The Rev. Neale L. Miller

Sermon for February 22, 2009

Texts: Exodus 24:12-18/Matthew 17:1-9

Title: “Transfiguration”

              My first acquaintance with ritual came at an early age.  Saturday night and Sunday morning at the Millers followed a consistent pattern.  First there was the Saturday night bath.  Next the Sunday wardrobe; the suit, the white shirt, and the little clip-on bow tie was laid out.  [By the time I was twelve my tie collection numbered about half a dozen, the tie being the only part of the wardrobe that varied week to week.]  After the clothes were laid out the shoes were next.  I had my school shoes and I had my Sunday shoes. The Sunday shoes got special treatment, a good buffing every Saturday night, and a fresh coat of polish at least once a month. If the condition of my soul were to be judged on the appearance of my shoes I would have shown up very well.

              Growing up I never really questioned why my parents put so much emphasis on church-going rituals.  The bath, a white shirt and tie, and the freshly polished shoes were just what we did.  But rituals are like that, aren’t they?  They are just “what we do; life on auto-pilot.

              Religious practices tend to be highly ritualized.  The church follows a pretty well defined worship ritual, a ritual to which we devote little thought.  Weekly repetition has engrained our rituals within us, what we do from beginning to the end of a service like this one is activity as familiar to most of us as taking the Sunday wardrobe out of the closet and shining my shoes was once familiar to me.

              Rituals form around activity for a number of reasons, and efficiency is at the top of the list. Ritual gives what we do shape and form, relieving us of the burden of thinking all the time. We don’t have to innovate.  Saturday night we got ready for church.  Sunday night we got ready for school Monday morning.  Saturday morning we cleaned the house.  Saturday afternoon we mowed the lawn.  Rituals give coherence to life.  Their predictability offers comfort amid a world and circumstances whose unpredictability can be threatening.

              We honor things we value through ritual.  The rituals we enact on Sunday mornings are designed to express our adoration for God.  Each part of the worship ritual is a special witness to the awe and power God inspires. 

              Before I paid much attention to sanctuary furnishing or their significance, my young mind fastened on what I brought to the space. I associated church with a suit, a white shirt and polished shoes.  They were a fundamental part of the ritual through which I learned to honor God.

              This gown I wear, a Geneva gown to be precise, origins dating to the Protestant Reformation, fits with our ritual.  The clergy reformers of the 16th century wore those plain black unadorned robes to distinguish themselves from their brothers in the Roman church whose taste in dress ran to the finely tailored, colorful, even gaudy, presentations.   

              The gown, like the chasuble---the robe the priest wears today---is symbolic of church officer, but it is also a means to demonstrate our respect and reverence for God.  Clothing, datable to Old Testament times, has played a prominent role in worship traditions.  You can read lengthy descriptions in the book of Exodus, Leviticus, and elsewhere that demonstrate just how attentive the people were to clergy dress. Verse after verse lays out in careful detail how the priest was to dress for worship.

              Rituals of dress make important statements, a fact no one who has ever seen a Mardi Gras parade could possibly deny.  Of course, krewe members are introduced to many rituals by virtue of their membership in a krewe about which we who watch the parades have not a clue.  

              Great ritual has evolved to honor God; those rituals often carried out in places carefully, even meticulously designed and erected to give testimony to God’s awe and power. As much as the rituals we use in honoring God, the places where we gather to honor him reveal a great deal about our attitude toward God. 

              The place where God is worshiped has always been a priority for God’s people, as was certainly the case for the ancient Hebrews.  The Hebrews believed that the Jerusalem temple was God’s habitation on earth.  Grand scale, bold in vision, the Temple represented a peoples’ effort to glorify God, not a god or gods like the gods to which the people around them paid homage, but the God who reigned supreme over the vast heavens and earth.   

              The rituals we establish and the buildings we build in God’s honor make major theological statements. What we think about God gets worked out in the buildings we build, our worship practices and liturgies, even the clothing we wear.

              Many of you have visited the great cathedrals of Europe.  Decades, even centuries, in the construction, those cathedrals make a bold and exquisite statement about God.  If you were able to linger for a service of worship in one of the cathedrals you know that the ritual was equally impressive.

              The awe and transcendence of God evokes our response in sacred spaces and sacred rituals. Awe and transcendence, of course, are the theme of the event we mark today, transfiguration. 

              Considering the number of options that God had in getting the peoples’ attention, what Peter, James and John experienced on the mountain of Transfiguration, though impressive, must be regarded as comparatively mild stuff.  That said, however, what those three apostles of Jesus encountered was definitely God in his glory.  They witnessed a three-part spectacle that included the transfiguration of Jesus, “his face [shining] like the sun and his clothes dazzling white”; a cameo appearance by two of the greatest prophets in Jewish history, Moses and Elijah, and to top things off, they heard the voice of God ring out, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” The spectacle the apostles experienced was so grand and powerful they were driven to their knees in awe.

              So commanding was the experience that Peter sought Jesus’ approval to ritualize the event:  “I’ll make three dwelling places, Lord [think of monuments or memorials], one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” Peter felt compelled to make a response to the glory he witnessed.

              The transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain was an event to which the gospel writers point in celebrating the divinity of Jesus. Yes, Jesus was the son of Mary and Joseph, born in the Bethlehem stable, but the transfiguration re-cast Jesus’ life. His parentage was not merely human, but also divine.  The transfiguration unequivocally certifies that Jesus is God’s own son, but it is through Jesus’ activity in the world that his wisdom and power were revealed to the world.

In the transfiguration event on the mountain Jesus’ divinity was revealed. Jesus, however, did not remain on the mountain. No, Jesus came down.

