Archive for the ‘Transfiguration’ Category

Are you awake? Transfiguration

March 1, 2025

Transfiguration – 2025

Luke 9:28-38

Marian Free

In the name of God who reveals Godself to us in many and varied ways. Amen.

I am sure that you, like me, heard this morning’s gospel in a stereotypical way – after all, we are all familiar with the story of Jesus’ transfiguration. We know that Jesus went up the mountain with Peter, John and James, that Jesus spoke with Elijah and Moses, that he was transfigured, that God spoke from the cloud using language much like that that was used at Jesus’ baptism, that Peter offered to build three tents, and that Jesus told them to say nothing. 

Our familiarity with the story of the Transfiguration can make us lazy readers/listeners. We see and hear what we expect to see and hear which means that we often miss the subtle but significant differences in Luke’s version of the story. For example, if you look again you will notice that Luke does not even use the language of transfiguration (from the Greek word metamorphosis). According to Luke it is only Jesus’ face that was changed. Later we discover that the disciples saw his glory, but there is nothing to suggest he underwent a complete transformation. If we had access only to Luke’s gospel, we would interpret this event as something like the revealing of Jesus’ true nature to his inner circle.  This suggests that Luke felt that Jesus had no need to be changed or transfigured, but that the disciples’ needed to see Jesus for who he really was before they continued on their journey.

There are a number of other curious differences in Luke’s retelling of this event. 

Luke tells us why Jesus went up the mountain – to pray. Prayer is an integral aspect of Jesus’ ministry in Luke.  Jesus prays before all the major events of his ministry. It is in the context of prayer, communion with God, that Jesus’ face is changed, and the disciples see his glory. Only Luke tells us the content of the discussion between Jesus, Moses and Elijah. They are talking about “Jesus’ departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” Specifically, the topic of conversation is Jesus’ departure or death, the high point or fulfillment of his mission – something that Jesus has already revealed to the disciples, but which probably needed reinforcing.

Some context is important here. The event on the mountain top occurs at a pivotal point in Luke’s account of Jesus’ life.  In the previous verses we have learnt that Jesus has equipped the twelve with power over demons and the ability to cure diseases and that he has sent them out to proclaim the kingdom – in other words Jesus has begun the process of handing over his ministry to the disciples. What is more, Jesus’ true identity has been revealed to the disciples when Peter declared: “You are the Christ”. Jesus has followed up Peter’s statement by announcing for the first time that he, Jesus, is to die and rise again. Then, in Luke 9:52 we read that Jesus set his face towards Jerusalem – the place where death awaits him. The strong language “set his face” suggests that going to Jerusalem was for Jesus a matter of will – he knew what lay before him, but he knew too that to fulfil his purpose he had to go. 

We can see then Jesus has begun to prepare his disciples for their future ministry, he has revealed his true nature and told the disciples what the future holds. From now on, his teaching which previously had been addressed to everyone will be focused on his disciples. 

It is in this context of transition – leaving Galilee and going to Jerusalem, teaching everyone and teaching the disciples – that Luke places his account of Jesus’ on the mountain top. Jesus goes up the mountain to pray.  While he is praying Jesus’ face is changed and Elijah and Moses, icons of Israel’s past appear and talk to Jesus about what is to happen – whether they give him advice or courage, we will never know.

While all this is happening, Peter, John and James – Jesus’ inner circle – are “weighed down with or heavy with sleep”. The expression is ambiguous. It is not clear if the disciples are struggling to keep awake or if they are groggy because they have woken from sleep.  Either way, these privileged three appear to have nearly missed seeing the change in Jesus’ face, eavesdropping on the conversation with Elijah and Moses, observing his glory and hearing the voice from the cloud. 

What a close call! How much poorer would our understanding of Jesus’ life and ministry have been had the disciples drifted off!

We miss so much if we are not paying attention to what we hear and read. We fail to notice the subtle ways in which the gospel writers put their own slant on the Jesus’ story.  We blend the four gospel accounts into one and miss seeing details that are intended to enrich our understanding or to challenge our complacency. We overlook the very obvious flaws in Jesus’ followers, even those who are closest to him. We soften the edges of Jesus’ challenging and confrontational teachings.

What else do we miss? Are we like the disciples so “weighed down” with sleepiness or complacency that important revelations of God come and go while our attention is elsewhere?

The sleepiness of the Peter, John and James is a warning to us all. They so nearly missed out on one of the most extraordinary events of Jesus’ ministry because, despite being specially chosen by Jesus for this one event, instead of being alert and expectant, they allowed their focus to slip. 

The sleepiness of Peter, John and James confronts us with our own lack of attention, our own failure to believe that the out of the ordinary can occur at any time and in any place – whether we are at prayer or engaged in the business of our day, whether we are alone on a mountain top or in the midst of a crowd of people, whether we are wide awake or drifting off to sleep. 

As we enter the season of Lent, it is timely to ask ourselves: What are the distractions that prevent us from being aware of God’s presence – busyness, ambition, complacency, tiredness, or anxiety. 

Let us pray that our Lenten practice will increase our awareness of Gods’ presence in our lives and of the ways in which we allow ourselves to be “weighed down” by distractions.  

Transfiguration- changing of the guard

February 10, 2024

Transfiguration – 2024

Mark 9:2-9

Marian Free

In the name of God who leads us into a future that is as yet unknown. Amen.

