Transfiguration Sunday

Richard Davenport February 27, 2022 - The Transfiguration of Our Lord Hebrews 3:1-6 The author of Hebrews is taking on the daunting task of explaining how Jesus relates to us and to the rest of the Trinity. If Jesus were just God or just man, things would be a lot simpler to understand. But Jesus somehow fits entirely in both worlds and that muddies things up quite a bit. What does it mean that Jesus is both God and man? What does that do for us? Does it really make a difference? The author wants us to see how important it is that Jesus is both. A house and a builder, both receiving glory, but one receives more than the other. This illustration reminds me of a friend I have back in Michigan who worked for a number of years on a construction crew that built houses. He said the pay was good but the work could be back-breaking. it wasn't really the kind of work he wanted to be doing. It's just what was available at the time. Though it's a useful, even essential job, this kind of work doesn't feel like it carries much glory. A guy tells you he works as a building contractor and you'll probably just nod and say, "Oh, that's interesting," even though you don't really mean it. The houses also probably don't hold much glory either. Sure, those families eager to move into their new homes I'm sure are grateful for the work done by the contractors, but few others are going to really going to take the time to look at the house and admire it to the point where they'll track down the builders and congratulate them or hire them to do more work. I'm sure it does happen from time to time, but the chances of a building crew winning some kind of worldwide fame because of a house they built are pretty small. That's why I don't think that's where the author is going with this idea. Instead I think the author has something very different in mind. Back in the northern Detroit suburbs where I used to live, there were a number of cities clustered together where the extremely wealthy people lived. Big, lavish houses that sat on numerous acres. Back in one of the woody areas of one of these cities sat a big ranch-style house that sprawled under the trees. All red brick and red wood, with unique architectural nuances and designs. I'm no expert on construction or design, so I wouldn't be able to tell you much by looking at it, but I'm sure those who know how to see those sorts of things would be able to look at the house and tell you right away it was designed by America's most famous architect: Frank Lloyd Wright. I've seen a couple of homes designed by him and, while I wouldn't know who the architect was by looking at them, I do know they were quite distinctive. It's almost as if the house itself is more valuable, more interesting because of the person who created it. Living in a Frank Lloyd Wright home comes with its own kind of prestige and the house itself is almost guaranteed to be listed on the various historic registers and that sort of thing. If not for the name, it would be just a house. It may be a fancy and stylish house. It may have all sorts of nice touches and it might be designed for luxuriant living, but it wouldn't be a Frank Lloyd Wright house. His name completely changes how we view the house. Even a house that had been allowed to get run down and dilapidated still has that special quality if it is known to be a Frank Lloyd Wright house. When we change the subject slightly to talk about churches, many of the same ideas still hold true. When you look at some of the mega churches around the country, or even here in our own community, those churches that don't have sanctuaries so much as they have auditoriums that seat hundreds, even thousands of people, the churches that are a constant beehive of activity, programs, networks, classes and other things, those kinds of churches have a magnetism to them. You find people gravitating to these churches specifically because of their size. The programs they have, the look and feel of the sanctuary or auditorium or whatever they call it, the messages they convey, all become a draw for newcomers. Someone new to town driving around sees New Life, Community Bible, Eastside Baptist or any of the other big churches around town and it makes them curious. They must be doing something right if they are that big. But sadly, that isn't always true. Many churches can hardly be bothered to talk about Jesus. Many pastors will shy away from talking about sin and the need for forgiveness, much less how that forgiveness is a free gift from God. Many churches are really more like social clubs than places where God's grace is actually being received. That's good and all, and I'm sure many of the members there truly appreciate some of the things those churches do, but if that is the extent of what they do, there isn't much there to get excited about after all. It may feel like a home to those people, but it doesn't have anything more to set it apart than any other building might have for those who use it. When King Solomon had finished building the temple in Jerusalem, he held a grand celebration to dedicate the temple for use. A part of this celebration was a lengthy and rather solemn prayer recorded in 2 Chronicles. In a portion of that prayer, he says, "But will God indeed dwell with man on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, how much less this house that I have built! Yet have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea, O LORD my God, listening to the cry and to the prayer that your servant prays before you, that your eyes may be open day and night toward this house, the place where you have promised to set your name, that you may listen to the prayer that your servant offers toward this place. And listen to the pleas of your servant and of your people Israel, when they pray toward this place. And listen from heaven your dwelling place, and when you hear, forgive." The temple built to God was a marvel. Covered in cedar, overlaid with gold, carvings and decorations everywhere. All of that is nice and all, but Solomon doesn't talk about any of that. Instead, his focus is entirely on whose house it is, on the God who has set his name there and what he will do with that house. Though Solomon constructed the house, he was not its architect. God designed every aspect of the house and it was all built to convey the purpose of the house. It was the dwelling place of God on earth, God in the midst of his people, God who, though he reigns as king over all creation, chooses to grant grace and mercy to poor sinners. Despite all of the work done on the building, despite all of the precious metals and carvings, the temple would be just a fancy building if God had not signed his name to it. It would be a place to be admired, to take pictures of, but little else. Looking at our church, and remembering that a church is not just a building, that the building is secondary to the people who gather, we may not have a big and impressive edifice like Eastside Baptist. We may not pack the sanctuary to the rafters each week. You might think we would never think of ourselves the way those congregations do. Yet, the danger is still very much there. We look at ourselves and what good, upstanding people we are, how helpful and considerate we are, how much we try and help those in need in our neighborhood, all of the things we do to make our name known in the community. We get the impression that it is we who make this place great and glorious. But it is not. Without God's name associated with this place and with this group of people, without God's presence here among us, we are no different than any other social club, any other charitable organization. God is the architect and builder of this house, everything it does and everyone who is in it. This is God's house. It belongs to him. We aren't even the residents in this house, we are the guests. This house was not built for our glory, but for his. Transfiguration Sunday reminds us that underneath all of the common, ordinary flesh and blood of Jesus, God is very much there. It's that misguided belief that this church is all about us that often leads us to seek out the things that will bring us glory, instead of focusing on what brings him glory. We try and steal his glory for ourselves. For that, he is within his rights and authority to cast us out of the house and bar us from ever using his house again. He can and should do exactly that. But, when Jesus reveals his glory on the mountaintop, it is not because he wants to overwhelm his followers with his power and authority, his glory and majesty. Instead, he shows them that he exercises that authority by giving himself in our stead, setting aside his own glory to pay for our own selfishness. We see his glory and ask for forgiveness for thinking we deserve that same glory. He sets aside his glory and gives it to us instead as his own free gift. We are glorified through him and because of him. We reflect on this day especially how we go from the glorious Jesus on the mountaintop this Sunday, to the beginning Lent this upcoming week. Our savior demonstrates that glory is not in lifting ourselves up haughtiness, but in kneeling down in service, by offering forgiveness instead of reveling in our selfish pride. This is who our God and savior is, and who he calls us to be. This is how we are saved from ours sins, from ourselves, not in glory and might, but in life-giving, life-offering service.