The Gospel of Change
Last Sunday after the Epiphany (Year
C)
Transfiguration Sunday
Exodus
34.29-35; 2 Corinthians 3.12—4.2; Luke 9.28-36
St. Gregory’s, Long Beach
In 1789,
Benjamin Franklin wrote “In this world nothing can be said to be certain,
except death and taxes.” I would have to disagree. There is a third thing that
is certain in this world. Change.
While many
people may not care for change, it’s pretty certain that it happens regardless.
Just look at the changes that we undergo as we go through our lives. After we
are born, we are completely dependent on others for our care. As we mature, we
are able to begin taking care of some of our own basic needs. As we get a
little older, we begin school. We graduate from high school. Some of us go on
to college. After graduation (from whatever level of education), we enter the
workforce in our chosen field. At some point in this process, most people leave
their parents’ home and move into their own home. Eventually, many get married.
They have their first child—maybe eventually having more children. Our children
grow up, go to school, and eventually leave home. In due time, we retire. And
throughout this series of changes, some people experience even more changes—moves
to different homes, changes in jobs or even careers, health issues, etc. Each
of these milestones brings with it changes in mental and physical ability,
changes in our appearance as we age, changes in our way of life, and even
changes in our sense of identity. Such changes are inevitable.
Our Scripture
readings for today are all stories that, in one way or another, involve change.
Change in appearance. Change in relationship. Change in identity.
In the Old
Testament reading from Exodus, we hear of the aftermath of Moses’ encounter
with God on Mount Sinai, when God delivered the Ten Commandments to Moses. He
comes down from the mountain changed by his encounter. The most obvious change
that is recorded is “the skin of his face shone because he had been talking
with God” (Ex 34.29). As we hear, the people were freaked out by seeing Moses’
face all aglow. They were afraid to come near him because there was a common
belief at the time that one could not look upon God and live. While this was
not the case with Moses—he had obviously seen God and lived to tell the
tale—they were still frightened by the sight and feared that they somehow might
be subject to death just by looking upon the glow of Moses’ face. A glow that
was due to being in God’s presence. So, to ease the minds of his people, Moses
wears a veil when with them so they cannot see and therefore be harmed by—or
fear being harmed by—the effects of his Divine encounter.
While not so
obvious from what we heard, this story of Moses’ encounter with God also
implies other changes that Moses undergoes by virtue of that encounter. His
relationship with God has changed. This is signified by the fact that God has
allowed Moses to see him face-to-face and live to tell about it. And related to
this change in relationship is the change in Moses’ identity. A subtle change
is that he is now the undisputed “go between” between God and his people. Moses
already had this identity for being the prophet who communicated God’s desires
to the people. But now this identity is undisputed. And Moses has the glowing
face to prove it.
But even more
so, Moses, in delivering the Ten Commandments to the people, takes on the
identity of Lawgiver. He is the one who delivers to the Israelites not just the
Ten Commandments, but all 613 of the laws that will be the foundation for the
life of the people. The laws that will define the social and religious
activities of the people from that day forward.
It is not
just Moses whose identity is changed in his encounter with God. The laws that
God gives to Moses—that Moses delivers to the people—will shape the very
identity of the Israelites themselves. These laws will define their actions and
responsibilities as God’s Chosen People. These laws will define who they are as
Jews. Laws that continue to define the Jewish people to this very day.
Then there’s
our Gospel reading from Luke, where we hear of Jesus, along with Peter, James,
and John, going up a mountain to pray. “And while [Jesus] was praying, the
appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white” (Lk
9.29). Jesus is transfigured, radiating that same glory of God that caused
Moses’ face to shine after his encounter with God. We are then told that Moses
and Elijah appear to talk with Jesus, particularly about what will happen to
Jesus in Jerusalem—referring to his death and resurrection. After some bumbling
and essentially inconsequential actions on the part of the Apostles present,
“Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen
to him!’” (Lk 9.35).
Jesus’
transfiguration is most certainly a change in appearance, albeit temporary. It
is an outward and visible sign of the transformation that was taking place in
that moment. But more importantly is the transformation regarding Jesus’
identity. Not that his identity is truly transformed—it has always been there.