Most of us associate the expression “changing of the guard” with the ceremony surrounding the moment when soldiers who have been guarding a significant government building or boundary for a period of time are replaced by those who are rostered on for the next period of time. In England the tradition goes back to the time of Henry VII and the idea was to show both military discipline and ceremony.  In England the guards are those who protect Buckingham Palace, but the practice is not unique to the UK. The border guards along the Indian Pakistani frontier also have quite an elaborate ritual when one group of soldiers replaces another, and no doubt other cultures have ceremonies of their own.

 

The phrase “changing of the guard” has entered our vocabulary. We use it refer to the time when a leader, a political party or other group or person of influence hands over their position to another person or group. In common parlance, “changing of the guard” is often associated with a change (sometimes subtle and often difficult) in style and policy.

 

It had never occurred to me that one way of looking at the Transfiguration was to see it as God’s way of making clear to the disciples that in Jesus there was to be a ‘changing of the guard.’ After Jesus was transfigured, Elijah and Moses appeared and spoke with him. Peter was terrified! Both Elijah and Moses were heroes of the Jewish faith. More than that, there was a widespread belief that Elijah would return before the end and among the community of Qumran there was also an expectation that Moses would return at the end of time. It is entirely possible that Peter thought that the presence of Elijah and Moses was a sign that they had returned to presage the end times.

 

According to William Placher, who is referenced by Chelsea Harmon[1], this is why Peter wants to make dwellings for the three men. If Elijah and Moses have returned, and if, as Peter has declared six days previously, Jesus is the Christ, the anointed one of God, they must be properly sheltered as they await the coming of the end.  The problem, Placher

points out is that in declaring that three shelters are needed, Peter is making it clear that he believes Elijah and Moses to be equal to Jesus – even though it is Jesus alone who has been transfigured. In response, the voice from heaven seems to be chiding him: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Elijah and Moses come from the past and belong to the past. God is doing something new. Now is the time to listen to Jesus.)

What Peter, and presumably James and John have failed to realize is that Jesus represents the changing of the guard. The prophets had their part to play, but now they must give way to Jesus, the beloved Son.

 

To be fair, it must have been confusing for the disciples – steeped as they were in the expectations of their faith, tied as they were to current practices and expressions of faith. Jesus didn’t enter the world with a bang, Jesus didn’t behave as they disciples expected a Messiah to behave, and Jesus didn’t conform to the religious standards of the day. Jesus has to bring the disciples along with him. He has to keep correcting the disciples, God has to keep giving them hints (or prods) and Jesus has to try to be as explicit as he can as to what they might or might not expect.

 

(When Peter rebukes Jesus for announcing that he will have to suffer, Jesus harshly likens him Satan, when Peter wants to build tents on a mountain top, God makes it clear that it is Jesus alone who will inaugurate the promised future, when James and John conspire to be at Jesus’ right and left hand, Jesus has to remind them that his message is counter-cultural – the greatest will be least and the first will be last).

 

To us, these thousands of years later, Jesus’ transfiguration seems an obvious way to reveal Jesus’ true identity, but to Peter, James and John it was anything but clear. Overawed by the presence of such great names as Elijah and Moses, they see Jesus as one among many, not as the one.

 

The Transfiguration is just one of the many occasions on which the misunderstanding of the disciples is used by God, or by Jesus to help them understand that something different is happening. Jesus might be one in a long line of heroes and prophets, but he is much more than that. Jesus represents a changing of the guard. Elijah and Moses belong to the past. Jesus belongs to the future. From now on everything will be the same – Jesus was and remained a Jew, as do the disciples. At the same time everything will be different – Jesus exposes all the misconceptions that have grown up over the centuries. He reminds the community of things long forgotten. He challenges the leaders of the church and models a new style of leadership.

 

All of this took some getting used to. The disciples would have to surrender their old ways of thinking and acting. They would have to learn to be truly open to what Jesus has to say and they would have to be willing to take risks – risks that might cost them their lives. The present and past must have seemed safe and comfortable in comparison.

 

On the mountain top Peter, James and John see Jesus revealed in glory but more than that, they begin to learn that they cannot hold on to the past but must let go of what has been so that they can begin to comprehend what might be.

We, like the disciples have become comfortable with the church as we know it. But the church as we love is dying. It took more than the Transfiguration for the disciples to grasp that God, in Jesus was beginning of something new. What will it take for us to see the future God had planned for us? What will it take for us to learn when to hold on and when to let go? What is God saying to us today?

 

 


[1] https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2024-02-05/mark-92-9-4/

What are we expecting? The Transfiguration

August 6, 2023

Transfiguration (2) – 2023
Mark 9:2-10
Marian Free

In the name of God who reveals godself through Jesus Christ. Amen.

The nature of Jesus was a matter of much debate in the first few centuries of the Christian church. Theologians of the day wondered: Was Jesus divine? Was he human? Was he human only to become divine at the resurrection? Did he only appear to be human, but was really divine? If Jesus was the Son of God did this make him subordinate to God? and so on. This issue was a serious cause of contention and division until Constantine called the Council of Nicea to put an end to the debate once and for all. At that Council Bishops and theologians concluded (based on their studies of scripture) that Jesus was/is both fully human and fully divine. The Nicaean Creed, which we will say shortly, resulted from the Council and remains the standard of orthodoxy to this day.

“We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten not made,
of one being through the Father,
through him all things were made.”

