Rev. Eugene Nelson, Jr.
The Community Church of Sebastopol
February 3, 2008
Matthew 17:1-9
The light, the glowing skin and garments, the vision of Elijah and Moses, the cloud, the voice from heaven...What is going on here? What does it mean? If you are visiting the church today or maybe a newcomer to the church or the Christian faith, you have to be wondering, what kind of weird scripture is this? And if you have been a church member for twenty years and have never missed a Sunday, you have to be wondering, what kind of weird scripture is this? And if you are the preacher, standing up in front of God and everyone, trying to think of something to say, you are wondering, what kind of weird scripture is this?
I have to confess to you that if Peter came down from that mountain and e-mailed me with a detailed description of the Transfiguration he had just witnessed, I probably wouldn't finish reading that e-mail. Or, if I did, I would e-mail him back and ask for a copy of the video. I would be skeptical, I would want proof. In the words of Robert Mooty, a Disciples of Christ pastor in Virginia, "It is hard for us as children of the enlightenment, raised on scientific theory and proofs that can be tested and verified, to know what to do with stories such as Jesus' Transfiguration. They don't fit our normal categories or experiences, and so we want to ask questions. Questions like, did that really happen? Were the disciples just tricked by a freak storm? Did they have some experience that they then expanded into some kind of tall tale? And the answer to such questions is, we don't know. We don't know, not in some rational, scientific way." We just don't know. And so it's tempting for this preacher just to ignore the Transfiguration story, even though we find it in Matthew, Mark and Luke. Just ignore it, cruise on by it like it isn't even there. Except...
A pastor shares this story about a little pond at a church camp. "It's not much of a pond. Less than an acre I would guess. It's been there a long time at Craig Springs Camp, and looks like it could use a good dredging. It hadn't even been in use for anything until a few years ago when some folks undertook the task of replacing the rotting logs on the shore with benches. That's when it became a worship area again.
"So one night, the last night of Senior High Camp, the entire camp was gathered at the pond for the week's closing communion. And that is when she saw it. There's a cross on the other side of the pond. She says she was looking at the cross while the invitation to communion was being given. And she saw what looked like the figure of a person on that cross. She leaned over to the person next to her and asked, 'Do you see anything on the cross over there?' 'No, I don't,' came back the reply. But she saw it. And now, every time she goes to Craig Springs, she invites people to go to the pond with her so that she can tell them the story. Because that is when she decided she wanted to make a confession of her faith and be baptized. Because that's when she says she understood what it was all about."
Says this minister, "I was there at that communion service. But like her friend, I didn't see anything. But that doesn't mean that there wasn't something, or someone, on that cross. So, for the rest of her life, that pond will be a sacred place. And it will be sacred for all of us who have heard her story."
A sacred place, what in Ireland and, I suppose, elsewhere, they call a "thin place." A place where the veil between this world and the next is so sheer that you can almost see through, maybe even step through. A veil is parted, a door opens, and you see, you know. How it happens is a complete mystery to you, but it happens.
Now, I am a child of the enlightenment, a rational, logical man. My children might dispute that, but I like to think of myself as a rational, logical man. I like truth that can be tested and verified by the rational mind. And so, when I was 29 years old, I could fly right by this weird story of Jesus' Transfiguration. It's kind of interesting, but it couldn't happen - no way, no how. But now, just a few days beyond my 59th birthday, I find myself kind of getting lost in this story. It grabs me. The cloud, the light, the voice - I can't explain it to you. CSI Miami is not going to solve it for us. And it is tempting, to try to explain it, to analyze it, to paw through it for significance, explaining why so and so was there, why such and such was said and what it really means. After all, isn't that what we do with an experience that does not fit any of our established and rational categories? We just keep handling it until we wear it down to where it feels safe to us, and we can stay intelligent about it.
But the trouble with a young girl who has a vision at camp, or a Jew from Nazareth who goes up a mountain, is surrounded by light and encounters God, is that they resist all of our efforts at rational explanation. They open us to another truth, another reality, another way, and they're definitely not safe.
