Sermon Tone Analysis

The greek word for transfiguration is a familiar one: metamorphosis.

We have a sense for this word in our everyday, right?

I was so intrigued when I first learned that caterpillars enter cocoons and somehow become butterflies.

What?

To a child, this is magical, profound, awe-inspiring.

Wait, you’re telling these fuzzy little things I love seeing crawl along a log — you mean they learn how to fly?

How is that even possible?

Well, we know that this is quite a remarkable process.

The caterpillar spins its cocoon and enters into a hibernation state.

In this state, their body changes it’s entire structure.

First, it breaks down into goo, an elemental batch of mush that includes its DNA, but otherwise gets all mixed up.

Then it reforms, growing wings, repurposing and reawakening its matter to be new antenna and legs and body.

It is metamorphosis at its most beautiful, and also most common.

I’m sure we’ve seen the timelapse videos of this process.

It’s remarkable.

And so when we hear that Jesus was transfigured before the disciples eyes, what we need to hear is that he is utterly changed in their eyes.

Light, dazzling clothing, a face shining like the sun.

And not alone, but accompanied by the Hebrew patriarch Moses and the Prophet Elijah.

For Moses and Elijah to appear with Jesus is a clear reference to how Jesus is the fulfilment of the law and the prophets.

It’s important for us to pause on this.

First, Moses is credited with the writings of the Hebrew law, the first 5 books, the Torah.

Most scholars today don’t lean on Moses as the principal author of the books we have now, but rather that it is this Moses, Mosaic tradition that is codified in the law.

Moses is the principle one who relates to God through these books and receives the law.

Therefore, in Jewish understanding, Moses is the archetypal figure for the formation of the laws of their people.

Moses the liberator is the one who brings freedom, in God’s providence, through the power of the law.

And then Elijah — the embodiment of God’s prophetic voice, the development of the law, lived out in a man who spoke for justice and freedom for his people amidst a time of great despair and disconnection from the practices of the law.

Moses and Elijah mark out the evolution of the Hebrew tradition, through the time of wandering in the desert, the Kings and Judges, exile and return.

We might say they are the prototypical leaders of the people, the foreshadowing and less than adequate, yet all so important, leaders of their people who would point to the coming of the Messiah.

The disciples recognize them — they are firmly situated in their imaginations and therefore are not seen in new light.

But Jesus is.

Here, Jesus shows up as the fulfillment of both the law and the prophets, the pinnacle of God’s design and plans for Israel.

And the disciples are overcome by his presence.

Jesus is transfigured before the disciples on the mountain, a place of God’s revelation, a place akin to where Moses received the law and Elijah witnessed the presence of God in fire.

The mountain is a place for new sight, for the people to say “who is this?” and wonder at what God is revealing to them.

As we know, this moment in the story of Jesus is the transition, the fulcrum, the shifting point that leads us, now, into the journey towards the cross and the tomb and the promise of resurrection.

The game is afoot.

Ok, great…but how does this all connect?

What are we to make of this?

Friends, this week, we move into Lent.

Into the practices of fasting and preparation.

And it is important that we pause today and hear this text of God’s transformation, transfiguration, in Christ, as it marks out the path for us to walk, as well.

Let’s pause and take a moment for a practice together.

I want to have you get comfortable, and close your eyes, and first, hear this text read again once more, but this time, as you hear it, listen for a word or phrase the feels like it is inviting you to pay attention.

Something that sticks out.

Hear our text again.

Now, notice that word or phrase that rings in your mind.

Take a moment, if you like, and write it down.

Use a notepad or the space in your bulletin.

Holding onto that word, not too firmly, but gently, let’s hear the text read another time.

As you hear it, wonder at what God might be inviting into, what might God be opening up for you today?

Good.

Listen to that still voice speaking to you.

[Silence]

As we enter Lent, we are also invited to this process of metamorphosis.

I have what may be troubling news to some of us — we must change.

In fact, we already are changing.

What once was will never be again.

Who are we?

What have we become?

What are we becoming?

If we look back on the last 3 or so years, have we not been through a time of immense change?

In a meeting last week, someone mentioned that in the COVID crisis, our congregation “catapulted into the 21st century.”

We figured out how to use technology more effectively to gather and share the Good News.

We stepped out of some of our old patterns of working together and took the leap to make changes in our community to help us connect in new ways.

And this work is not yet done in us, we have to acknowledge this.

But again, we ask, who is this?

And who are we?

If we are to be like Christ, then we are also meant to change, to turn into something new.

We are not meant to stay as we are.

Remember when Jesus calls the fisherman at Capernaum — he’s not calling them to stay, but rather become a whole new kind of fisherman.

There is something of the same DNA in them, but their task and orientation to the world is entirely different, new, metamorphosed.

And the same goes for us.

God is inviting us to something more, something greater.

We are meant to be changed, transformed, transfigured, like Christ.

Yesterday, I had the privilege of facilitating some work with congregational leaders and pastors who are a part of the Transforming Congregations Initiative at The Seattle School of Theology & Psychology.

I stood up in front of a large classroom of people and welcomed them into the day.

It struck me — I had now idea, 10 years ago, when I was in my second year of my Masters of Divinity, all the things that would happen in the coming decade.

And standing there, yesterday, I looked back in awe.

Here’s a quick list:

Stacy and I bought a house

We had our son Asher

I left my work in campus ministry

I completed my Masters of Divinity and Stacy, her Doctorate of Education

I was called to serve as Pastor here at St. James

Stacy and I had a number of significant health struggles

My parents retired and moved across the state

3 of my grandparents died.

The COVID-19 pandemic disrupted our whole way of life

I started my doctoral work

We reconvened for in person worship.

I ran a couple of 1/2 marathons.

And that’s not an exhaustive list.

But looking back, I am a changed person.

And of course I am.

That is what we are meant to do, to transform, to grow, to change, to be transfigured against the people we once were.

So, we look at Jesus and say, “who is this!?”

And in the same way, we must look at ourselves and ask, who are we?

Who are we becoming?

Are we transforming into more loving, welcoming, compassionate, justice-seeking people?

Or are we comfortable staying in the cocoon?