Monday, March 3, 2014

Sermon for March 2, 2014: Transfiguration of Jesus

Last Sunday after Epiphany: Sunday, March 2, 2014
PREACHER: Pastor Carrie Smith


Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

Like many of my fellow pastors, I’ve had a rather interesting path to the pulpit. One of the detours along the way took me into the world of pregnancy and birth. I was hoping to become a midwife one day, but first I became a certified “doula”, or labor and birth assistant. 



As a doula, I met with expectant couples in the months leading up to the due date. I had read every book available on the topic of childbirth, both old and new, standard and a little off-the-wall, and sought to bring all that knowledge with me into these meetings. We made birth plans, practiced comfort techniques, talked about fears, attended classes together, toured the hospital, prepared for breastfeeding, and kept in close contact as the date drew closer.

I saw myself, the doula, as an essential part of the birthing team. And I was, in a way (although most doctors would not have given you the same answer!) I saw myself as bringing ancient womanly wisdom back into the delivery room. I wanted to help to change the attitudes about birth in our culture, one mother and one baby at a time.

These were big ideas! And it was a big honor to be invited again and again into such sacred space. I like to think that I did make a difference, at least for those families, even if I couldn’t single-handedly change the entire culture.

But something important did, in fact, change, especially because I learned something very valuable along the way. At the beginning of each labor, the expectant couple and I would walk into the hospital carrying all of that knowledge, plus a birth plan, and our bag of massage balls and essential oils and relaxation tapes. These were the items we had carefully packed for the journey—a journey filled with many unknowns, but with only one certainty: that it would be the toughest thing the mother and her partner would ever accomplish.

We started off every journey with these big ideas and big bags of stuff. And every time, when fear and anxiety started to take hold, I found that the very best tools I had brought with me were my hands. 



A gentle touch on the shoulder. A tightly squeezed hand. A warm bag of rice held around an aching neck. A cool washcloth laid on a hot forehead. A fist firmly placed in the middle of a painful back. Hands held in prayer. These were the best tools in my doula’s toolkit, and it turns out that while all my training and reading was helpful and good, what the laboring woman needed most was affirmation of my presence. She needed to know she was not alone. Whether or not things played out exactly as she had written in her birth plan—and there were almost always detours along the way—she knew I was by her side. A simple human touch turned out to be the miracle that could calm her fears and give her the strength to continue the journey.

The story of the Transfiguration of Jesus takes place just before he and the disciples head out on a journey—the journey to Jerusalem and the cross. It’s a story that has plenty to pay attention to: Jesus’ face shining like the sun, his clothes turning white, the voice booming out of a big cloud, and the mysterious appearance of Moses and Elijah. But what draws me in, what makes me take notice, isn’t the big, flashy stuff God was doing up there on the mountain, but rather that bit at the end, where Scripture says:

“When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

Hear those words again: Jesus came and touched them. Jesus, who had just been engulfed in bright white light and who was miraculously standing in the company of the long-dead Moses and Elijah, in a moment packed with more meaning and intensity than we can rightly understand, saw the fear of his friends, and reached out to touch them. There they were, cowering on the ground (and who could blame them?) when Jesus came near, and placing a hand on them, said, “Come on, get up, guys. Don’t be afraid.”

A hand on the shoulder. A simple human touch. Words spoken in kindness. Affirmation of Jesus’ presence with them. It’s just what they needed to continue the journey.

Now, we can say the Transfiguration is about many things: It shows how God’s glory and power shines through Jesus. It affirms that Jesus is a man of authority, on par with the great Moses and Elijah. It also definitely demonstrates how even Peter, James, and John, close associates of Jesus, were confused about what he wanted them to do next (“Hey, guys, this is awesome! Let’s build some cabins and stay up here forever!”)

