Sermon by Walter G. Edmonds
Damascus United Methodist Church
II Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50:1-6; II Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
Transfiguration Sunday - February 22, 2009
Today we celebrate a major theophany in the life of Jesus the Christ. A theophany is a most obvious intersection of the God presence in the life of humanity, where those present tangibly experience with their senses the Eternal.
Theophanies are seen, heard, smelled, touched, and tasted. And the transfiguration of our Lord and Savior on the top of Mt. Tabor or Mt. Hermon, (where more recent scholars believe the event took place), with the appearances of Moses and Elijah remain a most powerful revelation of the One on high who came to redeem God’s people for all time.
What do our eyes see, our ears hear and are other senses take in, in this God encounter? Marjorie Holmes, a Christian writer known to many, gives this evocative and most helpful narrative. Let its spirituality pull you into this day’s lesson.
Up and up they climbed. Peter James and John rejoicing,
seeing no one but a few shepherds, grazing their flocks of sheep in the foothills.
No preaching and healing today, no crowds to be kept at bay,
no sight of human misery, no sounds of wailing and pleading
or the horrible hiss that demons sometimes make,
spewing from a tortured mouth.
All was clear, clean, still, the rocks,
glittering like diamonds in the sun and snowlight,
the very trees and shrubs as crisp as if cut
from embroidered silk, before they fell away.
Their leaves and thorns and sparkling branches cast shadows
on their frosty ground, for in their heights it was winter always.
The air was like chilled wine, to be drunk in glorious drafts,
making the head light, then even lighter the higher they ascended.
They drank it deeply into their lungs, free and young and a trifle giddy,
as at a joyous banquet. Peter was soon panting,
though beaming as he tried to keep up with James and John.
Jesus was already far ahead. Though he invited them to go with him,
after his first cordial greeting he had set off, with a pace they could not match.
At first, looking up, they could see his long legs leaping rocks,
or striding along as if on a special mission, his white garments blowing.
Then he disappeared.
Meanwhile, catching their breath, they gazed in wonder
at the magnificent panorama spread before them in every direction below.
West, the valleys and hills of Lebanon, green-stripe but bronzing with summer;
The cities of Tyre and Sidon, looking like fragile doll villages
that might topple right into the blue Mediterranean.
South soared Mount Tabor, Mount Hattin
and the whole range of violet – blue mountains
that encircled the shining harp-shaped lake they knew so well.
Refreshed, they climbed on, and soon were relieved
to discover the slightly drifted tracks of the one they were following.
It was hard going now, the snow deeper, the air even more thin.
Everything glistened and sparkled with an intensity
Peter had never seen before, even on the water.
And it flashed through his mind, in a humble marveling,
how his life had changed.
At last, breathing hard, light-headed, nearly exhausted
but filled with anticipation, they reach the place where Jesus must surely be,
and stood blinking and looking about for a moment,
their eyes first half blinded with the sun and snow.
Gradually their vision cleared, they saw that it was a broad and level spot,
surprisingly covered with green grass, for the sun poured down upon it
like a golden funnel. Overhead the sky seemed close enough to touch,
a pure cloudless blue. And now they realized they had been led to sacred ground
and even then were witnessing something profound.
For at last their eyes began to focus on the one they sought.
And they knew him and they knew him not, for he was standing in radiance
at the center of the circle, his white garments shimmering beyond
even the radiance of the sunlit snow.
Jesus’ head was thrown back as if in prayer, his countenance utterly changed-
effulgent, transfigured. Awe and terror smote them,
so that James and John covered their eyes for an instant,
and stifled the cries in their throats.
Then they saw, to their further astonishment, that two men were with him.
Whence they came and how they got there, the apostles could not fathom.
Their eyes caught confirmation from each other, to make sure
they were not dreaming. For now, in the stillness
they could hear the men speaking in low tones.
Jesus turned to the strangers and answered them, though it was impossible
to hear what was being said. What were they discussing?
Could it be perhaps what Jesus was to accomplish in the time he had left?
For suddenly they realized- with a shock of recognition
it came to Peter, James and John- these two figures were not of this world.
“Moses! Elijah!” Peter tried to moisten his dry lips.
Silently he whispered their names. Surely with a message straight from heaven.
Oh, to prolong this moment, fix it in time forever, mark it with a seal!