Despite this, there are some 1700 years later I still meet people who struggle to grasp that Jesus can be both fully God and fully human. I have some sympathy for their point of view. The gospels tell the story of Jesus’ very human existence. Jesus gets tired, sad, and angry. He needs to eat and sleep. He grieves and rejoices. In the end Jesus allows himself to be arrested and tortured and he even dies. It is true that Jesus performs miracles, but in many ways does not behave as one might expect God to behave. He mixes with the wrong kinds of people; he does not rain down fire on the cities that reject him, and he does not call angels to his aid. Again – he dies. (Surely God does not die!)

It is only in John’s gospel that we begin to see a clear understanding of Jesus’ divinity. The gospel begins with the claim that Jesus and God were co-creators of the universe and throughout that gospel Jesus claims that if “you have seen me, you have seen the Father” and “the Father and I are one”. The Gospel of John was written quite late and after some reflection, but our earliest records, the letters of Paul, make it clear that from the beginning Jesus’ divinity was taken for granted – even if it wasn’t explicit or clearly spelled out in a credal statement. In the letters, Paul uses the expressions “God, Lord and Spirit” interchangeably, indicating that he (and therefore the early church) took for granted that there was one God (Father, Son and Spirit) – even though it was to take a couple of centuries for theologians to formalize this faith into the doctrine of the Trinity and to make a definitive statement about the nature of Jesus.

We might wonder why it took the disciples and then the church so long to make up their minds, and why there was so much debate concerning the nature of Jesus. After all, readers of scripture know that the true nature of Jesus is announced at the very beginning of his public ministry. At Jesus’ baptism the spirit descends on Jesus and a voice declares: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” If that were not clear enough at Jesus’ transfiguration not only is Jesus transformed before Peter, James, and John, but the words pronounced at Jesus’ baptism are repeated: “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.”

It is important to note that unlike the first disciples, we have the benefit of hindsight and of two thousand years of church history and theology. The disciples might have had the advantage of knowing Jesus personally, but we have the gospels and the experience of the early believers to fall back on. We, for example can read about Jesus’ baptism, but so far as we know, none of the disciples were present and at least until the Transfiguration (and perhaps even then), the nature of Jesus was confusing. He did not conform to their expectations. He was not a king or a warrior. The priests and religious elite did not follow him and perhaps most puzzling of all was his prediction that he was going to suffer. Nothing had prepared Jesus’ followers for a suffering Christ. Jesus was not going to exert power over the authorities of this world (be they Jewish or Roman) – just the opposite. Jesus was going to allow the world to destroy him. No wonder the disciples were at a loss to understand who and what he was.

The scenario that leads into the account of the Transfiguration illustrates this tension perfectly. Jesus has asked the disciples: “Who do you say that I am?” And, after some false starts the disciples respond: Elijah, one of the prophets. Finally, Peter declares: “You are the Christ.” When however, Jesus continues by telling the disciples that: “Son of Man must undergo great suffering.” Peter cannot take this in and he pulls Jesus aside and rebukes him. Peter’s insight into the nature of Jesus is only partial. He simply cannot comprehend a suffering Christ. He wants Jesus to fit the model of the Christ that he holds in his head. His preconception about an anointed one colours his perception of the Jesus who is in front of him and blinds him to the possibility that Jesus could be anything other than a triumphant Messiah.

Seen from this angle, the Transfiguration is more than a vision or a revelation. It is more than an affirmation of Jesus’ divine yet human nature. Rather it is an exposè of the ways in which we, like Peter react to Jesus, our expectation that Jesus will fit our idea of what he should be, and of our desire to hold on to moments of transcendence so that we can ignore the harsh reality of a suffering Messiah. The Transfiguration is a reminder to us that we should not allow ourselves be blinded by our preconceived ideas of Jesus, that we should see Jesus as he was and that if we hope to know Jesus when he comes again, we must be open to all the ways in which God might reveal Godself to the world – however surprising and unexpected.

Sustaining faith in the mundane

February 17, 2023

Transfiguration – 2023 (some thoughts)
Matthew 17:1-19
Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us in good times and bad. Amen.

There are a number of expressions that are used to describe the spiritual journey – ‘mountain top experiences’, ‘the desert’ and ‘the dark night of the soul’. Our experience of God is constantly changing. There are times in our spiritual journeys that come close to ecstasy and other times that seem mundane (and even tedious). The great spiritual writers speak both of times of great closeness to God and times of absence or dryness. Somehow, they found ways to sustain their faith even when the presence (or sense) of God was elusive.

Such was not the case for the ancient Israelites, at least as we read the accounts of the escape from Egypt. As Moses led the people through the desert, they constantly complained about God’s failure to provide for them. They looked back on their time of slavery with rose coloured glasses and, when Moses was on the mountain top conversing with God they made a golden calf and worshipped it. It seemed, that, without the constant, physical evidence of the presence of God, they could not maintain their faith in God. Or perhaps it was that their faith in God had not been built on a foundation that could sustain them in times when God’s presence was not blatantly present in signs and wonders.

it is not our place to stand in judgment but we can perhaps think of people among our own acquaintances whose faith seems to be shaken by (to us) the smallest of things, or whose faith is destroyed when tragedy strikes. We might also be able to think of people or faith communities that are always looking for the next high whether in worship or in their daily prayer lives.

‘Mountain top’ experiences or spiritual highs can be addictive. They make the illusive presence of God real and tangible. It is no wonder that we don’t want to let go of such experiences, that we want to make them last as long as possible. We can all relate to Peter and his desire to capture that moment on the mountain-top – “I will make three dwellings here,” he says. For this fisherman, this was almost certainly the most extraordinary experience of his life. It was also proof positive that Jesus was indeed someone special, someone close to, in a deep relationship with God, someone worth following. But even while Peter is still speaking, he is overcome with fear, and when he looks up he sees Jesus alone. The moment has passed.