Do you want an explanation for the Transfiguration? I'll give you an explanation. On the mountain Jesus is confirmed as God's chosen, as the Messiah, not only by the voice of God, but also by Moses and Elijah, representing the law and the prophets. And the path he will follow, remember again, that after this wonderful, magical, mystical experience, he's going to come down off that mountain and head to Jerusalem for all the climatic events of Holy Week; the path he will follow - love, forgiveness, justice, non-violence, giving of himself, even to suffering and death - is the path of new life. Certainly not the kind of Messiah people expected, but the experience on the mountain tells us that his way is God's way. So there you have it, everything you ever wanted to know about the Transfiguration. A lot of material here for preaching. But you know, it just doesn't seem like it is enough. Somehow, for me today, for me this past week, it just isn't enough.
My mind drifts back to thin places. That's where we and the disciples find ourselves in this story. The mountain becomes a thin place. I'll take it a step further...Jesus himself becomes a thin place. He becomes the veil that is pulled aside, the door that opens into a whole new world. His life vibrates, it glows with a new reality. On the mountain Jesus steps out of ordinary consciousness and into the radiant presence of the sacred. Again, he becomes the doorway, the opening, to a new world, a new identity, a whole new way of seeing.
I recall the story of an old farmer who traveled from the country for his first trip to the zoo. There he encountered a wondrous sight - a giraffe, right there, in the flesh. For nearly an hour he stood and gazed at the giraffe, this strange and mysterious beast. Finally, he said, "I don't believe it's true. Nope, I just don't believe it." What do you do when you are confronted with a new world, a new reality, a new truth, a new way of seeing? My guess is that many of you have been there. You may not have told anybody, but I suspect many of you have been there. You've looked right at the giraffe. Am I right?
Maybe it was on a mountaintop, from which you looked down into a valley, a valley you had seen a hundred times, but somehow in that moment, from that mountain top you saw the whole world differently than you had ever seen it before. Maybe it was here in worship. It was a Sunday, like any other Sunday, but on this day, for whatever reason, you just felt it. The presence of God very, very close - not a belief in or a knowledge of God, but God right here, right now. Maybe you were by yourself at home, or on a walk, maybe Vesper Point at Camp Caz - for just a moment, there was a shift, and there it was, a mysterious intrusion into your life, a glimpse of another world. You couldn't explain it, but you knew it was true. How did you feel? What did you do?
Robin Myers, a UCC pastor and author, writes, "Preachers are too eager to make sure that everyone understands, that everyone gets it. This inevitably means that too much of the obvious is explained and too little of the mysterious is described." Well, he's got me. I'm, one of those preachers who likes to explain things, I want to know, when you go home, that you understand. But, today, in response to this text, you know, I'm not really looking for an explanation. Instead I'm asking that we just remain open to the possibility of the mysterious, of something new, something holy, intruding into our lives. I am asking that we entertain the possibility of a reality, a truth, which is outside the bounds of ordinary consciousness, and that we remain open to following wherever that reality, that truth, might call us.
A story told by a college chaplain: "A while back a young man met with me and he began the conversation by saying, 'Look, you're sort of an expert on God, right? Well, some things have been happening to me in my life, coincidences, and I am going to tell you about them. And I hope you will tell me that this has nothing to do with God. But, then again, I am afraid it might, so here goes.' Says the chaplain, ‘Then he told me a series of coincidences and happenstances, weird revelations and realizations. When he finished, I said to him, 'Well, in my expert opinion, this all sounds suspiciously like the voice of God to me. I think God is intruding into your life, attempting to get you to do something for him.' 'Oh, no,' the young man said, ' I was afraid you were going to say that!'"
That's the hard part, as I said earlier, that's what makes it unsafe - coming upon a thin place, seeing God's will and way in our world, a will and a way so different from our way - and then daring to step through, daring to say yes. As a philosopher said hundreds of years ago, "The human, by not understanding, makes a world." Be careful of those thin places. Be careful, look what happens. The story of Jesus' Transfiguration, which just a few minutes ago seemed so strange, so weird, has become a story about us.