TRANSFIGURATION LIGHT - Last Sunday after Epiphany, February 11, 2018; by Bishop Terry Brown

(Sermon preached by Bishop Terry Brown at the Church of the Ascension, Hamilton, Ontario, on the Last Sunday after Epiphany, February 11, 2018. Texts: 2 Kings 2: 1-12; 2 Corinthians 4: 3-6; Mark 9: 2-9.

Today’s Gospel, for the last Sunday before Lent, is Jesus’ Transfiguration on the holy mountain, before he goes down to his crucifixion in Jerusalem a few weeks later. The imagery, especially the brilliant light, prefigures the Resurrection.

I am sure this Gospel is placed here in the liturgical year, as an encouragement and reminder of Easter as the celebration of Christ’s Resurrection, at the end of the dark tunnel, so to speak, of Lent. Jesus is placed with two figures from Hebrew Scripture who also had mountain-top revelatory experiences, the law-giver Moses and the prophet Elijah. Christ is the new Revelation about to be defined by his death and resurrection. The disciples accompanying Jesus barely understand but they will later come back to this experience, time and time again. The Transfiguration vision is also the culmination of the many small epiphanies of the Epiphany season, with a voice from heaven declaring, “This is my Son, the beloved, listen to him!”

And so, as the disciples eventually listened, we listen: in Scripture, Bible study, prayer, meditation, common discernment and community. We do so with the hope that we are moving towards the truth, towards the justice of Moses’s law, towards the quiet authority of Elijah’s still small voice, but most of all towards the embodied love of God modeled in Jesus, the simple prophet of Nazareth, who taught simple folk how to love and be just, with authority and simplicity, who for that met his death on a cross, and who rose, ascended, and reigns with his Father on high – because God declared on the holy mountain, “This is my Son, the beloved, listen to him!”

That process should be like “light shining out of the darkness”, in the words of today’s epistle. But that epistle also reminds us that that light is not us or our enlightenment or brilliance but Jesus Christ the Lord. By now, Paul, late in his ministry, is very clear that any brilliance is not his but Jesus Christ’s. At best we can only reflect that light. The passage then moves on to the well-known image of having this wonderful treasure in fragile clay pots, bodies and minds that are flawed and failing but which can still contain and shine forth the treasure of divine love.

I hope Deacon Leonel (and his mother) will forgive me if I use him as a simple example. This afternoon he will experience what for anyone with a vocation to ordination, is a wonderful mountaintop Transfiguration experience. The literal mountaintop is perhaps only a few steps up to the bishop but the promises and the prayer for the gift of the Holy Spirit with the laying on of hands, with the music, presence of friends, and the whole sense of celebration, is deeply moving. I still remember one surprising thought during my ordination as a priest: “if the weight of these hands gets any heavier, I am going to have to put my hands on the bishop’s knees to brace myself”. Still, the experience is one of Transfiguration and is meant to be.

But then there is the morning after: yes, the world has taken on a new glow of joy, but I am also still me, with the same temptations, worries, personality characteristics, challenges and disappointments. I have not suddenly become God and know everything and am without sin. But there is a new confidence, a new resolution, a new recognition, a new empowerment to minister and serve, and to overcome whatever obstacles there are in one’s life to that ministry. The Middle Ages spoke of that new state as sacramental character, whether it be of a priest or bishop; or, indeed, of the laity, as we all share in a new sacramental character through our Baptisms and Confirmations. Sacramental character sends us out from Transfiguration to nitty-gritty ministry and all its difficulties and ambiguities.

In the Orthodox tradition, Sunday worship is meant to be an experience of Transfiguration in its rich combination of beautiful art, architecture, music, incense and liturgy. Because of its Protestant tradition, Anglican worship tends to be sparser but even here we should experience Sunday worship as uplifting and not go home angry or annoyed. That is the point of dignified liturgy, clear reading, beautiful music and a friendly congregation. (It is a reason for not doing church business during coffee hour!) Perhaps some of our large funerals better model the Transfiguration experience of worship because of numbers and the services’ deep emotional quality and the personal choice of hymns. Still for others, following the tradition of the “still small voice”, Transfiguration is found in quiet meditation, in silence, in the model of Elijah on the mountain; for example, in the Taizé service or centring prayer.

As Jesus and his disciples were sent from the mountain of Transfiguration back into situations of difficult and dangerous (indeed, fatal) ministry (as Deacon Leonel will be sent back to us, at least for a short time, to minister as a priest), all of us are called to move from Transfiguration events back into ministry. That ministry is exemplified, of course, by the ministry of Jesus: healing, forgiving, welcoming, encouraging, comforting, seeking justice – in short, embodying God’s divine love in the world. As with the post-Transfiguration Jesus and his disciples, that living the Christian Way will entail bearing the cross, an emptying oneself of entitlement and privilege, being present with the outcast and despised with love, protecting and enabling the vulnerable, and seeking to be God’s love in the world.

Churches are sometimes notorious places for conflict. As a bishop, I sometimes presided over synods with debates that ended with fistfights. Not always successfully, I tried to prevent irate Anglicans from burning down the new churches they disagreed with. But along with conflict are provisions for restoration of unity, including within the Eucharist. In the Melanesian and New Zealand liturgies, after the confession and absolution, the words of the Peace (“The Peace of the Lord be always with you”; “and also with you”) are accompanied by other biblical sentences: “We are the Body of Christ; by one Spirit we were baptized into one Body; Try hard to keep the unity of the Spirit; in the body of peace.”) Transfiguration produces the desire for unity, the desire to stay together, despite disagreements. And effective ministry also requires unity. The Transfiguration experience united Jesus and his closest disciples and they never forgot it.

Those are a few thoughts before we begin Lent on Ash Wednesday this week. I invite us all to observe a holy Lent, recognizing that we are all sinners. While as Anglicans we may entertain a high view of human nature (correctly, I believe) there is also the reminder of Jeremiah: “The heart is devious above all else; it is perverse— who can understand it? I the Lord test the mind and search the heart, to give to all according to their ways, according to the fruit of their doings.” Even in my seventh decade of life, I can still say those words of myself. And if we cannot, then some self-examination is in order. We have forty days. One simple prayer, I think, is in order, it is a prayer I use all the time: “Lord, help me to see my sins as you see them”: not as I see them and not as others see them; but as God sees them. The results will bring us Transfiguration, fruitful ministry, and Resurrection life. Thanks be to God.