God’s presence is as terrifying as it is exhilarating and no one can sustain the intensity of that experience. Jesus’ companions, Peter, James and John must return to their everyday lives and find ways to sustain their faith in the midst of the ordinariness, and in their case, the stresses and anxieties of discipleship. (A lesson they must learn again when Jesus leaves them to return to the Father.)

Not all of us are blessed with intense spiritual experiences, but all of us, like Peter must discover tools that support our faith journey in the mundane as well as in the sublime. We must find a bedrock on which to build a strong and solid faith that will not waver in the most testing or the driest of times.

One way to do this is through the discipline of the Daily Office. The Office (from the Latin for ‘work’) – is a unique way to pray. The text (which is based almost entirely on Scripture) is predetermined. This means that no matter what our state of mind, we can say the words on the page (or the ePray app) and, because the form and the words are in front of us, saying the Office helps to keep our thoughts in check. The Office is not the emotional, spur of the moment prayer of pleading or of giving thanks, but a dispassionate form of prayer that takes our own needs and desires out of the equation. We can say the office anywhere and at any time, by ourselves or in company. In a sense however, we never say it alone, because at any one time, there is sure to be someone, somewhere joining with us. The Office, said by lay and ordained members of the Anglican Communion, is a continual prayer – as one person finishes, someone, somewhere begins.

Praying the Daily Office, sustains us in those times when we don’t feel particularly connected to God, when we are anxious or afraid, when we are grief stricken or filled with despair. At such times the structure and discipline provides a sense of stability, order and groundedness.

Mountain top experiences are inspiring and exhilarating but they rarely last. The majority of our spiritual journey will occur during the daily grind of everyday living. We cannot capture and contain the highs which by nature are few and fleeting, but we can be continually sustained and fed through regular and dispassionate prayer.

If this has not been your practice, perhaps you could try the Office as your Lenten discipline. Who knows, you might find that you want to make it a part of your daily routine.

“Pearls” when we need them most

February 26, 2022

Transfiguration – 2022
Luke 9:28-39
Marian Free

In the name of God who is present at the best and the worst moments of our lives. Amen.

There are times in most people’s lives when we feel overwhelmed and when a future without stress or worry seems a distant dream. At such times – times when we long for a break in the traffic, any sort of relief that might allow time for oneself, time to take a breath, time to process what is happening or just time to finish one of the tasks at hand – God sends us “pearls”. If we are paying attention and if we haven’t allowed ourselves to become totally inward looking, we will notice an insight, a smile, an affirmation or a word of thanks that, for a moment at least, creates a moment of joy and is a reminder of why we are doing what we are doing. Such moments, however brief, seem to lighten the load and encourage us to continue. They are a reminder that the present won’t last forever and that even if it does, God will be with us through it all.

Is this the purpose of Jesus’ Transfiguration? Is Jesus’ mountaintop experience for him – rather than for the disciples as we are generally led to believe? This is the view of Scott Hoezee . If we take a look at the wider context rather than focussing on the actual event, we will see the pressures that Jesus is facing and conclude that this moment in time might be just what Jesus needed to strengthen his resolve and to give him the courage to continue his journey.

From the mid-point in chapter 9 the whole mood of the gospel changes – Jesus has announced to his disciples that he is to undergo great suffering, that he will be rejected by the elders, chief priests and the scribes and be killed (9:21). Then towards the end of the chapter, we hear that “when the days drew near for him to be taken up” Jesus “set” his face to go to Jerusalem. Knowing what lay ahead of him, it seems that it took all of Jesus resolve to begin his journey. (This is the meaning of ‘starizo’, ‘to make firm, to strengthen’). Jesus is not going to Jerusalem because he wants to, but because he knows that he has to.

The Transfiguration provides a fulcrum between Jesus’ ministry in Galilee and his journey to Jerusalem, to suffering and death. He will need all the strength and all the support that he can muster for what lies ahead. Sadly, it does not seem that he will find the latter among his disciples. As Hoezee points out, “the disciples seem lost in a fog of cluelessness”. When Jesus tells them that he will suffer and die, they have nothing to say. Indeed, as Luke tells the story, eight days later they have still not mentioned or discussed his momentous announcement! How unsupported and isolated Jesus must have felt – a feeling that would only have been exacerbated when, having healed the boy who was suffering from convulsion, Jesus announced once more that he was to be handed over, only to be met by incomprehension on the part of the disciples. It must have seemed to Jesus that he could not look to his friends for understanding, let alone encouragement when they bickered about who was the greatest, sought to rain down fire on villages that did not receive them and failed to grasp the nature of discipleship (9:44-end).

Just when Jesus might have been feeling overwhelmed and discouraged, God stepped in – providing support in the form of Moses and Elijah and affirming Jesus’ status as chosen, as Son. If this does not convince you that the Transfiguration was for Jesus and not for the disciples, there are other details that support this position. Moses and Elijah, both of whom know the cost of following God, speak exclusively to Jesus. What is more they speak about his departure – ‘which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem’. This can only mean that the two figures from the past were enlisted by God to reinforce the direction in which Jesus was to go and to give him encouragement to continue. (There is no other reason for this discussion.)

The disciples are not privy to the conversation (otherwise we might know more details). Indeed, the disciples nearly miss the event altogether, because despite the fact that Jesus’ clothes had become as bright as lightening they are barely awake. Again, they misunderstand the nature of the event (wanting to build dwellings) and again, not only do they not discuss what has happened with Jesus, they do not mention what they have seen to anyone.