Peter, griped by this sublime conviction, heard his own voice saying,
“Master, we must build three tabernacles -
one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah! Only say the word.”
But as he spoke, Peter realized, to his dismay, that a bright cloud was coasting over the face of the sun,
casting a shadow over the strangers, so that he could see them less clearly.
They were dissolving, vanishing before his eyes.
As Peter stood frozen in bewilderment, a voice from the clouds in tones
both reassuring and yet astounding:
"This is my beloved son, with whom I am well please. Hear him.”
Peter hurled himself prostrate upon the ground.
In a moment he felt Jesus’ hand warm and firm on his shoulder.
“Come, Peter, rise don’t be afraid.” One by one Jesus bent over them,
touching each in turn.
And looking up in awe and wonder, they were relieved to find themselves
staring at the same dear familiar countenance.
Jesus was smiling, their friend unchanged.
The dazzling white raiment was once more a simple homespun tunic.”
Marjorie Holms, from The Messiah
(The Story of Jesus; The Reader’s Digest Association, pp. 223 -225, adapted)
My desire this day in this reflection time is for each one of us to take in the countenance of Jesus in his transfiguration. Did you know that the word countenance in its root meaning does not simply mean face or visage, acting as a synonym? Countenance comes from the medieval Latin word continentia. Its meaning had to do with a look of encouragement or moral support: the face of approval. Countenance has been used as a verb, meaning to bless something of worth or bless others’ behavior. It implies a look of strength, a sense of composure, a feeling of being deeply resolved and assured. I believe that Marjorie Holms’ wonderful rendering of St. Mark’s eight verses from chapter nine, gives us a picture of Jesus’ absolute resolve to be about the redeeming work of the one he called the abba Father. Magnificently set on Mt. Hermon, this inspired rendering, and I call it such, not an interpretation or retelling of the story, gets at the power the transfiguration is intended for us.
Transfiguration, that is, this metamorphous change that speaks of “clothing glistening and everything being extremely bright and white,” is intended for us in the same way it was intended for the selected disciples: to help us see beyond this world to the world that is Eternal. This same intention is addressed with the shining face of Moses when he was with Yahweh on Mt. Sinai; when the Hebrews ask him to veil his face because his countenance was too overwhelming. Likewise, today’s Old Testament lesson from II Kings 2, read this morning about the ascending of Elijah in the presence of Elisha, holds the same unfathomable mystery. God does intersect in our earthly experiences and does bring holy countenances upon God’s people, countenances we see that may bring fear and struggle before they bring resolve and peace. Our Lord’s transfiguration did bring awe and fear to Peter, James and John. But it also brought a metamorphose to their souls, for they began to see that the Lord wanted them to be thrown open to their alignment with eternity. They saw what Jesus was telling them all along. Jesus was the fulfillment of Moses and Elijah in their hour, and like Moses, Elijah and Jesus, they were meant to share mutually in his glory in the world to come.
What we are, is meant to metamorphose in the light of the One who made us and holds ultimate sway over our earthly being. God seeks to intersect with us in holy moments, to change us, to move us from larvae to butterflies. Last night at the Adult Confirmation Service our sister Sue Constantinides made this self evident as she gave witness upon witness of how the still small voice in her had led her from one spiritual moment to an even greater spiritual moment again and again. Her observations were cloaked with mystery she could not explain, but held sway over her whole being as she was willing and able to claim their transforming and transfiguring power in her life. It is this kind of “becoming” that is at the heart of seeing the face of God, and finding the countenance of Jesus permanently changing our lives.
The last verse of our short reading from II Corinthians 4 confirms this truth. “It started when God said, ‘Light up the darkness!’ and our lives filled up with light as we saw and understood God in the countenance of Christ, all bright and beautiful.” (The Message; Eugene Peterson, p. 2099) The transfiguration of Jesus is meant to give us access to the truth. When we go far enough into the presence of Jesus Christ, we will be given looks from his countenance that will alter our lives, that will stir up our self-perceptions and self-understandings, and will even usher in transfiguring moments that are filled with divine mystery. To think that such holy transformation is not possible for you is to cut yourself off from the One who wants you to have it all.
So on this last Sunday before the beginning of Lent, let God’s word come to us all. God’s transforming grace is in the brightness of Christ’s radiance on Mt. Hermon, and his encouragement and approval for all the faithful in his holy countenance of love.
