note; here are today's worship notes to conclude my series based on Brueggemann's
Introduction
The Feast of the Transfiguration –
Paul’s challenge to present our bodies as a living sacrifice – AND Psalm 37’s
invitation to move from fretting to trusting in equanimity: what a GREAT Sunday for the grey-haired
preacher! I love these texts –
they are among my favorite – and
it is the last Sunday before the start of Lent, too! What an incredible
privilege to share all of this with you this day. I know some people are turned on by
cars – or gadgets – maybe even the Super Bowl – but not me: I am a
Bible-loving, spirituality hungry, church geek who, when given a winning hand
like the texts for this morning ; well, let’s just say: my cup runneth over!
So on this day when I’m bringing to
a close my worship series about what wisdom the ancient prophets of Israel have
to offer 21st century Americans, I want to assure you that today
we’re heading into the realm of hope. For the past four weeks, we’ve been
addressing how reality pushes us into a necessary and potentially
transformative grief – what the prophets like to call learning to wait upon the
Lord or relinquishment. In the poetry of the Psalms, we are told: Let go of wrath and forsake rage, do not be
incensed to do evil; but be still and wait upon the Lord. Do not fret, but
trust God.
If you take away NOTHING from this
series except the importance of waiting upon the Lord – refusing to rush
towards simple-minded or self-centered solutions – I will feel blessed. But my heart wants you to also embrace one
more insight: hope comes from God
and is not manufactured by anything we think, say or do. We neither create hope
with positive vibes and wishful thinking nor earn it by good behavior or
pedigree. As Professor Brueggemann
writes: the arrival of hope cannot “be filled with human plans, blueprints,
schedules, budgets, creeds or six easy steps:
hope only fills our hearts by that which God gives.”
But here’s the paradox – and it is
particularly pertinent for 21st century people who are not only
distracted by the countless diversions available everyday for our entertainment,
but are also over-worked, over-stressed, over-extended and under-rested – these
realities cloud our comprehension of a foundational spiritual truth: while hope is always born of the Lord, hope must also be nurtured by an obedient imagination and a radical trust of God’s grace. These
two practices prepare the soil of our hearts for a harvest of the fruits of the
Holy Spirit that will not wither and fade like desert grass.
Insights
That’s what St. Paul is emphasizing
at the close of his career: an obedient
imagination and a radical trust in God’s grace.
When he started, like many of us, he was a hot-head: he knew better than everyone else – his
tradition included. So he lived like his wisdom and his hardships were at the
center of the universe. You can still
find some of this unredeemed narcissism in his writings, but as he matured –
and was humbled – it became less onerous.
Perhaps you’ve noticed that the Bible
is full of characters just like Paul – good people who are too full of
themselves – so they have to get knocked down a few notches before they can
advance God’s kingdom? There’s Jonah who when asked by God
to bring a word of hope to a sinful city not only ran away from God to avoid
talking to people he believed were below him – during which time he was
swallowed by a whale only to be dumped at the doorstep of those he despised –
but then pouts and sulks like a petulant adolescent after the sinners he
dislikes actually change their ways and respond to God’s grace! There’s the friends of Job who,
rather than sit with their suffering comrade in silence and solidarity, decide
to tell Job all the things he’s probably done wrong that warrant God’s wrath. Apparently these so-called friends were
unmoved by Job’ physical agony, emotional distress and spiritual grief
be-cause… they knew better.
And then
there’s St. Peter in today’s gospel who often spoke before thinking and
believed that his insights and troubles were more important than anyone else’s;
he’ the kind of guy who had there been email in his day would have hit the send
button well before thinking through the consequences of his arrogant advice and
then complain when others became offended or upset by his callous
insensitivity. There are a host of
Biblical characters that enact this same story over and over in the Scriptures
because it is part of the human condition.
All of us, at one time or another, really do believe that our ideas and
problems are more important, more demanding and more unique than anyone else’s.
This is, of course, foolish, hurtful
and self-absorbed and the reason why the Bible also gives us the mature and
humbled reflections of some of these souls – like Peter and Paul – both of whom
came to see that our spiritual worship, that which is good, acceptable, mature
and pleasing before the Lord, has to do with present-ing our bodies as a living
sacrifice to God and our minds as an offering for trans-formation. Our bodies –
that is our habits, actions, commitments, and lived values – are to become
living proof of our radical trust. And our minds are to be bathed, baptized
and cleansed in obedient imagination; transformed, if you will, rather than
conformed and addicted to the culture’s lowest common denominator. I really appreciate Eugene Peterson’s
retranslation of Romans 12 because it opens up the heart of this text:
Here’s what I want
you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping,
eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an
offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for God.
Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even
thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside
out. Readily recognize what God wants from you and quickly respond to it.
Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of
immaturity, God seeks to brings the best out of you, develops well-formed
maturity in you.
Nourish an obedient
imagination and embody a radical trust in God’s grace. And as we’re just about to enter the journey of Lent, let
me highlight three insights that this penitential season encourages us to
embrace as both a faith community and individuals.
First, the whole “do not fret” business
from Psalm 37: this is imperative. Now I know that most of
us will never fully matriculate from the university of non-anxious
living – we’ll most likely have to keep going back for refresher courses in
trust and rest and prayer for our whole lives – but if we don’t cultivate a con-scious
commitment to contemplation and altered thinking… than we are to blame for our perpetual anxiety, stress and
exhaustion, not the Lord. God gives us
the tools, but we have to use them.
That’s what the apostle Paul is telling us when he writes present your
bodies and minds as living sacrifices: something in us has to die and be reborn according to God’s grace and love before we will live more consistently within
Christ’s peace. Prayer, quiet time, meditation,
mantras, contemplation are all tools that cultivate the experience of serenity
– and there is no substitute, short-cut or appeal because of extenuating
circumstances. If we truthfully want to
enter into the blessings of grace and have our strength renewed by God’s hope,
then we have to do our part by using the tools God has given to us to end our
fretting.
In some circles the story is told of
a young woman who one day walked into a church and began to pray:' 'Listen Lord,
I know I haven't been perfect but I really need to win the lottery. I don't have a
lot of money. So please help me out.'' She left the church feeling she had been
honest in her prayer so waited for the pay off.After a week went by, however, and it was clear that she hadn't
won the lottery, she walked into a synagogue. ''Come on, Lord, I really need
this money. My mom needs surgery and I have bills to pay. So please let me win
the lottery.'' She left the synagogue confidently and waited. And after another
week passed, and she still hadn’t won the lottery, she fumed into a mosque and
started to pray: ''You are really starting to try my patience and disappoint
me, God. I've prayed and prayed. If you just let me win the lottery, I'll be a
better person. I don't have to win the jackpot, I just need enough to get out
of debt. I'll even give some to charity if you just let me win.'' And with
that, she got up and walked outside. Suddenly
the clouds opened, thunder cracked and a booming voice from within the
cosmos proclaimed, ''Hey, woman, help me out: at least buy a ticket?''
The first challenge when it comes to nourishing an obedient
imagination and radical trust is clear: fret not. And the only way to learn this is
to meet God in the regular practice of prayer, meditation or some type of
contemplation that alters our traditional selfish and fear-filled habits.
The second challenge has to do with practicing silence. The gospel story
about Peter shooting off his mouth before thinking holds great promise for
those who want to live as Christ’s servants. And practicing biting our tongue,
training our voices to speak from love rather than impulse, and learning to share the fruits of the Holy
Spirit in our words rather than just what our passing emotions suggest is what being
transformed rather than conformed to the lowest cultural common
denominator is all about. Compare the talk you hear on so-called reality shows
like “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” “Bridezilla” or “Pawn Stars” alongside
the humility and compassion of ancient Israel’s prophets. I’m not saying don’t
watch TV – even the trashy stuff – just remember: garbage in, garbage out.
The perspective of the prophets was
clear: if God’s people were ever to
learn that being chosen had nothing to do with blood lines, ancestry or
religious ritual and everything to do with a Sabbath-centered life that shared
compassion and justice with their neighbors, they needed to practice being
still and listening, watching and waiting to what was happening all around
them. Most simply, the prophetic task has to do with shutting-up and paying
attention rather than making pronouncements of control. This is hard for all
people but it is especially complex for those who have become accustomed to
getting their own way whether that’s white privilege or heterosexism, the
habits of wealth or so-called American exceptionalism or just learning how to
share resources and space with our multi-faith neighbors.
When Jesus went to pray upon Mt.