It is only the voice from heaven that is directed to the disciples: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!’ The voice that spoke to Jesus at his baptism, now speaks to the disciples, urging them to pay attention, to take note, to listen. The voice may have had a dual purpose – reminding Jesus at this crucial point in his journey that he is beloved and chosen and encouraging the disciples to wake up and to fulfill their role as Jesus’ support crew.

Though intended specifically for Jesus, this event speaks to us in our own journeys through the world and especially to those times when the present threatens to crush us and when the future seems bleak. Instead of falling into despair, Jesus found time to pray, sought support from his friends and paid attention to presence of God. We too should seek solace in prayer, share our difficulties with those closest to us and be alert to the ways in which God might be encouraging us and lightening our load.

Let us pray that we are never so caught up in our own trials and tribulations that we fail to notice God’s breaking in with those momentary reprieves that enable us to continue with our journeys. Let us not miss the ‘pearls’ that God so generously gives us.

What sort of church?

February 13, 2021

Transfiguration – 2021

Mark 9:2-9

Marian Free

In the name of God whose presence in the world is independent of anything that we might do. Amen.

During the week I had the privilege of listening to Sam Wells, the current Rector of St Martin in the Fields in London. Our Diocese, in conjunction with Heartedge, an initiative of that church, has organised a number of presentations/discussions to help us think about the church after COVID and to discern the direction in which God might be calling us as we move forward[1]. In looking at the church before COVID (BC) and after COVID (AC) Sam distinguishes between “strategic church” and “tactic church”. Strategic church, he says, builds a citadel and makes occasional forays out of the citadel before returning to the safety of the base. “Strategic church” assumes, Sam argues, that Jesus ascended into heaven before he concluded his work on earth and that therefore it is up to the church to do that work for him. In this model, the church is ‘the principle and definitive way’ God continues to work (and to be known) in the world. “Tactic church” on the other hand has no fixed home base, nowhere to store it’s booty and survives through hand-to-hand engagements with those on the ground. “Tactic church” understands that Christ ‘plays in 10,000 places’[2] and is therefore not reliant on anyone least of all us. “Tactic church” does not have to be ‘the source from which all blessings flow.’

By way of illustration, Sam told the story of three women who got together to think how they might spend their Sunday mornings while their church was closed for repairs. One woman decided that she would go to a car boot sale, another to a Sunday league football games and the third to IKEA. Each Sunday they engaged with the people whom they met in those settings and learnt something about their lives. They were excited by their encounters and by what they experienced. After three weeks, when the church reopened for worship, they were genuinely unable to decide whether or not they should return. Their engagement with the community had opened their eyes to new ways of relating to and sharing the gospel with the world. They had discovered that church was not the sole source of relationship, nor the only place in which God could be encountered. In the words of one, their God was now too big for the church. Without having a name for their experience, the women had moved from “strategic church” to “tactic church”.

It could be argued that the Transfiguration illustrates the difference between “strategic church” and “tactic church”. A number of clues point in this direction. In the first instance Jesus’ meeting with Moses and Elijah is a clear reminder that Jesus is not restricted to time and place. If he is not bound by time and place, his ascension into heaven does not herald and end to his ministry – which existed before he began his earthly existence and will continue after his ascension. In other words, the church has no need to replace Jesus who continues to be present in the world – a core assumption of “tactic church”. 

Secondly, Peter’s reaction is telling and is probably a good example of the “strategic church” model. Peter (who, to be fair, is terrified) wants to hold on to the moment, to build booths for Moses, Elijah and Jesus. In other words, he seems to want to create a citadel from which ministry can be carried out – to freeze the moment in time so that it can be relived over and over. Jesus, however, is more interested in a church that is on the move, that is engaged with the world. Jesus promotes “tactic church”. He leads the disciples back down the mountain where they are immediately plunged into the fears, the hopes, the doubts and the faith of the community in which they live (9:14-29).

Then, there is the voice from heaven. You will recall that there was also a voice from heaven at Jesus’ baptism.  “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” The language here is very much the same: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”  but there is a significant difference. On the occasion of Jesus’ baptism, the voice from heaven was principally for Jesus’ benefit. On the mountain, the voice from heaven is for the disciples – “listen to him”. 

Finally, there is Jesus’ discussion with the disciples on the way down the mountain (their return to the mundane and the ordinary, to their engagement with the world). Jesus instructs the disciples not to tell anyone what they have seen “until the Son of Man had risen from the dead.” Peter, James and John have been given a glimpse of Jesus’ true nature, they have learnt that the one whom they follow is not bound by time and place and have been entrusted with the knowledge that even though Jesus will die, he will rise from the dead (be with them always). 

When the disciples are plunged back into the world, they carry with them God’s vision for the church – the glory of God cannot be contained in booths, God’s presence in the world cannot be limited to the three years of Jesus’ ministry, and the role of the disciples (the church) is to throw themselves into the lives of the community, where they will discover that Jesus is there ahead of them.

We, of course, have no idea what the world will look like post-COVID, nor can we begin to imagine how the church will emerge from this time of uncertainty and ambiguity. What we can be sure of is this – with or without us, God is at play in the world and God invites us to join in that grand adventure.


[1] A recording of the talk is available. https://www.facebook.com/theHeartEdge/videos/424181598801239

[2] From Gerald Manly Hopkins.