All of these things are true. But today, what I experience in the story of the Transfiguration is how God, in God’s goodness, gave the disciples just what they needed for the journey ahead. For Peter, James and John, who had already given up so much to follow Jesus, the path ahead seemed filled with many unknowns, but with only one certainty: that it would be very, very hard. In chapter 16, immediately before this scene on the mountain, Jesus tells the disciples that “he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” Peter didn’t like that a bit, remember? When he objected, Jesus rebuked him, saying “Get behind me, Satan.” So again, Jesus tried to tell them, ““If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

It’s no wonder the disciples were afraid. When they first said they would follow Jesus, they never imagined the journey would include a trip to Jerusalem, a false conviction, a death sentence, and the cross. As many times as they heard him say it, they still didn’t want to believe this was the only path ahead. I can liken the disciples’ reluctance to accept this news to what happened with 100 % of the laboring women I have accompanied. Without fail, all birthing women get to the really hard part and say: “Well, that’s it. I’m going home. Someone else is going to have to finish this, because I’m done!” I can personally attest to the truth of this, in fact! However, this could be said for all of us, men or women, young or old, couldn’t it? When the going gets tough, most of us, like the disciples, start to look for a way around the inevitable. Surely, there’s another way. Maybe it’s not too late to just go home.

But Jerusalem, and the cross, were most definitely on the itinerary, and Jesus was having little luck inspiring his friends to jump on board. So what did the disciples need to continue on? What was it they were lacking? Assurance. Affirmation. Understanding. They needed positive affirmation that this man, Jesus, was someone they could count on. And that is exactly what they received from God on the mountain that day. To us, it seems a bit over-the-top, doesn’t it? All that light shining from Jesus’ face, his clothes changing colors, and the appearance of a couple of ghosts—what’s the point? But for Peter, James and John (and especially for the early Christians who heard this story later), these details were critical. All those flashy details make one really big point: that Jesus has authority, and that authority comes from God. “This is my Son, my beloved, with whom I am well-pleased. Listen to him!”

And then, when the intensity of the moment was just too much for Peter, James, and John, and they fell down in fear, they received the other affirmation they needed that day. With a simple touch of his hand, Jesus reassured them that he was still with them. “Get up, and do not be afraid.” The lights and color-changing clothes and the voice from the cloud were impressive; but the touch of Jesus, assuring them of his presence with them, gave them the strength they needed to get up and follow, down the mountain and all the way to Jerusalem. 



As disciples of the same Jesus, I believe that God gives us, too, what we need for the journey. Sometimes, God can be a little flashy. Do you remember the double rainbow guy from a few years back? If you missed this viral video, I can sum it up in a few words: A guy is out camping on a mountain. He wakes up to see a beautiful, full double rainbow in view of his campsite. He turns on his video camera, and proceeds to gush about the beauty of this double rainbow for 3.5 minutes. “Oh, wow! Oh man! It’s a double rainbow! It’s so bright! Wow, what does it mean, what does it mean?” People have been making fun of this guy for years for crying over a double rainbow, but what I saw was a person simply overwhelmed by the beauty of creation. Maybe you’ve felt that way, too—overwhelmed by how a beautiful sunrise or an exceptionally clear night sky full of stars can renew your energy and turn your heart again to trust in the God who created it all.

But sometimes, what we need for the journey isn’t a double rainbow, or a blazing sunset or an intense religious experience. Sometimes, what we need to continue on is the simple touch of Jesus. Perhaps it comes as a sudden sense of peace when you’re lifting up your concerns in prayer. Maybe it’s a really well-timed hug from a friend you’ve run into on the street. Maybe it’s a passage of Scripture you’ve read a million times, but this time, it’s as if Jesus is speaking directly to you. Very often, for me, it’s happens through the simple but powerful presence of Jesus Christ in the bread and the wine. Sometimes, the moment is so insignificant, that it’s only later that we recognize the hand of Jesus was present. 



Whether through a mountaintop experience, an epiphany of understanding, or a full double rainbow—or more simply, through the touch of a friend or the kindness of a stranger—God comes to us, again and again, breaking into our lives in big and small ways, giving us the strength and assurance we need to follow Jesus wherever he leads. As we prepare today for the beginning of Lent, walking again alongside Jesus to Jerusalem and the cross, I pray that you will receive the inspiration, the strength, and the assurance you need to continue the journey with him. And know that whatever you are facing this day, and every day, Jesus walks with you, too. Do not be afraid. Amen.




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