Rather, on that mountain, the true nature of Jesus’ identity is at last
revealed to his closest followers. Up to this point, the disciples still don’t
fully understand who Jesus is. Not even Peter, who eight days before uttered
his famous declaration that Jesus is “the Messiah of God” (Lk 9.20b).
The extent of
this revelation of his true identity is also indicated by the presence of Moses
and Elijah, representing the two foundations of the Jewish tradition, the Law
and the Prophets. Moses representing the Law, given on Mount Sinai. And Elijah,
the greatest of the prophets, chosen to represent the tradition of God
interacting with his people through the prophets. The presence of Moses and
Elijah serving as a visual clue that Jesus, in his transfigured state, which
itself foreshadows his resurrection, is indeed the fulfillment of the Law and
the Prophets. That through his resurrection, he will transcend the Law and the
Prophets, ushering in a new era for God’s people. Religion based on the Law and
the Prophets is replaced by religion based on relationship with Christ. That
instead of the Law and the Prophets being the means of relationship with God,
the resurrected Christ will be the means of our relationship with God.
And then, of
course, God puts the period on this transformation in Jesus’ identity by saying
to Peter, James, and John, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” A verbal
affirmation of the identity indicated by the visual clues of transfiguration
and the presence of Moses and Elijah.
Peter wants
to stay up on the mountain top, basking in the glory of God that is revealed in
the transfigured Jesus. But, eventually, he and the other disciples will have
to come down from the mountain and be with the people. Keeping this experience
to themselves will do no one any good. They will be required to act upon what
they saw and heard on that mountain. As with Moses giving the Law to the
people, thereby transforming their identity, Jesus’ transfiguration and all
that it represents also serves to change the identity of those witnessing these
events. The three disciples, who needed this experience to help them comprehend
the following events—namely Jesus’ resurrection—and to comprehend through that
event that Jesus was indeed the chosen one of God. And through their testimony
following Jesus’ death and resurrection, they would serve as the conduit for
the transformation in those who follow Jesus. That they are to witness to the
fact that through Jesus, there is a transformation of relationship with God,
now made possible not through the Law and the Prophets but through our own
face-to-face encounter with God’s Chosen.
It was not
just Jesus who was transformed on that mountain, but we ourselves were also
transformed. Just as Jesus’ transfiguration prefigures his resurrection,
through his death and resurrection we are ultimately transformed. Through his
death and resurrection, our sins are forgiven and death is defeated, and we are
brought into new and eternal life through and with Christ. And we are
transformed by the indwelling Spirit—the Spirit of Christ—that is given to
guide us in living into this new, transformed life. But it is not just
transformation in the ultimate, eternal sense. We are also transformed in the
short-term—that time before we ourselves die and are born to eternal life. We
are called to live into that transformed life even now. Reflecting to the world
the glory of God that radiates from Jesus’ transfigured face. As Paul writes to
the Corinthians in today’s Epistle reading, “All of us . . . are being
transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor
2.18).
Today’s
readings depict the brilliance of the presence of God in the world. The
brilliance of the presence of God that causes Moses’ face to glow as an outward
sign of his encounter with God. Jesus is transfigured, his presence a dazzling
brilliance, revealing the brilliance of the presence of God in the
flesh—Emmanuel, God with us. And through his death and resurrection, through
the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, that brilliance of God’s presence is
imparted to us. Transforming us in our lives here and now, and in our lives in
the world to come.
So, I leave
you with a few questions to ponder as we prepare for our Lenten journey—the
journey we will take with Jesus, down Mount Tabor, on to Jerusalem to his
Passion, culminating with his ultimate transfiguration at the Resurrection:
How is our
appearance transformed—obviously not a physical transformation, but a spiritual
transformation—by our encounter with the living God?
How is that
spiritual radiance that we possess, because of our own encounter with God,
manifest?
And do we
choose to veil it, as did Moses, or do we choose to allow that presence to
shine forth in our lives?
Blessings on
your journey down the mountain.
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