Glory and suffering

February 22, 2020

Transfiguration- 2020

Matthew 17:1-9

Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God, Earth Maker, Pain Bearer, Life Giver. Amen.

Six days later. It always seems such an odd way to begin a reading. Six days later than when? Why, when the gospel writers have no particular interest in time, is it important to be so exact on this occasion? What happened six days ago (at least in the telling of the story) that was sufficiently important that the readers needed to know the time frame? What is the symbolic meaning of those six days? Unfortunately for those who are curious there are no agreed explanations for the number six (Luke says 8) days. Our best guess is that Matthew and Mark are alluding to the time that Moses spent on the mountain when he received the law. What is clear though is that the gospel writers are drawing our attention to the fact that the events on the mountain are integrally related to and have to be interpreted in the light of what has come before. That is, Jesus’ transfiguration has to be seen and understood against the background of suffering which both precedes and follows the mountain top experience. Earthly and heavenly sit side-by-side. Jesus’ divinity can never be separated from his humanity, his glory cannot be severed from his humiliation.

Six days before Jesus took Peter, James and John with  him to the mountain, Jesus had thrown out a challenge to the disciples. “Who do people say that I am?” he asked. The disciples responded: “John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jesus then asked:  “But who do you say that I am?” To which Peter responded: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus commended Peter for his insight but immediately went on to redefine what it meant to be the Christ. It was not, as the disciples seem to expect, a way of glory or might. Being the Christ will not lead to power or to victory over Rome, but to suffering and to death. What is more, Jesus continued, those who wish to follow in his footsteps must prepare themselves for the same fate. “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

Jesus’ transfiguration affirms Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Son of God but the event is framed by suffering – Jesus’ prediction of his own suffering which precedes it and his reference to the suffering of John the Baptist which follows it.

Suffering and glory, ordinary and extraordinary are integrally linked in the gospel. They seem to be two sides of the same coin.

Together they provide an illustration of discipleship which, for the most part, will be mundane and ordinary, which will not protect us from suffering and pain (and in fact will, for some,  be the cause of their suffering and pain) but will give us moments of transcendence, clarity and peace that will provide strength and courage for the journey.

The Bible makes no attempt to suggest that a life of faith will protect us from harm or that doing God’s will will somehow shield us from danger – just the opposite is true. From beginning to end we are shown that placing our trust in God and responding to God’s call on our lives, exposes us to misunderstanding and possible rejection. Discipleship is counter-cultural, it means telling truth to power, standing up for what is right and protecting the poor, the marginalised and the vulnerable. Truth-telling is not always welcomed, mixing with or being inclusive of the outsider is often viewed with suspicion as is lifting them out of places of despair. Discipleship will not always win us friends or respect but sometimes the opposite. The prophets are threatened, exiled and thrown into cisterns. Jesus has only a brief period of being revered by the crowds before he is unceremoniously arrested, flogged and crucified.

Transcendence is only part of the story. The life of discipleship is often mundane and sometimes painful but there will be moments when God breaks through the cloud revealing a different reality and transfiguring our suffering into a future that we had not imagined was possible.

How good, Lord to be here.

March 2, 2019

Transfiguration – 2019fullsizeoutput_133a

Luke 9:28-36

Marian Free

In the name of God, transcendent yet immanent, awesome yet comforting, distant and yet as close as a breath. Amen.

“How good Lord to be here!” Whenever I choose the hymn with which we began this morning, I think that we should sing it every week! How good it is to be here! You may not realise this, but Michael and I have now been a part of this Parish for over eleven years – eleven years. That is long enough for you and I to be comfortable each other, way past the time when I might do something unexpected or surprising. With some exceptions, we do the same things week after week, year after year. We sing more or less the same hymns and we have the same preacher. It would not be surprising if, after all this time, our weekly worship might just be “more of the same”. Not at St Augustine’s! One of the real joys of serving this community is that more Sundays than not, at least one person leaves the church saying something to the effect of, “that was wonderful this morning”. To which I reply: “It always is.”

What a privilege and joy to be part of a community that finds our regular, repetitive Anglican gathering uplifting and joyful! How good it is to be here!

Why is it so good? It is good I believe, because in this place and at this time, we are transported out of our day-to-day lives into an experience that is transcendent and transformative. From the moment we enter the church we are confronted by the beauty and grandeur of the building and of the windows. It is obvious that we are in no ordinary place. Even someone with no faith at all cannot fail to be overwhelmed by the soaring roof, the warm timbers and the glorious colours. St Augustine’s is magnificent but in no way is it imposing or unwelcoming. Many who see the interior for the first-time comment on the beautiful feeling that seems to emanate from the walls. We are blessed to worship in a space that is both transcendent and familiar, in which we are both filled with awe and made to feel at home.

How good it is to be here. While our corporate worship might be formal and uplifting it is also comfortable and relaxed. Individually and corporately, we experience the presence of God through our hymns, our readings and, of course, through the Eucharist. Our familiarity with the words and with the pattern of the liturgy does not blunt our awareness of what it is that we do, nor are we allowed to forget that the God whom we worship is both here with us and yet just beyond our grasp. Our worship is moving, uplifting, informative and joyful. It is comforting and reassuring as much as it is awe-inspiring.

Yet though we might be transported by the beauty of our surroundings or deeply moved by the experience of worship, we are also grounded and in touch with the world from which we have been drawn. This helps us to maintain the balance between the transcendent and the immanent (to use the technical terms), to remember who we are and who and what God is. We have to be careful that we are not so enchanted with the experience of God’s presence, not so caught up in the transcendence of the moment that we lose sight of our mission to the world. Our experience of worship may seem to take us to another dimension but that must not cause us to lose sight of the fact that God is as present in our day-to-day living as God is present in our “mountain-top” experiences.

In today’s gospel it is Peter who says: “How good for us to be here!” Peter, with James and John has accompanied Jesus up a mountain to pray. Before their very eyes, not only is Jesus transformed, but Moses and Elijah appear and speak with him. It is as if heaven itself has opened up and gathered the disciples in. Peter’s awe-struck response is to try to capture the moment, to freeze it in time so that he with James and John, can spend the remainder of their lives caught up in this extraordinary moment – never again to have to engage with the nitty gritty of everyday existence.

Peter has yet to understand the reality of Jesus’ ministry, a reality that will be played out in his own life of discipleship. To be a follower of Jesus, he will learn, is not to live one’s life on an exalted spiritual plane but to be fully engaged with the human experience. Peter will come to know that moments of transcendence such as this are not to be held on to, but are to inform and energise the mundane, difficult and sometimes dangerous day-to-day work of being a follower of Jesus.

This morning’s hymn ends: “How good, Lord, to be here, yet we may not remain; but since you bid us leave the mount, come with us to the plain.”

However good it is to be here, our call is to take our knowledge of God into the world, to fully engage with everyday realities, both good and bad. We come here week by week for our mountain-top experience. Consciously and deliberately we bring ourselves into the presence of God. For this one hour we focus intentionally on our relationship with God. In this time and place we allow ourselves to be inspired, fed and nurtured so that reinvigorated, renewed and transformed, we can go into the world and live lives that are infused with the presence of God and the knowledge of God’s presence.

In Jesus, heaven and earth meet

February 10, 2018

Transfiguration – 2018

Mark 9:2-9

Marian Free

 In the name of God whose presence is revealed in unexpected places and at unexpected times. Amen.

“Thin places” are those places that were identified by the ancient Celts as sites where the barriers between humans and gods were particularly porous. Such sites were believed to be endowed with a particular sort of energy that was strong enough to be felt. In the United Kingdom such thin places were/are often associated with geographic boundaries or crossing places of one kind or another. Islands such as the Island of Iona – cut off from the land and sometimes invisible thanks to fog – were considered thin places. Fog itself and low hanging clouds which mysteriously hide a place from view give an air of mystery to glens and mountain peaks which in turn led to their being seen as places where the boundaries between heaven and earth were not only thin, but could on occasions be broken to allow passage between one world and the next.

The notion of ‘thin places’ is responsible for the practices that are associated with Halloween. It was believed that at that time of the year the barriers between this world and the next were opened up and that at that time the dead rose to trouble the living. Hugh bonfires were built to scare off the spirits and food and drink were prepared so that the spirits would be appeased and would not spoil the crops.

A Google search reveals that the idea “thin places” has been popularised in recent times by those seeking (or indeed having) spiritual experiences in “thin places” – old and new. An article in the New York Times offers travel advice regarding the author’s concept of places in which one might have encounters that unsettle and that challenge a person’s view of the world and of themselves. A blog entitled “Thin Places” offers tours of the “thin places” in Ireland.

When Augustine arrived in England he noticed that particular sites were popular with the locals. He wrote to Pope Gregory seeking guidance. The Pope responded that rather than abandoning such sites Augustine should capitalise on their popularity. Glastonbury Abbey being one such place. The “thin places” of the Celts became places of worship for the Christians in Britain.

While the terminology of “thin places” had its origin among pre-Christian religions, the notion of there being times and places in which God might be encountered has its roots deep within the Judeo-Christian tradition. In Genesis for example Adam and Eve are said to walk and talk with God, Abraham argues with God and Jacob wrestles all night with God. Later, Moses speaks to God face-to-face and Elijah sees God pass by. In the tradition of Israel, mountaintops shrouded in cloud were particularly significant as it was on Mount Sinai that Moses spoke directly to God.

Jesus’ Incarnation represents God breaking into the world in a dramatic and novel way, tearing down the barriers between sacred and mundane, bringing together in Jesus’ own self the human and divine. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke reveal Jesus’ nature through their accounts of Jesus’ birth, but Mark reveals this mystery only gradually – first to Jesus’ disciples and then to all.

The readers of the Gospel know the secret of Jesus’ identity because they are exposed to the new reality from the very start of Mark’s account. At Jesus’ baptism, Mark tells us, the heavens were torn asunder and a voice spoke from heaven. The tearing of the heavens and the voice of God are, in this instance, for Jesus alone (and in time for those reading Mark’s gospel). Mark suggests that though the disciples are in the presence of the divine (Jesus), they don’t seem to be aware of Jesus’ true nature. On many occasions they reveal that they do not understand, they are afraid even when Jesus is present with them and Jesus has reason to chide them for their lack of faith.

At the climax of the gospel, Peter identifies Jesus as the Christ (8:29) but his refusal to accept that Jesus will suffer demonstrates that he really doesn’t get it, he cannot yet see beyond the material and physical to the spiritual and immaterial. Six days after Peter’s declaration about Jesus he is taken, with James and John: “up a high mountain apart, by themselves”. Here once more heaven is opened, but this time there are witnesses. The figures of Moses and Elijah are seen not only by Jesus, but by the three disciples who not only witness Jesus’ heavenly transformation, but who also are enveloped in a cloud in which they hear the voice of God speaking directly to them: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” It is as if Jesus recognises that the disciples need to be shaken out of their old ways of thinking, they need to be confronted with something amazing and inexplicable that will challenge their certainties and open them to the presence of God in their midst.

Just as Moses had a direct experience of God on the mountaintop so now, centuries later, do these three tentative, timid disciples encounter God and hear God’s voice. The veil between heaven and earth has been drawn aside for this one moment in time revealing to them the nature of Jesus and the nature of Jesus’ relationship with God. The divine and the human met together in one person, the eternal breaking through into the temporary changing forever the nature of our existence.

In Jesus, God is always with us. Talking about “thin places” is just one way to express the truth that throughout our lives we meet God in extraordinary places and in extraordinary ways, in the sacred and in the profane, in the natural world and in the people who cross our paths. Such experiences might take place in a Cathedral or on a busy street, when we are transfixed by an amazing view or moved by extraordinary poverty, when we are uplifted by a piece of beautiful music or the laughter of a child. If we are open to the presence of God in the world around us we will recognise these moments as in time and place where heaven and earth meet. If we allow God to meet us in this way our lives will be richer, our joy fuller and our faith deeper. Like Jesus, we will be transformed into what we are really meant to be.

 

 

Glory and humiliation

February 25, 2017

Transfiguration – 2017

Matthew 17:1-9

Marian Free

In the name of God who can transfigure and transform those who, with Jesus, are willing to accept that the way of faith may just be the way of the cross. Amen.

The very public and tragic meltdowns of someone like Grant Hackett are a stark reminder of how difficult it is for a person whose life has been spent in the limelight and the constant affirmation that success brings, to deal with life afterwards. If their sense of identity and purpose has been tied up in their sport and their success in that sport, it may be extraordinarily difficult to forge a new life, a new identity and a sense of purpose after retirement.

“Everything that goes up must come down,” the saying goes. Most of us know that highs of life are very often followed by lows. When a great party ends and we are left with the cleaning up, or when friends who have stayed for a while leave to go home, we can be left with a sense of emptiness, a lack of direction and no way to fill our days. We would like the good times to go on forever but life is not like that.

Traditionally – from the ninth century onwards – the feast of the Transfiguration was celebrated on August 6th. When the Lectionary was updated about 22 years ago the festival was moved to the last Sunday of Epiphany, the Sunday immediately prior to Lent. In this new position the feast day does a number of things. It acts as a bridge between Epiphany and Lent, it reminds us that our faith did not emerge in a vacuum, that it has its roots in the ancient stories of Moses and Elijah, it points us forward to Jesus’ resurrection and Ascension and in its context it highlights the tensions between glory and humiliation that are not only part and parcel of Jesus’ life, but which can be expected in the life of everyone who chooses to follow him.

When the Transfiguration is celebrated on the Sunday before Lent it serves as a stark reminder that Jesus’ glorification came at a cost – that of complete submission to God and of the acceptance of God’s will in his life. In some ways it reverses the account of the temptation of Jesus that we will hear next week. Just to remind you, before Jesus’ ministry began he came to John to be baptised. As he came out of the water he heard a voice from heaven declaring “This is my Son the Beloved”. It is heady stuff especially if, as the gospel implies, only Jesus hears the voice. You can just imagine what might be going through Jesus’ head at that moment. He has come to be baptised and in the process learned that he is none other than God’s Son. What could he do with such power? He could perform miracles in the way that magician would perform magic tricks, he could behave recklessly and expect that he would come to no harm or, better still he could rule the whole world! As the Son of God nothing would be beyond his power or his reach!

Amazingly, despite the temptation to do otherwise, Jesus chooses NOT to take advantage of his divinity, choosing instead to allow the power of God to work through him not for him.

The occasion of the Transfiguration is, as I said, almost the reverse. Jesus has by now begun his ministry, chosen disciples and sent them out as his representatives. According to Matthew, just six days prior to the journey up the mountain Peter has made Jesus’ identity known to the disciples: “You are the Christ, the son of the living God”. Jesus’ secret is out. Here is his opportunity to shine, to share with the disciples what the Son of God can and will do, but Jesus is clear, his role is not to seek his own glory but to take the path that God has chosen – a path that will lead to suffering and to the cross. If he ever had a desire for power and glory it was defeated long ago, his role now is to convince the disciples that they too must follow the path that he has chosen.

Following Peter’s declaration, that he is the Christ Jesus goes – not to the desert – but to the mountain. Here, instead of facing the temptation to seek power and glory, he has power and glory bestowed upon him. As if it is a pledge of what is to come, Jesus is transfigured, he speaks with the prophets of long ago and once more a voice from heaven declares: “This is my Son the Beloved”. Jesus has made the right choices and has made it clear that he will follow through to the bitter end. There on the mountain and before the disciples God affirms Jesus’ choice and gives both Jesus and the disciples who are with him a glimpse of what is to come. A moment of transcendence and affirmation that will sustain them through the bitterness of betrayal and the humiliation of the cross.

For Jesus the euphoria of his baptism was followed by the trials of the desert, the affirmation of Peter by the announcement of his death and resurrection, the mountain to experience by his mundane human existence and the misunderstanding and foolishness of the disciples. If it was so for Jesus it will be no less true for us. Our lives of faith will not be lived on some exalted plateau of spiritual experience from which we never descend. There will be moments of doubt, times of anxiety and occasions of temptation and humiliation. In our faith journey, we may soar to the clouds but we may also come crashing down to earth. We may feel enveloped by God’s love and we may feel utterly abandoned. But, if we hold to our course, we will be affirmed, encouraged and ultimately transformed.