Last
Sunday after the Epiphany; Yr. A, March 2, 2014
Exodus
24:12-18;
Psalm 99; 2 Peter; Matthew 17:1-9
Sermon
preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church
Today
we heard transfiguration readings, miraculous stories of our faith; the story
of Moses going up onto the mountain to receive the tablets of stone. God speaks to Moses and calls him up the
mountain, setting him apart. Moses takes
Joshua with him part of the way, and then he goes on by himself. At the top, the people see a devouring fire,
and Moses is consumed in cloud and mystery.
They are confused and afraid.
After seven days he returns with face glowing and tablets in hand … the
holy instruction embedded in stone, a guide to lead God’s people into the
holiness of their calling.
Jesus
too goes up a mountain. He takes two
friends, James and John. On the
mountain, they encounter Elijah and Moses in the dazzling white light. The voice of God calls out to them, declaring
Jesus God’s beloved. Listen to him, the
voice commands, setting him apart. James
and John are confused and afraid. The
light fades and they are left alone with Jesus. Jesus the living incarnation of God’s
instruction touches them, and says … do not be afraid.
I
am always touched by how often in the bible, stories of intimate encounter with
God make people afraid. The Israelites
at Mt. Sinai were so afraid they collected all their gold and made it into a
calf! They created their own god to
protect them. When Moses came down from
the mountain transfigured in appearance, the people were afraid of him. After that, he covered his face so others
wouldn’t be scared away. Jesus is
consumed in bright dazzling light. The
disciples are so afraid they fall to the ground. Maybe Jesus’ instruction about not telling is
grounded, at least partially in the idea that if others heard the story they
would be afraid of him. He doesn’t want
to scare people away. Power is
frightening, especially power we do not understand or control.
What
would it be like to imagine that each of us could come into contact with that
kind of power … and grace … in prayer.
Jesus, James and John had a profound experience in the events we heard
today, but Jesus went off to pray all the time.
He encouraged his disciples to do the same. We hear over and over again how Jesus modeled
that spiritual habit. My guess is that experiences like the one we heard today,
weren’t the norm … and yet, each time we pray we create the possibility for
profound connection with God. Is that a
comforting thought … or a frightening one?
Prayer
is a pathway to spiritual health. The
disciples asked Jesus how to pray and Jesus answered them very simply. Praise God.
Pray for God’s kingdom to come.
Pray for what you need for the day.
Ask forgiveness. Seek to be led
away from temptation.[1] We encapsulate all this into what we call the
Lord’s Prayer. Notice that what’s in
there. Praise … give glory to God, which
means acknowledging God as God, recognizing that God is something that we are
not. Kind of makes me feel a little
vulnerable, acknowledging that I am not the be all and end all of
everything. It means accepting the fact
that I don’t have the power to control lots of things I’d like to control … the
safety of those I love, the events of my day (no matter how well I may plan
it), or even how I will be treated by those I meet. Most of life, outside of myself in the
present moment, is out of my control.
That’s a scary thought.
I
have trouble thinking in the present.
Praying for my daily needs sounds so limiting. I have loftier needs, concerns and
desires. I want to re-do our bathroom,
build a patio in the backyard, expand the porch. I want my siblings to be healthy and
happy. I want everyone to have a living
wage and health care that allows them to live full lives. I want violence to end wherever it is, and
for our children to have meaningful educational experiences that inspire them
to work for things they love. I want to
protect the polar bears from the effects of global warming and stop the
alarming loss of diversity on our planet.
I want child labor to become a thing of the past, and sweatshops to
disappear. I want to slow the use of new
technologies until we have time to evaluate the ethical and biological implications
of using GMO’s and stem cells and cloning and drones and Facebook … the list
goes on and on and on. I want. I want. I want. I want.
I
have trouble even thinking about what my daily bread looks like … yet that’s
what God calls me to care most about.
Care about today. The people I
meet today. The situations that confront
me today. The children I see today. My family.
My work. My emotional and
spiritual recreation today, which is really time for me to be re-created. One
day at a time isn’t just good for those in twelve step programs. It’s a theme for all of us to adopt in our
spiritual lives. What do you need for
today … to face the troubles that today brings … and to experience the deep
joys that will be part of it as well?
Pray for today, Jesus says.
Pray
for forgiveness too, because whether we like it or not, we’re going to make
mistakes … knowingly and unknowingly.
Mistakes are not ends. They are
opportunities for re-creating
ourselves. They bring forth the
possibility of new life between people, and between us and God. I don’t think God expects us to be “perfect”
in the sense of never making a mistake. We
are human beings, people in process. God
expects us to try, whole-heartedly, and with vigor, to do what is good. When Martin Luther was in hiding for his
beliefs he wrote this to a friend. “If you are a preacher of mercy, do not
preach an imaginary but the true mercy.
If the mercy is true, you must therefore bear the true, not an imaginary
sin. God does not save those who are
only imaginary sinners. Be a sinner and let
your sins be strong, let your trust in Christ be stronger, and rejoice in
Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sins while we are here, for
this life is not a place where justice resides.”[2] So follow Luther’s advice. Do what you think is right. Do it boldly, and trust that if it misses the
mark, God’s forgiveness proclaimed by Jesus is always there for us, even before
we ask … but in the asking, in that prayer, we
are transfigured from glory into
glory, transfigured more fully into the light of God.
This
isn’t a journey we take alone. Moses
took Joshua. Jesus took James and John,
and the rest of the twelve. There are
times to pray alone, but there are also times to pray with others. On Sundays, we come together as a
community. At the Mobile Pantry on
Wednesday, three of us gathered around a woman who was suffering with pain in
her joints. We held hands and prayed for
her comfort. At the start of the food
distribution, we thanked God for the abundance that was there to be shared, and
we asked for the gift of seeing the face of God in every face around us. We prayed to be changed, re-created …
transfigured.
Like
Jesus, if we cultivate a habit of prayer to praise God … to meet our daily
needs … to receive forgiveness … to usher in the justice and peace of God’s
kingdom … we will find ourselves transfigured.
Our attitude will more often be one of gratitude. We’ll look more intently at the present and
worry less about the future, taking charge of what we can manage and leaving
the rest to God. We’ll act more boldly
for the kingdom because love will be our motivation and forgiveness our safety
net. We’ll shine with a brightness that
might frighten others, but which will illumine our lives for good. In fact, our lives will be a prayer … whether
we’re standing on a mountain top or sitting in our living room chair, God is
with us … and Moses and Jesus have gone before us.
So
take the time to pray during this Lenten season. Commit to offering some of your precious time
to God, precisely because it is so precious. Giving away our time is giving away our
lives. Money can be earned, and
treasures restored, but time flies. Once
it is used up, it is gone forever. We can
never take it back or reclaim it for another purpose. It is a true gift. Jesus touched the disciples and said, “get up
and do not be afraid”. That message is
for us also. Spend that precious time
intentionally, and give some to God in prayer.
Amen.
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