Exodus 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-36
The Rev. Paul D. Allick, St. George’s Episcopal Church, February 14, 2010
Why are we here today? Why are we worshipping God, following Christ? Why are we here practicing Christianity when we could be home reading the paper and staying in our pajamas until noon?
For some of us our religion is cultural: this is what we do, it’s important for our children. For others the Gospel is about possessing the correct moral stance. Whether we are on the Left or the Right, we see religion as a way of asserting moral authority. Maybe we come here to please God: if we do all things just right, God will love us and won’t suffer.
All of these reasons are valid. In and of themselves they make sense: traditions can be good, keeping good moral order can be an admirable pursuit. We could do worse things than trying to live a life pleasing to God.
But, we also know from experience that these reasons can cause brokenness: whose morality is correct? Following traditions can lead to all sorts of arguments. We argue over how to do the liturgy: what language or music to employ. These reasons are debatable and they are at the core of our religious conflicts as we try to live together in peace.
I suggest another reason for being here: I want to know how to exist. I want to understand why no matter how good I try to be bad things still happen in my life. I want to know why when I pray about hope and happiness I still confront illness and death. Don’t we all deep down want to know why we exist at all?
Today’s Gospel can help us with these questions. As Peter, James and John witness the glory of Jesus’ Transfiguration there is another side. Yes, being with Jesus is glorious but underneath there is still struggle, there is still death. This episode happens eight days after Peter has confessed that Jesus is the Messiah. After Peter makes this confession, Jesus begins to teach the disciples that he is going to suffer and die and that they must be willing to take up their cross.
Peter identifies Jesus as the Christ; Jesus teaches about the cross. This is the heart of the Gospel: dying and rising; falling and getting back up. Isn’t that the story of existence: falling into a bad time and then rising back up?
In this glorious and mystical vision, Jesus is talking to Elijah and Moses. Elijah represents the prophets; Moses represents the Law. And what are they talking about? They are discussing Jesus’ departure which he is about to accomplish at Jerusalem. In their glory and dazzling supernatural appearance, they discuss Jesus’ death. In the original Greek his departure can literally mean his exodus; in the King James version it is translated as his decease.
Moses and Elijah know the ways of God. While Jesus’ disciples are having such a hard time grasping the meaning of Jesus’ death, Moses and Elijah understand that to accomplish the full significance of the resurrection, Jesus will first face the cross.
Elijah knew about this. His life was marked with stress and fear. Elijah was chased and persecuted most of his life. But in the end he was taken up to heaven.
Moses knew struggle and disappointment. He knew about fear and death. In our lesson from Exodus today this is Moses second trip down the mountain with the Tablets. The first time he found the people worshipping a Golden Calf. Why did they worship an idol? Because they were sick of suffering and sick of waiting for God to fix things. On this second trip down the people see in Moses’ face that he has been with God. Moses kept at it. He pleaded with God to forgive the people over and over.
Jesus couldn’t have better company while he awaited his departure, his exodus, his decease.
In our Opening Prayer today we remembered that before his passion (his decease) Jesus was revealed in glory upon the holy mountain. We prayed that beholding the light of his countenance we would have the strength to bear our cross.
Why are we here today? We could be here to accept existence as it is: we suffer and we heal. This is life and Jesus lives it with us. We live in the promise that no matter the pain around us or in us we can live. In the face of doubt, illness, depression, stress, anxiety, greed, resentment and war, we can choose to live. The struggle itself leads to the healing and the new life.
Theologian Karl Barthe wrote this about the transfiguration of suffering, “Our tribulation, without ceasing to be tribulation, is transformed. We must suffer, as we suffered before, but our suffering is no longer a passive perplexity…but is transformed into a pain which is fruitful, creative, full of power and promise…the road which is impassable has been made known to us in the crucified and risen Lord.”(Commentary on Romans) To Believe is to Pray, editor James E. Griffis, Cowley Publications Cambridge * Boston, MA 1996)
We are here today to be transfigured. Our traditions and our moral certitudes will not transform us: our very lives of ups and downs will transform us. Like the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ, suffering becomes new life. We are here to learn how to truly live and breathe in the midst of existence. An existence that can so often seem brutal, boring, stressful or meaningless becomes our very salvation.
