March 2, 2014 – Matthew 17:1-9
Matthew 17:1-9
Transformed Glory
Transfiguration Sunday – March 2, 2014
First Lutheran Church – Winnipeg, MB
The transfiguration on the mountain is one of those once in a lifetime Technicolor events.
You have to realize that for the disciples, up until this moment,
life with Jesus has been pretty down-to-earth, and a lot of hard work.
They’ve trudged with him all over Galilee, helping him in his work of
blessing and healing and feeding and forgiving.
Maybe it’s been disheartening. I don’t know. I imagine it was.
I’m not sure what they were expecting when they signed on with Jesus,
but it probably wasn’t all of this very mundane work.
So Jesus takes them up on a mountain.
Mountains are places where God reveals God’s self to people in the Bible.
Jesus takes Peter and James and John up on a mountain –
and he begins to shine.
He is filled with light, literally it says he shines “white as light.”
It’s a glimpse of who Jesus truly is, majestic, glorious, divine.
And as if to reinforce this, a voice comes from the cloud saying,
“This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him!”
Understandably, this rattles the disciples a little.
Okay: it rattles them a lot.
It rattles them so much they fall to the ground, cowering in fear.
They are terrified.
And what does Jesus do?
He lays aside all his majesty and all his glory and does a very simple, human thing:
he touches them and raises them up.
It’s true that Jesus’ appearance is transfigured or changed into someone majestic and
glorious and divine this morning, and the name of the day comes from that change.
But it’s also true – and perhaps even more important – that the majesty and glory and
divinity is almost immediately transformed or transfigured into something useful to
the disciples in their fear.
It is all changed in an instant into something very human and very mundane:
a gentle healing touch, that transforms fear into courage,
that transforms fear into love,
that transforms fear into the ability to follow Jesus back down the mountain and
transform other lives with that same healing transforming human touch.
It’s a helpful exercise to trace in Matthew’s Gospel all the times Jesus touches people
up to this point.
He touched and healed a leper, and he touched and healed Peter’s mother-in-law (8:3, 15).
He touched and healed the blind, and he touched and raised a dead girl to life (9:29, 25).
It’s such a simple human thing this touch – and yet it is the thing that heals and brings life.
In none of these cases is it the glowing, glorified light-filled Jesus that does the healing.
No: it is the human, down-to-earth Jesus that touches. And heals. And brings new life.
It is the simple human touch that transforms fear into courage.
It is the simple human touch that conveys divine light and glory best.
I had a conversation with one of you this week about the passing of the peace in worship.
Christians have done this for nearly two thousand years when celebrating Holy Communion.
But it was only reintroduced into North American Lutheran churches in 1978.
It was awkward at first for those who were not used to touching each other –
or anyone – during worship.
And there are still those who are uncomfortable with it.
What is the point of it, I am asked?
It comes after the Prayers of Intercession, right, where we pray for the peace, health,
and well-being of the whole world and every person in it.
As if in answer to our prayers, the peace of the risen Christ is given to us immediately:
The Peace of Christ be with you always.
Then the members take this peace that is given them in answer to our prayers,
and gives it to one another –
it is a moment when we each become the risen Christ to one another.
It is a moment when God begins to answer the prayers we have just made – through us.
It is a moment when we become serious about what we have just prayed for.
A moment when we take what we have been given – and become vessels for it.
And we do not just speak it because, as one of our Thanksgivings at Table has it,
words are not enough.
Peace be with you is accompanied by a simple human action – the action of touch.
It denotes care, it denotes hospitality, it denotes friendship, it denotes inclusion,
it denotes healing, it denotes communion.
It is the peace of Christ becoming incarnate in human touch.
It is the grace of Christ becoming incarnate in human touch.
It is the words of Christ becoming incarnate in human – because words are not enough.
And I don’t need to say how important it is that strangers and newcomers are greeted,
as well as long-time friends and acquaintances.
This is not just about a friendly greeting; this is about the very peace and welcome and
grace and healing and forgiveness of Christ becoming incarnate in our very assembly –
through the simple human touch of one another.
It is how the peace we have prayed for begins to pass into the world.
It is how we touch one another in God’s name.
It is how the glory, the life, and the light of God come into the world,
scaled down in such a way that it can be humanly received.
And then – and then, you take it with you.
My dad, also a Lutheran pastor, was a shameless hugger.
He hugged everyone.
And it embarrassed to no end as a child, and as a youth, and as a teenager, and as a young adult.
He’s 91 now, and now I just smile when he hugs people.
And I’ve come to hug just about everyone, too –
although I ask people I don’t know if they’d like a hug before I hug them.
I have a friend from Food Bank who I have come to know well,
and when we were saying good-bye one day, I asked him if he’d like a hug.
He said sure.
So I gave him a big hug.
When I let him go, I looked at him, and saw his eyes were full of tears.
I asked him what was wrong.
He said, “I live alone and nobody ever hugs me.
I can’t actually remember the last time someone gave me a hug.”
To him, that hug meant acceptance, and inclusion, and so much grace.
It meant that he was valued, and loved –
something maybe some of us have the luxury of taking for granted.
But we really can’t.
And we never should.
For Christians, for those who follow and imitate Christ, touch is, I have come to see,
foundational for our ministry.
Jesus touched those no one else would touch, and communicated all of God’s glory and
light and life in that very particular and human way.
This is how God comes into the world, writes Pastor Patrick Willson.
Not simply the brilliant cloud of mystery, not only a voice thundering from heaven, but also a human hand laid upon a shoulder and the words, “Do not be afraid.” God’s glory is majestic and so far beyond our capacity to receive it that we can take just as much of God’s glory as a human hand can hold.
The measure of God’s love for us is that in Jesus God sets aside the glory and
becomes someone who can take us by the hand and touch us – and raise us up.
The measureless power that made the heavens and the earth
concentrates in a hand reaching out to us. (Feasting on the Word, Year A, Volume 1, 457)
See, the real wonder on Transfiguration Sunday is not that Jesus shines like a
million watt bulb on the mountain and scares the bejeezus out of his disciples.
That’s just who he is. He’s flash. There is actually nothing really miraculous about that.
The miracle is that he sets the flash aside and veils it to go and touch his friend and help him up.
We live in a culture that prizes flash – a culture that thinks the be all and end all is to be flash.
But the real wonder, the real prize, the real miracle lies in setting the flash aside in order to
Be of some use.
The real flash is sitting quietly by the hospital bed holding a hand.
The real flash is concentrated in listening to someone pour their heart out and not judging.
The real flash is concentrated in mundanely cooking a meal for 60 or 70 hungry people –
and serving with a quiet grace
It is wondrous good news, good news for us, and good news for the world, that in Jesus .
God sets aside the flash and veils it and reaches out to us when we are down and
gives us as much of God’s glory as our hands can hold:
in the passing of the peace to one another;
in a bit of broken bread;
in a sip of wine.
For in these things is God, the creator of the universe, transformed into something useful for us.
In these things is God, answering our prayers.
In these things is God, inviting us to be well, to be healed, to be at peace, and
to get up, and follow Jesus back down the mountain, so he can minister through us.
In these things is God, calling us to become what we receive:
to be transformed into something useful, into something human, into something just
enough that another human hand can hold.
So together, let us say, “Amen.”
Pastor Michael Kurtz
If you enjoyed this post, please consider to leave a comment or subscribe to the feed and get future articles delivered to your feed reader.
