February 25, 2001 |
See also: [Year C Archive] |
Exodus
34:29-35
2
Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Psalm
99
Luke
9:28-43
This Sunday I have chosen to follow the lectionary readings of my own denominations, the United Church of Christ and the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and other mainstream denominations. Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Episcopalian churches celebrate the Transfiguration during Pentecost.
Regardless of the date of the Transfiguration, it is essential to recognize the rhythm in spiritual experience between the undramatic spirituality of ordinary time and the dramatic revelations of God, whose uniqueness gives perspective to the rest of our lives.
Exodus
34:29-35
Whenever
I read this passage, I am reminded of Martin Luther King’s prophetic
words, "I have been to the mountaintop. I have seen the promised
land." Though he did not make it to the promised land, King’s
mountaintop experience inspired his own struggle for social justice and
still serves as an inspiration for social prophets in our time.
Whitehead notes that a religious tradition finds its inspiration in the dramatic and unrepeatable experiences of women and men. These unique and revelatory experiences enable us to see the true meaning of life. Whether Jesus on the cross or the women at the tomb, Buddha under the tree of enlightenment, or Mohammed hearing the voice of God, these experiences give humankind perspective and guidance for the ordinary journeys of life. From the mountaintop, we capture a glimpse of our vocation and place in the universe.
The pastor needs to remind the members of her or his congregation of their own mountaintop experiences, both spiritual and secular. Often in retreats, I ask participants "when did God become more than a word to you?" Our spiritual lives are not even and homogenous. There are "thin" places as the Celtic Christians would say, where the divine and human are transparent to one another. These experiences do not devalue the everyday but give inspiration for everyday living.
What mountaintop experiences have you had? Remembering such experiences is essential to composing our own spiritual autobiography and discovering those places where God has been most been consciously experienced in our lives. Those moments include: falling in love, the wedding day, receiving a divine insight, seeing God in the face of a friend, grieving at a parent’s graveside. Amid the apparent evenness of chronos time, there are those unique moments of kairos, where the whole world changes and we come to understand ourselves as if for the first time.
The preacher would do well to remind the congregation that these unique experiences are not entirely accidental. Though they arise from the initiative of God, we must – like Moses – prepare ourselves in order to experience them when the perceived veil between sacred and secular is lifted. We are always on holy grand, each moment is an epiphany; but unless our senses (our whole person) is open to the possibility of encountering God, we will miss God’s unique and ubiquitous epiphanies in our own lives.
But, how do we prepare to encounter the divine? While there is no one method of preparation, I believe that we can open ourselves to God through exercises in theological reflection, spiritual transformation, and loving service. Healthy theological reflection invites us to envisage a god-filled world, where there is no ultimate distinction between sacred and secular. God’s aims come to us in every moment and guide us, whether or not we are aware of it. The disciplines of spiritual transformation (meditation, prayer, icons, visualization, chanting, singing, journaling, charismatic experience, etc.) awaken us to the reality charted by theological reflection. The circle is completed when we serve God in the persons right before us, when we see Christ within them and help them discover Christ’s fullness in their lives through acts of friendship, support, and justice-seeking.
2
Corinthians 3:12-4:2
This scripture falls under the category, "handle with
care." A literal reading of the passage easily lends itself to a
theology of "supercession," or replacement of Judaism by
Christianity, at best, or anti-Semitism, at worst. In either case, divine
universalism as well as God’s particular covenant with the children of
Israel is denied. While Paul makes the case for Christ’s fulfillment of
the Jewish law and his universal deliverance from the power of sin and
death, Paul affirms that God’s faithfulness to the Jewish people is
still in effect.
As a preacher, I am tempted to leave this passage out altogether. However, the deep truth of this passage is found in the phrase, "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." God’s spirit delivers us from bondage from lifeless forms of order as well as compulsive attempts at novelty. God frees us from the tragic past of anti-Semitism by calling us to claim the shared spiritual insights of Judaism and Christianity. Authentic freedom is grounded in a creative synthesis of order and novelty, tradition and innovation. Our past is not our destiny, but rather the foundation upon which we together create a meaningful future. Paul promises a life of spiritual evolution to those who align themselves with the Spirit. In our spiritual evolution, we includes as well as transcend our previous experiences of God. Our hope as followers of the living Spirit is to "transformed in the same image [of Christ] from degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit."
Psalm
99
The Psalm of the day proclaims the faithfulness and justice of the God
of the universe. The creator of every universe, beyond all imagination,
nevertheless is infinitely personal. God works through mortals, like Moses
and Samuel and ourselves, to achieve the divine aim for our world. With
the church father, we can exclaim that "God is the circle whose
center is everywhere, but whose circumference is nowhere." Each
person, place, and encounter is ultimately a "center" of divine
creativity and revelation.
Luke
9:28-43
This passage captures the rhythm of authentic spirituality: the
inner life is completed in outer service, and dramatic encounters with God
issue in service to the least of these. The mountaintop theophany reveals
Jesus’ true nature as God’s chosen messenger, affirming and
transforming the message of Moses and Elijah. On the mountaintop, the
disciples see Jesus for what he truly is – the divine icon, the window
through which God’s nature is revealed.
For many years, I have led spiritual retreats. Typically, on the final day, someone notes how much they regret having to return home to classes, children, work, and conflicts. No doubt, this was the experience of the three disciples as well. They suggest that Jesus remain on the mountaintop with them, far from the controversies and challenges of the flatland. But, Jesus must return to the plain; he must set his face toward the suffering of the Cross.
In Luke’s account, the spiritual high of the mountaintop is contrasted with the reality of personal pain. A father comes seeking deliverance for his demon-possessed son. While his symptoms indicate epilepsy, we must remember that to encounter these texts in terms of first century as well as twenty-first century medicine. To the ancients, epilepsy was called the "sacred disease," because it appeared to take persons out of their normal states of consciousness. Confronted by the boy’s disease, Jesus rebukes and exorcises the "demon" and restores the boy to wholeness of body, mind, and spirit.
Whenever there is suffering, Jesus’ immediate response is to reach out in healing touch.
Spiritual experience finds its completion in healing – in facing the pain of the world with the resources of God’s wisdom, power, and love. God’s light shines through broken and troubled experiences as well as experiences of clarity and inspiration. With Mother Teresa, the vision of the mountaintop gives us the eyes to see Christ in all his disturbing disguises. Compassion and love, as Paul proclaims in I Corinthians 13, are the greatest of gifts and the test of our spiritual maturity. The new vision from the mountaintop enables us to see God at work in brokenness and to take our rightful place as God’s own healers in our time.
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