Hermon, the highest mountain in the region we now know as Lebanon, he had a
mystical experience involving Moses and Elijah.
Moses was the father of Jewish Law who gave us the commandments and the
Sabbath and Elijah was the symbol of the ancient prophets. In this time of mystical prayer, Jesus was
embraced by the Law and the Prophets – the heart of his tradition and ours – in
a way that sounds like Psalm 133? Do you know it? It is one of the other places where Mt.
Hermon is mentioned as goes: How good and pleasant it is when brothers
and sisters dwell together in unity… it is like the dew which falls on Mt.
Hermon and waters the desert.
I see
Jesus in numinous communion with the very heart of God’s truth – until Peter wakes
up. And in typical Petrine fashion blurts out without thinking: let’s
institutionalize all this goodness right now, Lord, then we can stay up on the
mountain forever. Now, you may recall that while Jesus loved Peter, on another
occasion after Peter shot off his mouth without thinking, Jesus told him: “Get thee behind me, Satan,” right? And don’t
forget the time he said: “This very night before the cock crows three times you
will betray me.” So learning to be still and humble – willing to be led rather
than lead – is another resource for nourishing an obedient imagination and
radical trust. So much so that this text concludes with God announcing: This is my beloved… LISTEN to him. Be still – be quiet – and then you will know!
And that leads to the third challenge: encouragement. None of this is easy. If we discern anything from
today’s gospel it is that even Jesus needed divine and wise counsel and
encouragement to do his ministry – so what about us? My professor of homiletics
at Union Theological Seminary in NYC, the Reverend Dr. James Forbes, recently
published an article in Sojourners
Magazine entitled “The Vocation of Encouragement” in which he wrote:
The
gospel account of the transfiguration of Jesus comes at a time when we
Suffice
it to say that there seems to be an ominous shadow of decay and decline falling
across many paths before us.
In truth-telling, Brother Forbes is articulating the prophetic
task as we have been considering it. And true to this calling, he carries us from
reality and it’s nearly immobilizing grief to signs of hope born of the Lord
when he says: When Jesus
was turning towards Jerusalem and the life and death encounter he would be
facing there, God provided him a faith-fortifying experience of encouragement
which gave him the overcoming power of endurance which not even death could
destroy.
There is, you see, a pattern of encouragement in God’s love that
people of faith “can rely upon as we face the challenge of pressing on into the
strong winds of opposition” with trust.
A quick survey of the events in the short life of Jesus shows that
“encouragement was a crucial element in sustaining him to persevere in his
ministry of teaching, preaching, healing, and wrestling with principalities and
powers.” Think of the encouragement of Mary and Joseph shared with their young
son, the encouragement of the teachers of the law as they talked with Jesus at
age 12. Consider the encouragement of the heavenly affirmation as Jesus arose
from the waters of baptism and heard God proclaim yet again this is my beloved.
Or the encouragement of the anointing Jesus received in the home of Mary,
Martha, and Lazarus at Bethany before the Passion. Can you imagine the impact
of such affirmations upon the spirit of Jesus?
Conclusion
Through the lens of a life-time of
encouragement, the details of this story – the transfiguration – take on a
heightened significance – all the more so as we are about to enter the
observance of Lent. Back in the day we used to speak of the Lenten journey as a
Trinity of spiritual disciplines: fasting, prayer and almsgiving. Fasting
is all about the emptiness – silence; prayer is all about listening to
God’s grace rather than our fears – do not fret; and almsgiving,
sharing, is using our resources to help another – encouragement.
What would it be like for you – for me – and for our faith
community if we playfully embraced these practices this Lent? Specifically, what would it be like if we took a fast from
complaining and filled up the emptiness with encourage-ment? If we listened to one another – and God –
more than we spoke? And when we did
speak, if it was to help one another on the journey of love and hope? Pope Francis recently asked believers to
give up their indifference to the suffering of others this Lent – forget
chocolate and booze – what about letting go of our indifference – and I think
he’s on to something. So what would it mean if we –
individually and as a church – made a commitment this year to 40 days of
encouragement? I know I would be blessed
– maybe you would be too?
So here’s what I
want you to do: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating,
going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.
Do not fret Do not remain so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it
without even thinking. Instead, be still – encourage one another in love – and
listen to the Lord’s beloved in faith.
Sing with me: Amen…
credits:
Amen.
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