For those of us familiar with the Book of Common Prayer, the Feast of the Transfiguration comes on August 6th, so its appearance today may come as a surprise. Yet there was not much sense in that August 6th date, which usually came on a weekday and was often unobserved. This new placement, the last Sunday of Epiphany (which is also the last Sunday before Lent) aligns the feast with the events of Jesus’ life as he moves towards Gethsemane and the Cross: thus, we have our own moment of glimpsing the Transfiguration, a pre-figuring of Easter, before we enter the darkness of Lent and Good Friday, as Jesus went on from the Transfiguration to his arrest, trial and crucifixion; but also Resurrection.
For the last few weeks I have been part of our Wednesday evening Bible study on the book of Revelation. For me, the most important insight I gained was John the Divine’s insistence on integrating Jewish revelation (the Exodus, the Passover, the twelve tribes of Israel, the Law, the promise of the Messiah, the Ancient of Days and Son of Man) with the revelation of Jesus Christ as that Messiah, the Lamb of God, who suffers, dies and is risen and who provides support and sustenance to those who suffer. It is almost impossible to untangle the Jewish and Christian imagery of the Book of Revelation. Thus, John the Divine was also writing to encourage the unity of the mixed Jewish-Gentile church of his time – saying to the Jews, here is the Messiah you have been waiting for, Jesus Christ, the Lamb, and the Gentiles are following him and dying for him; and saying to the Gentiles, Jesus the Messiah comes out of deep Jewish roots not to be despised, and Jewish Christians are also dying for their faith.
Somewhat similar might be said of the Transfiguration. It is an event laden with Jewish symbolism. The holy mountain, dazzling garments, thick cloud, human fear and the divine voice all remind one of Moses on Mt. Saini. Here is the new Moses. And the prophet, Elijah, is there to give testimony to Jesus as the Messiah. The Transfiguration is a Messianic theophany (showing forth of God) identifying Jesus as the Messiah – but a Messiah who is about to suffer and die. He is the Suffering Servant, not the conquering military King. Jesus has brought three witnesses with him, Peter, John and James; in Jewish tradition, three witnesses makes an event unquestionably true. And in the second lesson from 2 Peter, we hear Peter being just such as witness: “we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty”.
The three disciples briefly share the Messiah’s glory and hear God’s voice. At first, they forget it – think of Peter’s denial in the garden of Gethsemane – but after his Resurrection they remember. For Jesus, the event must have been one of affirmation and encouragement, giving him resolve as he faced his now immediate death. For the church-to-be, it is a clear statement of who Jesus is, witnessed, and makes sense of what was to follow.
What of ourselves? Who are we in the story? Witnesses who then forget but remember later? Prophets pointing to the new Revelation? Or images of the Transfigured Christ, encouraged before we go on to pain and suffering? Or perhaps all of those? In any case, we are invited into the story and asked to make it ours.
It is perhaps ironic that we have as our Scripture readings the Transfiguration on the day we have our annual Vestry, which often is about the most un-transfigured matters possible: budgets, trust accounts, election of officers, infrastructure, and so forth. Yet I would like to think that in the Vestry reports, even the financial reports and budget, are small images of Transfiguration: of how we have allowed ourselves to enter the glory of God at least in some small ways; and how we might encourage ourselves and our neighbours to enter that glory more completely.
Jesus has invited his three closest disciples, Peter, John and James, to the holy mountain. They trust him and go, though they do not know quite what is to happen. They try their best, despite wanting to sleep. They do not complain; indeed, having experienced the talk of Moses and Elijah, they want to stay. Then they are blessed with God’s own words; and they eventually return to the ordinary world with Jesus, but to suffering, pain, death, and resurrection.
In the Eastern Orthodox tradition, Sunday worship in all its glory is sometimes likened to the Transfiguration. The same may be said of the beauty and dignity of Anglican worship; and even of its joy when it is more unrestrained. But we are always sent out to take up the Cross, day by day, week by week. We hope and pray that our worship unites us, despite our disagreements, as the Transfiguration united the disciples and eventually the church.
We hope too that the ministry of the Diocese and the church beyond reflects Christ’s Transfiguration. This morning I was to read you a pastoral letter from Bishop Michael to the Diocese following all the input he received in response to his last Synod Charge, where he invited such input. The letter is quite long and our time is limited, so I thought I would read only the concluding vision that Bishop Michael hopes for the diocese in 2018, his tent anniversary as diocesan bishop. The whole letter will be available in print next Sunday and in the Friday electronic newsletter. Here are some of the themes that Bishop Michael hopes might guide our future:
• Liberating our lives to embrace Jesus’ call to discipleship.
• Liberating our ministries to move beyond our church buildings and to become more visible in the public square of our communities.
• Liberating leaders in the diocese for innovative and faithful ministry.
• Liberating our imaginations and our understanding of our calling to be the Church; reimagining our structures to help empower us for this ministry in the 21st century.
• Liberating our parishes to live with greater vitality and sustainability.
• Liberating our voices to stand with and for those of God’s people whose voices are silenced and who are bound by the forces of poverty, violence, prejudice and warfare.
I hope we can discern some Transfiguration in these visions.
As a parish, we too need to continue to dream and have visions, but also make concrete plans. My report to Vestry, which I hope you have all read, spoke a bit about some of our issues for the future. As is clear from the Bishop’s vision, much is in transition, ourselves included. We do have the flexibility and time to plan our future as a parish the way we believe God is calling us: indeed, to be transfigured for ministry. To that end, this week the Bishop has given me a slightly different title, Bishop Rector, rather than Bishop-in-charge, but with a special mandate to work with the parish and diocese in moving to our next step in clergy leadership in this parish. While we see some parishes closing, others are moving from half-time to full-time clergy; that might be a possibility; but there are many other models we need to explore.
So as we embark upon our annual Vestry meeting today, let us remember that we are also about Transfiguration and Resurrection, and not just who will get the donkey for the ride into Jerusalem or who will buy the food for the Passover Meal. Let us stay awake and be always ready to welcome God; and not become discouraged for our God does not abandon us. And let us be transfigured people going out into the world radiating the love of God.
“You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
May we be that lamp and that morning star. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment