasses handy, because thanks to him it can get very, very bright.

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