Sermons
Transfigurational Gospel
The Rev. Rob McCann
Interim Rector, St, Matthew's Episcopal Church
February 26, 2006
The Last Sunday of Epiphany
It is good that we are here.
We arrived at 7 o'clock in the morning in the Jezreel Valley, getting there early in order to beat the heat of a typical summer day. Everywhere we looked there were people hawking their Transfiguration figs and Transfiguration figures of Peter, James and John; Moses, Elijah and Jesus. The oft-told story of this feast had been "packaged for the pilgrim" as a souvenir from the Holy Land.
As we waited at the foot of the road to make our way up Mount Tabor we were gagged by continuous clouds of dust. We were noised-out by the sound of screeching brakes from other "sharuts"- Arab equivalents of shared taxi cabs commonly called six-packs. The six of us hopped in one of them; held on, with at least one of us braking from the back seat.
It was a dizzying ride in endless circles, being pushed to the edge by other taxis catapulting downward. With a sign of relief and wonder we were finally on top of the world. The plateau was a beautiful expanse overlooking the deeply-patterned planted valley below.
Two monasteries dominate this upper area - both commemorating the story of the Transfiguration. Here was one of those rare events of the Torah and the New Testament actually touching. Let your mind imagine the scene. You don't travel in this kind of company very often. That is why it is such an important text and context. And so the very feast that attempts to bring a wide picture into resolution - Old and New; East and West stumbles over such possibilities.
Unfortunately also, Christianity, in one more lost ecumenical opportunity, insisted on "separate but equal" buildings for the Orthodox and Roman Catholics, as is so often in the Holy Land.
In spite of all the waste that could have been unified - there were clusters of people singing in their national and ethnic groupings - sometime battling each other for top sound. Others were walking in quiet; or photographing one more time for that future gathering of unsuspecting friends.
It is good that we are here.
What is so special about a pilgrimage to any such site is the occasion to spend time in reflection. Perhaps, this story is so well-known because we hear it three times a year. It is even more highly regarded in the Eastern church because of the framing of what could have been. It could have been a portend of future relations with Judaism. Instead its closely-bound message was split asunder before the turn of the century. Our Wednesday night Lenten Series will deal with the such continuity; confrontation and separation.
I like what T. S. Lewis says about any journey of purpose or pilgrimage.
"If your came this way, taking any route, starting from anywhere at any time or at any season, it would be the same: you would have to put off, instruct yourself, or inform curiosity or carry report.
You are here to kneel where prayer has been valid. And prayer is more than an order of words, the conscious occupation of the praying mind, or the sound of the voice praying.
And what the dead had no speech for, when living, they can tell you, being dead: The communication of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living. Here, the intersection of the timeless moment is here and nowhere, never and always.
We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."
Ironically, mountain top experiences don't have to take place in rarified atmospherea. For the Spirit is available to everyone who is open to the high-top surprises of God. The insights that we receive in our moments of reflections are gifts that can alter our lives and those around us.
It is good that we are here.
How human of Peter to try to make the experience permanent by hanging with the clouds of glory. But like peace itself it calls up tenuousness.
Whenever I think of the Transfiguration, however, I also have to, in all honesty, confront the dark side of life. For this venerable feast is actually commemorated on August 6th.
And, I am reminded of the pain and agony of any war but here, particularly, remember Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. It was like yesterday for some of us. The clouds of glory and the clouds of radiation sit together within the same frame of reference. Ghostly and ghastly together! The smearing of the holy.
Giving in to violence in our personal lives and, consequently, in our international lives has repercussions that get played out on the universe. It makes doubly hard the peace journey back - if there is a way back.
We can control very little of what goes on in the world, even within our own family or with ourselves. Peace begins its journey one step at a time. We can, however, monitor what goes on in our hearts. The grace of God can do the rest.
It is good that we are here.
As the oft-told summary story of Jesus' life goes - all set in three phrases:
Love your God.
Love yourself.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
When you think about it we need to come into the company of our neighbor as friend and, occasionally, as enemy in order for Christianity to be tried and found true.
It's the only way of following the journey of the Transfigured One in all his transforming love.
I'm so glad that you are here.
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