St. Charles' Episcopal Church – St. Charles, IL

The Last Sunday after the Epiphany – Last Epiphany – Year A RCL

Sunday February 3, 2008 – Boy Scout Sunday

Exodus 24:12-18; Psalm 2; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9

Rev. William R. Nesbit, Jr.

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

What a way to end Epiphany. We began with the far off light of a star and we're ending with the face of Jesus shining like the sun. It is fitting that we end on the mountaintop. The season of light will end on Wednesday as we plunge into the valley, the darkness of lent.

The transfiguration is one of those occurrences in the Gospel that has fallen out of favor. It's too Hollywood. Smoke and mirrors. Our modern sensibilities struggle to explain it away. What really happened up there? Who's vision was it really? Was it the thin air that made the apostles hallucinate? Was this really just a misplaced resurrection story, or a literary foreshadowing?

I prefer to let the story stand as is. We weren't there after all. We can never know what really happened. All we have to go on is the Gospel account. Clearly this episode was important to the early church, as it appears in all of the synoptic Gospels. What might it be about this story that made it so important? It is an important point to ponder. Christ himself, I think, gives us a clue. "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." WHAT?!?

If this story is so important, why the injunction to keep it quiet?

Well... as near as I can tell, it looks like a case of simple practicality. If you can't get your mind around the resurrection, don't waste time with the transfiguration. The mystery of the transfiguration is, after all, just one small part of the greater mystery of Christ. This story startles us and grabs our attention, but even more it points us toward the deeper reality of Christ.

What are we to make of this Jesus, the anointed one, the Son of God. Like the disciples, it is easy for us to live with Jesus the man, an intimate friend and companion on the journey; a teacher of wisdom. And even when the road gets hard and our journey leads to Jerusalem and the cross we know we have a steadfast companion in Jesus. We may need to deny him on occasion, if the risk to ourselves gets too great, but he'll understand. He loves us for who we are. And even when his face shines with the light of the sun, it is a face of warmth and compassion and understanding.

This is the comfortable Jesus. The safe Jesus. The good shepherd we meet as a child who watches over us and protects us. It is this comfortable Jesus that was obliterated in the cloud on Mount Tabor that day. In the transfiguration we see the Messiah, the Son of Man, revealed in all his righteousness. Sooner or later in our journey with Christ we all have our mountaintop experience. And this safe and comfortable Jesus that we go to church to worship on Christmas and Easter, or on Sundays when it is convenient, is transfigured for us; Right in front of us. The bright white cloud of God's presence surrounds us, hiding us from the apprehensions of the everyday world and the word and will of God speaks clearly in our hearts. And the church becomes not a place we go to, but something we are. It is a time of joy and apprehension, excitement and terror. In a moment, we know! In a flash, we are different. In an instant, we are changed. Like the Christ we worship, we too become transfigured. And we are never the same again.

And then Christ comes to us and touches us and gently says, "Tell no one until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead." This is the crux of the matter. This is why, I think, this story is so important. Tell no one? TELL NO ONE? Why? For crying out loud, we have been transfigured! We want to tell the world. We want to shout it from the mountain top! But shouting does no good. Shouting only scares people away. We must wait for the cloud of God's transfiguring grace. And waiting is hard.

One of the hardest things I had to learn as a new priest is that regardless of the ontological change conferred on me at ordination, I cannot make one person believe. Ever. No matter how hard I want to or need to, and no matter how hard I try. And neither can you. We can lead them to the cross, and we can wait with them, but faith comes from God. It is the work of the Holy Spirit. Now that doesn't let us off the hook. There is something else for us to do. Indeed there is plenty for us to do. We can leave the mountain and go back into the valley and let the light of our transfiguration shine upon others. Not to light them up, or change them, but simply to let them see in the dark. And we can invite them out of the darkness to the mountain. That is our work. It's amazing how simple it is, really. It is principally the job of hospitality.

For us in the church, Lent is a time when we look into the dark. For those outside the church it is a darkness they live in all the time. Many of them know nothing else. As we enter this season of Lent and leave the brightness of Epiphany behind, I would remind you to turn your own lights on, it's dark out there. Don't be afraid. Go out there and look around in the dark. You'll be amazed how crowded it is out there. See if you can't find someone out there. Someone who might like a little fresh air and light. Go ahead and invite them to come with you to your mountain. Introduce them to a whole new world. They might be someone you work with, or play with. Someone you care about. Remember, that like the wise men who started Epiphany, You have a treasure to share. A treasure of surpassing value. Don't be afraid. You can do it. You need only invite them to church. You don't have to make them say yes. You don't have to open their eyes. You don't have to open their hearts. You don't have to bring down a cloud from heaven. That is the work of the Spirit. That's God's work. All you have to do is go out and find them and invite them. Jesus invited Peter, James and John, and look what came of that! Who knows who you might find. So what do you say? Are you up to it?