              Jesus came down the mountain with his disciples, and what was the first thing the three wanted to do?  They wanted to share what they experienced.  They were inspired to tell their story, just as the church has been inspired to tell that same story through great buildings and ritual.  But Jesus stopped his disciples in their tracks, “Not a word, say nothing of what you have seen,” and he added, “until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” 

              The trajectory of Jesus’ life put him on a collision course with a reality his disciples could not begin to comprehend as they journeyed with him back into the world.  Two opposing images vied for room in the disciples’ minds: Jesus was God’s own son, transcendent and divine.  But Jesus was also their daily companion, their brother, teacher, and friend. 

              Two opposing images.  Left unresolved for the disciples as they came down the mountain was one very basic question: Who is this Jesus, anyway, and what did this business about rising from the dead mean?” And, importantly, what impact might that have for their lives?  All things considered, life on the mountain might be preferred to what lie ahead.

              Some time ago I spoke with a man who was a member of a Presbyterian delegation representing our denomination in conversation with the members of the Vatican.  During their visit to the Vatican, this group of ten or so Presbyterians, were granted a private audience with Pope John Paul II.  In describing his visit the man shared an aside that injected some personality into his story.  The man described the Vatican salon in which the meeting took place as regal, as one might expect.  He went on to give a rather detailed description of the Pope.  The Pope was at that time suffering form advanced case of Parkinson’s and osteoporosis.  Drawing near to shake the Pope’s hand, our friend was impressed with the artistry displayed in the robes he was wearing.  The quality of workmanship was apparent even to the casual observer.  One, of course, would expect the Pope to be dressed impressively.  What was unexpected turned out to be the shoes the Pope was wearing.  John Paul’s shoes were described as being as scuffed and beat-up as any shoes you are likely to see.

              His Holiness in scuffed shoes; not at all what you might expect to see.  The two images, a regal Pope and scuffed shoes, collide.  Yet when you think about it the images don’t collide, for Pope John Paul built a reputation by traveling around the world, his commitment to social and economic justice, world peace, and reconciliation taking him to the most inhospitable places, places where you are likely to get your shoes scuffed.

              Present one moment to see the appearance of Jesus transfigured into something other-worldly, the disciples traveled back down the mountain into a world where Jesus’ holiness and transcendence would be displayed in far more mundane ways.  When you get down to it, “his holiness in scuffed shoes” is a pretty good description of Jesus. Jesus did not build his reputation by remaining on the mountain of transfiguration.  Jesus was willing to scuff his shoes.  Wherever people are in need, where there is tragedy, where there is neglect, where there is injustice, where there is suffering and pain, you will find Jesus.

              The Church has established many rituals to honor God.  We have built glorious houses of worship in which to enact those rituals.  We experience the transcendent power of God alive in us when we engage in our rituals, when we gather in our houses of worship.  We feel connected to God through spiritual disciplines like prayer, fasting, and contemplation.  We feel the spirit of God drawing us near to him. 

              Spiritual disciplines and rituals are extremely important in shaping a Christian identity, but it is only through our willingness to go to those places that Jesus went that the full meaning of discipleship is revealed. Jesus leads his disciples to places where shoes get scuffed, where the cries of affliction are heard, where humans struggle to feed and clothe themselves, where they suffer injustice and neglect.  The road to which Jesus points leads into the world, our personal transformation as his disciples is a byproduct of our service to others, beginning with the least in the kingdom.  We give honor and glory to God in worship, but it must not stop there.  True discipleship is expressed in going where Jesus went and doing what Jesus did.

              PRAYER

Lord of life, holy is your name, and endless is your reign upon the earth.  Acknowledging your sovereignty, sovereignty that extents over all things in heaven and on earth, we gather today in prayer and adoration for such is your will. Created to praise and honor you, we use the often inadequate mediums of words and song to express what you, O God, have placed on our hearts.  Accept what we bring, inadequate as it may be, as our thank offering to you, and may what we offer to you in word and song today be completed in action.

             Lord, many of us reserve prayer and worship for Sunday morning.  Too busy or too overwhelmed by other concerns throughout the week, we attempt to compress into one hour that which requires time and attention.  Even as we fail to make space for you, we live our lives in the space you created. From this narrow aperture through which we view the world we perceive so little of the reality in which we actually live. Help us attain greater breadth of understanding, and sufficient maturity to act on what we learn. 

              Hatred and violence daily command headline coverage in the news. The citizens of Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan live under the tyranny of terrorists. In Israel, relations between Jews and Palestinians continue in their downward spiral, each side vigorously justifying their actions as lives and resources are destroyed.  Wars continue to be waged with no resolution in sight. Hatred is destined to be the legacy our generation leaves to future generations. In your mercy, O God, intervene to save us, lest the world be destroyed through man’s folly.

              Abide with those we have elected to serve us in our city government. Suspicion and distrust continue to prevent our city’s leaders from doing what they might to address the many serious issues our city faces. May constructive dialogue lead to action that will make New Orleans a safer and more hospitable place to live, and visitors to visit.

              We pray for a peaceful outcome as the season of Mardi Gras moves to its crescendo on Tuesday.  Even as you watch over, O God, those who are responsible for maintaining order, we pray that those who line the parade routes enjoy the festivities in good humor and safety.

              Uphold all who experience loss this day.  Attend the mourning, the recently divorced, the lonely who feel isolated and forgotten.  In your grace bring relief to the overwrought and discouraged.  Grant courage and hope to the unemployed or underemployed as they attempt to establish themselves.  Be with those who are struggling in school that they may not succumb to defeatism.  Abide with the sick who feel cut off from life.  Embrace those, O God, who feel isolated from others as a result of physical or emotional impairment.

              The whole world is in your hands, O God, and we are in your hands.  Acknowledging your presence with us today, we bring before you our special concerns..