This morning we celebrate the Transfiguration of Christ, the final Sunday of the season of
Epiphany and the prelude to the beginning of the season of Lent. The word "transfiguration" is a strange
one for most of us today. Like "epiphany" it’s not one that comes up often in ordinary conversation.
Theologically it refers to that moment when the appearance of Jesus of Nazareth was transformed to dazzling white
light in an experience similar to that of Moses when confronting God face to face. It’s important for us to remember
that light, or more importantly illumination has been the symbol of the season of Epiphany since the wisemen first
arrived following the light of the star of Bethlehem. So in one very real sense this is that crowning moment of
full illumination, the final sign that the earthly ministry of Christ has reached its zenith. From this day on
Jesus’ will set his face toward Jerusalem and begin the journey to the cross. In chapter nine Luke also epitomizes
four ways of coming to a knowledge of God in Christ
First, intellectually by assent to a proposition as in
Peter's confession of Jesus as the Son of the Living God.
Second, mystically, or by direct revelation, as in
the experience of the Transfiguration and hearing
the Voice of God.
Third, miraculously, or by indirect revelation, as
in witnessing the healing of the epileptic boy.
And fourth, personally, by personal liberation, as
in BEING the individual who has been healed.
Luke's structuring of the chapter leads us from the first through the fourth and then propels us out into the
world to live out the implications of the relationship in response to Jesus’ challenge to "Follow me."
The chapter, in its entirety, is a brilliant exposition of the experience of the Christian life.
The tranfiguration experience "preached" can in some part be seen as an invitation to retreat and contemplation
for ourselves and for our sisters and brothers involved in this ministry. Some of my closest times, and most 'illuminating'
moments with God have been in a retreat setting, away from that which is most familiar and comfortable, with a
group of pastors or lay people who are also looking to "climb the mountain." That was one of our goals
as we "retreated" last weekend to Kirkridge as your new Church Council. In the temporary absence from
our everyday responsibilities we are given silence that is full, solitary time that is sweet, and corporate prayer
time that is free from the Sunday morning ritual pattern. We are given a fresh opportunity to worship "in
spirit and in truth."
Sometimes that mountain or lovely valley experience can be a place the "veil" falls for awhile and
the light of Christ is visible in us and in others.
The concept of the "veil" was better understood perhaps in Biblical times, when it was seen as a symbol
of modesty. You may recall that a "veil" was also found in both the Tabernacle and the Temple to screen
the worshippers from the presence of the living God, and that at the time of Christ’s death on the Cross the veil
of the Temple was torn in two. Here we find reference to the "veil" Moses placed over his face after
seeing God so that the people would not see that the glory of that moment was fading from his countenance, but
when Moses went into the tabernacle, he would remove the veil from his face because it is impossible to commune
with God in any mode but openness. However, openness also means vulnerability. The fact that Christ did not need
to veil his face is a sign that his the glory was unfading and he had no fear of vulnerability for himself or those
who would follow him.
About the only time you encounter a veil today would be at a wedding, and much of the symbolism has been lost.
Originally it was worn over the face until that moment when the groom took his bride as his wife and the veil was
lifted as a sign of their new relationship. Most brides don’t want a veil over their face throughout the wedding
so they either have their maid of honor or father lift the veil early on, or choose a head piece with the veil
back from the moment they come down the aisle.
The lifting of that gauze is the removal of any distortion of pure vision, both to see and to be seen. It is
a sign of the courage to stand revealed and ready for revelation, and is truly a moment of ultimate joy! In such
a spiritual moment our vision is sharpened; and, if we are truly blessed, our hearing as well. We hear God more
clearly in Christ's word within us, and seek to carry it out as we return to the everyday. We are all joined together
as we look with wonder at the same Light and listen together to the same Lord, striving together toward the same
Love and Justice to be made manifest in this world as in the next. It seems that the only appropriate response
to the transfigured Christ is "silence." In the Lenten Season before us we are called to "listen
to him" and in that listening experience find resurrection. We make a mistake if we try to control the Word,
and not simply let it have its way with us. Donald Gottlieb, a columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer writes about
silence with these words:
"I believe that when the soul searches for God, it does so in silence. And that the search for meaning,
understanding and the divine can only be done in silence. We don’t find our truth in billboards, bumper stickers
or sound bites—or even in our trusted leaders. I believe God speaks in those silent times when we listen to our
hearts. I believe that in the silence when we hold our child or grandchild for the first time, God speaks. Or in
the silent moment after we receive a devastating diagnosis from a doctor. Or at a grave side, when we are alone
with our thoughts, or when we slowly realize that our days on this planet will be fewer than we wish, leaving us
to wonder about the meaning of our lives. When we look at a street person and he or she looks back at us—in that
moment of silence—God speaks, and we can feel it."
Lent is a season of emptying ... a letting go of those things that keep us from "listening" and an
opening of ourselves to the transfiguring grace which is Easter. "Our life is a faint tracing on the surface
of mystery," writes Annie Dillard in "Pilgrim At Tinker Creek". Lives lived too much on the surface,
fearing ever to delve deeper, miss the awesome power and terror of Divine Presence. This week's readings take us
by the hand and plunge us below the surface into the mystery of God.
The Feast of the Transfiguration, which we celebrate today, is a shining moment in the midst of the hard work
of transformation. From disappointing disciples to courageous leaders, from argumentative church members to living
images of Christ -- we are all called by the Spirit to grow towards the glory that is God. Let us begin this journey
with courage and conviction.
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