Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. (Mark 9:2 NRSV)
As Jesus was transfigured so he calls us to ongoing transformation from who we are now into the fullness of life God offers. We will never be transfigured in quite the same way, so I use transformation for those changes we are called to make. In the transfiguration of Jesus the divinity of his nature shines through his humanity. The transfiguration stands also to remind us that we are made in the image of God. Lent can be a time for us to focus on letting more of our Godliness shine through. Not by denying our humanity, but by accepting our humanity fully. The Church fathers struggled to speak of the relationship of Jesus’ humanity and divinity and they could come up with nothing better than Jesus as fully human, fully divine. In living fully, as Jesus exemplified for us, we will also be living divinely. In living fully we also live divinely.
There is a disturbing story of another type of transfiguration from the life of Leonardo Da Vinci. Leonardo searched the town for a models to sit for his famous fresco of The Last Supper. When he looked for someone to sit as the character of Judas Iscariot he found just the right person - a man whose worn features mapped a life of despair and disillusionment. As Leonardo went to work a strange feeling came over him. "I get the feeling we have met before," said the artist. "Yes," replied the man. "I have sat here before. I was you model for Jesus. Since then I have fallen on bad times and have lost family, friends - everything".
A positive, transformative approach to life challenges the stark distinction between humanity and divinity - between God and us, between the sacred and the ordinary. This challenge is at the heart of Jesus teaching. I’m not saying that we are to become little Gods and masters of our own destiny. We know from experience where such blatant selfishness leads. Living fully the life given to us means living close to God with an awareness of our creation in God’s likeness and image. The Season of Lent is a time to explore this closeness more deeply.
In living fully we also live divinely. These words may sound strange at first. They appear to cross a boundary set in the very reality of existence. Many of the great religions of the world tell us the realms of humanity and divinity are separate. That is why Jesus had to come - to lead us from one to the other. You get into the heavenly realm through faith in Christ which is the only way to be released from the judgement that hangs over each of us. This is a very narrow way to look at our faith. I’m not denying that scriptural support can be found for such a position. I’m saying that such a stark interpretation of the words of Scripture is not the final word on the nature of our God.
It can be impressive to meet someone who knows the Scriptures and can speak convincingly and simply of their meaning. We must look deeper, both into the Scripture and into ourselves if we are to be transformed with Christ. On the mount of transfiguration Jesus is joined by two towering figures of the Scripture, Moses who represents the Law and Elijah who represents the prophets. The Law shrouds the ten Commandments that Moses brought down from Mt Sinai. Elijah the great prophet who confounded the priests of other gods and confronted his king without fear. Even these towering personalities are out shone by the person of Jesus. The voice from the cloud says this is my beloved son listen to him.
The disciples on the mountain that day were dumbfounded. Peter is often caricatured as wanting to freeze this great moment by building dwellings or monuments. But rather than expending energy freezing the moment Peter, James and John would be transformed themselves, from fishermen to preachers whose witness to Christ would have a transformative effect on the whole world. Be transformed this Lent!
There are many barriers to our transformation. The greatest dangers are not the external ones, the threat of war or the failure of the structures of society, although these play a part, but an insidious internal one: fundamentalism. I had better say what I mean when I use this word because people call one another a "fundamentalists" when they do not see things in the same way.
Fundamentalism has built three monuments of its own. For me the three monuments of fundamentalism are the need to see everything as either/or, secondly to see Scripture as a rule book, and thirdly to treat those who are different as enemies.
First is the desire to see everything as either/or. Either the bible is true or it isn’t, either God exists or God doesn’t, either you are Christian or you aren’t, either I am right and you are wrong, or you are right and I am wrong. Those who have such an attitude would find transformation difficult, in fact they may well see it as unnecessary. Either I am saved or I am not. When I think of this attitude I think of the times in the Gospels that Jesus our Lord seems surprised at the responses of others to him. These encounters may have been moments of transformation even for him. He used those encounters as examples of great faith.
Even St Paul in a moment of inspired humility admitted that we see now through the glass dimly, but then, [and only then], face to face. Imagine if Peter had done no more than build three monuments the Mount of transfiguration and failed to head the voice from the cloud to listen to Jesus. Another way to see life is both/and but that can go too far in the other direction. We need to make decisions and assign different values to all the information we receive, but often we do not have sufficient information to make decisions and we must live with some uncertainty.
One of the results of either/or thinking is to see the Bible as a rule book to be followed to the letter. An obvious example: The Bible says the world was created in six days therefore it must be true and if science says anything different then science must be wrong. There are many who have tried to bridge the differences in this sort of narrow thinking. They have seen in the Genesis story a pattern that roughly follows how things might have come about even if it took 600 million years not six days. For some such a compromise would be a denial of the authority of the whole Bible. The Scriptures lead us to God, they challenge us when we think we have learnt all there is to know about God, they recall us when we stray, and they sustain us in times of need, so the Scripture are much more than a rule book to keep us on the "straight and narrow". I prefer the awe and wonder of the psalmist:
O LORD, our Sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens.
Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger.
When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
The third monument of fundamentalism is the tendency to see "the other" as the enemy. In this case the other is a term used to describe people ideas that are different. The "other" can be someone with a different coloured skin, religion, or allegiance to a different football club. In times of social stress hated of the other seems to really flair up. Sometimes the most bitter disputes are internal disputes over difference within groups or families. The Bible notes the tension between the Samaritans and the Jews. The Samaritans have all but disappeared now, but they were a group that emerged from the same historical roots as the Jews. They chose to worship at a place other than Jerusalem and had other differences of belief that caused great animosity. In the light of this enmity Jesus’ story of the good Samaritan must have been deeply disturbing to his hearers. In response to the question "Who is my neighbour?" Jesus told the story known to us as the Good Samaritan. For the Good Jew there could be no such thing as a Good Samaritan. The terms were mutually exclusive. For Jesus our neighbour is not just the friend who live close by, but the "other" in need, whom ever he or she may be.
Maybe sometimes things are a bit more like this: A man had been wandering in a forest for several days, unable to find his way out. Finally, he saw someone else approaching in the distance. His heart was filled with joy. "Finally I’ll be rescued!" he thought. When he got nearer he said to the other man, "Thank goodness you found me, I’ve been wandering around here for days and I can’t find the way out!" The other said to him, "I’m lost too, I don’t know the way out either. But I can tell you this, don’t go the way I’ve come because that is not the way. Now let us find the way out together." [Wharton, P.J. Stories and Parables for Preachers and Teachers, New York: Paulist Press, 1986, p.13]
The three monuments of fundamentalism: either/or thinking, a narrow interpretation of Scripture, and seeing "the other" as the enemy are barriers to our transformation. Rather than beginning in certainty our transformation begins with something of the bewilderment of Peter and the other disciples. Why else would we see transformation as necessary? Let us allow God to transform us this Lent.
