Seeing Things Differently - Transfiguration Sunday 2022

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

On the final Sunday before the season of Lent, the church remembers the story of Jesus on the mountaintop, where he is revealed to Peter, John, and James, as the Chosen one of God.

I love getting to this point in the liturgical cycle and wrestling with this text. I love the invitation the story of the Transfiguration gives us, this invitation to see differently, to take the prism of how we make meaning of the world, and turn it, just a bit, or entirely, to see how the light of God refracts through it in yet another new way, bringing light through the cut stone of struggle that is our world and life.

In this text, we reach a highpoint in the narrative of Scripture. From one angle, we see this as the culmination of the prophetic tradition of the Hebrew people. In the previous chapters, Jesus has firmly situated himself in the role of Messiah, offering responses to John the Baptist about his fulfilment of the promises of bringing healing to Israel. Jesus has stepped into the prophetic role since his first teaching in the synagogue we heard weeks back and now is revealed to his closest disciples alongside two pillar figures of the Hebrew prophetic tradition, Moses and Elijah. Jesus is a prophet, confirmed before our eyes.

From another angle, we see the rehearsing of Jesus’ baptism narrative, where John the Baptist met him in the waters of the Jordan River and upon emerging, Jesus is showered with the light of God from above, accompanied by words of “chosenness” and “belovedness.” Today’s text mirrors that narrative, where the companions of Jesus are now awakened from their sleep, baptized in their own way anew to seeing Jesus as he truly is. Their sight changes.

From yet another angle, we see the overshadowing of God and the enshrouding of the mountaintop in a cloud as a reminder of God’s presence on Mount Sinai and with the people of Israel through their wilderness journey from Egypt to the Promised Land. In ancient cultures of the middle east, people witnessed oracles and wonders when enveloped in a mist or cloud — this is the sight of revelation. Jesus’ earthly ministry is unveiled in the eyes of the disciples. Through the veiling of the cloud, the truth is unveiled and laid bare before them. Jesus is bringing a new law down from the mountain, a new way of understanding all that God is doing and all of God’s majesty and power.

And from still another angle, we return to the rhythm of the church year and the bookending that this story offers us. From the announcement from the Angel Gabriel to Mary in a blinding vision, to the heralding of angels to the shepherds in the fields and the wise sages on their journey, this whole section of the liturgical cycle of teachings has led us from miraculous birth, through baptism, and now to a coronation, a crowning of Christ the Lord, an unveiling of his ultimate purposes. From here forward, it is a journey to the cross. We enter into Lent knowing the glory of Christ as we see it before us in blinding, brilliant light. And we move forward with a haunted expectation — what has been revealed here, in this text today, is a foreshadowing of glory, but it is also an image of what difficult challenges lay ahead. Luke’s gospel pivots here to the more urgent, active ministry of Jesus that points to the cross. The prologue is over. Now, we move in. We see all that has happened as building to this moment…and now…we move forward.

We move forward with Jesus and his disciples as they begin their journey to Jerusalem and to the fulfilment of Jesus’ ministry.

We move forward into the time in the church where we are called embrace our own discipleship and confront our own frailty and see our own need for transfiguration. We move forward into a time where we must count up the cost of what it means to follow Jesus. Will we go to the end of the road with him? Will we give up our comforts for the hope of new life in Christ? Will we fast and pray, not for need of outward affirmation of our piety, but for a deep inner turning of our hearts to be like Jesus in his compassion for the poor, the hurting, the oppressed, those in need of the fundamental liberation found only in a setting from of our hearts from the bondage of the powers of this world and let go into the glory of life lived in humility, service, and love that this freedom brings.

Today, we must see things differently.

Yet, our world invites us to see things the same old same old. Same fights, same struggles, same war, different day. Same judgements, same biases, same assumptions.

War is breaking out in Europe again this week. We’ve seen the news of bombings in Ukraine as Russia invades and begins an unprovoked conflict on land of a sovereign nation.

We have known war, we have witnessed conflict, we have watched it on the news or experienced it on the front lines. And we know that war is never the answer. War is pain, harm, sacrifice, a very last resort, a curse and burden we have had to witness and swallow too many times.

Today, we must see things differently. We must let our eyes and our minds and our hearts be transfigured to see this world and its conflict anew.

