February 15, 2007 – Thursday Worship for The Transfiguration of Our Lord
Luke 9:28-36
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord.
It was a cool evening. I was glad I wore the extra sweatshirt. I gathered my supplies and started up the path to the chapel, the crunching of the gravel a pleasant background to the laughter and voices of the campers as we walked. It was beginning - the ritual of Sunday vespers at camp. It was a time to center oneself before the week of activities came raining down upon us Monday morning. Not that we thought of it in those terms “centering oneself” – whatever, the campers just knew they were required to participate and as far as requirements go it was a fairly painless, almost enjoyable one. Amazing, actually, as they were junior high boys and “quiet time” didn’t really compute in their world. It certainly wasn’t a time when we went looking for God.
I wonder if that’s how Peter, James and John felt. They had just done a long stint of ministry – Jesus had calmed the storm, the disciples were just back from internship and they all had witnessed the feeding of the 5000. Peter had also just recognized publicly that Jesus was the Messiah. Jesus promptly told them not to tell anyone about this title. Then he did an odd thing. Jesus foretold his death - and not just that he would die, but that he would undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised. He went on to describe the nature of discipleship – one of daily sacrifice for the Lord – denial of comforts and possibly loss of one’s life. Pretty tough stuff.
I wonder if Peter, James and John felt that perhaps Jesus was a bit overworked and was becoming melancholy on them. They were probably glad of the chance to get away from it all and spend some time in prayer and relaxation. Surely then, Jesus would quit this talk of death and sacrifice.
And so I imagine that they followed Jesus up the mountain with the anticipation of rest. They certainly acted on that, when our story opens Jesus is praying but the three of them are weighed down with sleeping. Not a cat nap or a snooze sleeping, but heavy with sleep, burdened with sleep. They have no idea what is going on. While they fight slumber, Jesus’ appearance begins to change – becoming dazzling white; English doesn’t do the description justice. His appearance wasn’t just dazzling it was shooting lightning. The white wasn’t just white it was the garments of angels white. To this Jesus, Moses and Elijah appear and begin discussing Jesus’ departure the completion of his mission on earth and how he would get there. This was not a lighthearted conversation; but how marvelous to have counsel of Moses and Elijah. Jesus perhaps found assurance and rejuvenation in their company.
Meanwhile, the disciples “wake up” to this incredible, amazing, almost indescribable sight of Jesus with Moses and Elijah.
They are not afraid as I would be (I try to stay away from shooting lightning) – as a matter of fact Peter is so jazzed that without even thinking about it, he blurts out that they should build tabernacles to commemorate this glorious event. Suddenly a cloud envelopes them. Not just any cloud, but Nephale, a Greek word for cloud symbolizing the immediate presence and power of God. The four of them came for rest and rejuvenation, they got God. Talk about extreme retreat. This was scary for the disciples, no, this was terrifying. God is here. And God speaks to them. “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” and then as quickly as God came, God left. Nothing more is said in Luke’s story about the transfiguration – what else could be added? For that moment God was present, assuring Jesus of His love for His son. And God was present, assuring the disciples that Jesus was God’s son, the Messiah.
So they head down the mountain and back into the world. For the disciples it was back to business as usual. Or was it?
How many times did Peter, James and John refer to the image of the transfiguration in the upcoming days, weeks, months? We know what is to come, but at right now, they don’t really understand. Did they just tuck the Transfiguration away to bring out when they needed spiritual sustenance? Is this the moment to which they cling when their days were the darkest, after denial and grief and fear? To remember God’s presence and the assurance that Jesus was God’s son surely offered them comfort, strength and rejuvenation to face whatever would come their way. And what about Jesus, did this experience offer comfort to him during the trial and crucifixion?
I think so because of vespers.
Up the trail I climbed until I reached the open air chapel. The voices began to fade as we quieted ourselves for the beginning. Some boys sang, some read poems, some played instruments to us; but mostly it was silent. In the silence, I looked out across the green valley and to the mountains beyond. There in the vista I saw God’s presence. The vision came from within – from the bottom of my being - up and out. I knew. I knew God was with me and that God was True and this vista was my proof, if I needed it. I felt a warmth and a calmness. After vespers, I went down the mountain and back into the world. It was business as usual, with one exception. Over the years, in my darkest moments, when I despair, when I wonder where God is; at these times I look up and before me I see God’s vista, and again, I feel God’s presence, assurance and peace. It’s the same feeling that now comes to me in communion.
For the church communion is our moment with God, a transfiguration deserving of tabernacles. Most importantly, it is something we can cling to when we are in the deepest darkest time in our lives. At the rail we are welcomed, we are assured; we are loved. Bread and wine become the true presence of God to assure us, to strengthen us and to give us peace. Thanks be to God. Amen.