To see this conflict in history is to see an ongoing quest for power and land holdings that go back hundreds of years. But we mustn’t take the present conflict for granted or write it off as yet another border squabble. We must see this as a provocation and taunt of power.

For those who follow Jesus, we must resist being swept up into narratives of shock and awe that seek to affront us and cause us to demonize. Instead, we must see differently and look for how God invites us to speak and act for liberation, finding the awe and wonder of God that ends conflict and brings justice.

We must see differently, see fully, as well. We mustn’t let ourselves be lulled into apathy and forget all the unseen atrocities and unspoken cries for help of the people of Ukraine or Russia. We must let ourselves see what is hard to see — so that we might let the fire of justice burn in our bones and be inspired to seek redemption for those who are hurting.

We must see conflict in our world differently than we have ever before. It may be the same tune, but what it invites us to now, as a people, must be different.

With our eyes on a conflict half way around the world, we must also let our sight change to see our role in conflict and war here at home.

It might be easier for us to stand up and speak for the plight of the Ukrainian people than it is, for instance, for us to stand up and speak against the systemic oppression and genocide we have inflicted upon indigenous people here in the United States. In our history, we have seized sovereign land in the name of empire. How might this conflict in Ukraine invite us to lament our own country’s complicity with hostile takeovers of land? How might our solidarity with an oppressed people in Europe invite us to make common cause with the oppressed here in our own back yard?

How might this conflict also put into perspective the many other struggles we are captivated by? When the drums of war beat, can we, as followers of Jesus, be invited to seek peace, even when it is a counternarrative?

How about the unrest and discord caused by false truths and conspiracies about the health crisis the world has faced these two years? How might we see this differently, put in the context of global conflict? How might we be invited to set down our weapons of certainty, weapons of liberty, weapons of privilege, to fight no longer, to find unity and to heal our fractured world?

Friends — we must learn to see things differently.

I’ll close by returning us to this vantage point as we stand overlooking the season of Lent from the mountaintop of the Transfiguration.

These next six weeks, we are invited to take seriously the ways we are formed and disciplined in our faith. We will be looking at the Apostles’ Creed each week, talking about how creeds, confessions, and practices of discipleship shape us, train us, align us to God’s way.

Discipleship isn’t about perfection. It isn’t about doing the best or fasting for accolades or being the most devoted to our faith. Discipleship is about being trained, healed, made ready for the work of justice and restoration that we must get on about. And lent is that season for training ourselves.

What do you need to see differently right now? I’ve named a number of potential conflicts and people that we may need to reevaluate in the weeks ahead.

How are you being invited to see Jesus differently today?

I want to encourage you, this year, to take seriously a discipline of prayer, fasting, scripture reading, service, or care for others and commit to it. We do these things, practice these ways of being, in order to be formed and changed into people who actually can see differently. So, how will you make this a priority this year?

As with every time we confess our sins, when we approach the work of disciplining our faith, we must rest assured that God is before us. God is opening our eyes, shining a light on our path, helping us to see the next steps. So please, hear this invitation to discipline as a grace, not a burden. Hear it as a way of leaning into the healing love of God, of following the prescription for being made whole. Hear it as a loving invitation to see the world with greater compassion, greater sense of lament for injustice, greater clarity for our common purpose as the church as peacemakers and repairers of the breach.

People of God — see the magnificence of the Christ today.

People of God — see the sorrow of our hurting, conflicted world.

And people of God — see your part in standing, with Christ and with each other, as one people, united in love, mercy, and grace which makes all things new.

Amen.

See your annoying neighbor differently, see their struggle, see their pain, see their longing for connection, see their hope for friendship.

See your children differently, see their attempts to make you proud, see their hope for a life and career that brings meaning, see their busyness and stand with them in support and care.

See your parents differently, see their missteps as part of their own growth, see their desire to raise you up well, to love you when they struggle to know how to love themselves, see their hope for you.

See our world in crisis differently. See it as the opportunity for new ways of living, see it as the way forward, see the crisis as resistance to healing, see the need for healing and peacemaking in the hard work of banding together with people we don’t always agree with, see our shared purpose.

Closing with Peter’s Words

Peter bears witness...

The New Revised Standard Version Eyewitnesses of Christ’s Glory

Eyewitnesses of Christ’s Glory

(Mt 17:5; Mk 9:7; Lk 9:35)

16 For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. 17 For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” 18 We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.

19 So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. 20 First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, 21 because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.

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