Traveling Down the Road of Change

PROPERS:          LAST EPIPHANY, YEAR C  

TEXT:                EXODUS 34:29-35; 2 CORINTHIANS 3:12-42; LUKE 9:28-36 [37-43a]          

PREACHED AT ST. PAUL’S CHAPEL, MAGNOLIA SPRINGS, ON SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2022.

 

ONE SENTENCE:        The encounter with God brings about a transformation and does not merely baptize the status quo.

 

 

            There is an old joke about a Presbyterian who accidentally falls down a flight of stairs. He gets up, dusts himself off, and says, “Well, I’m glad I got that behind me.”

 

            I’m not much of a believer in predestination, but I would say there is a tinge of providence in the inability of Bishop Kendrick to be here today.  While I certainly regret his illness, I am delighted to preach on today’s lessons – all of them.

 

            Today is the Last Sunday after the Epiphany – or, as it is known here, the Sunday before Fat Tuesday.  It is also our last Sunday of Alleluias before Lent sets in.  The lessons focus on Transformation, perhaps the key term in my understanding of the gospel.

 

            The lessons are univocal. In order, the three lessons deal with a form of transformation.

 

            The first lesson, from Exodus, tells us of Moses coming down from Mt. Sinai.  He is soon wearing a veil over his face because of a holy radiance, known as the shekina. He has been in God’s presence, and he has been transformed by that experience.

 

            In the second lesson (which we did not read today), from Second Corinthians, Paul is writing about how life is different for people before and after embracing the gospel.  This lesson, too, refers to a veil.  The person who has not yet embraced the gospel wears a veil – hiding the radiance of God’s presence.  The person who has embraced the Good News is without a veil – letting the light so shine that people may see the good works, and give glory to the Father in heaven.

 

            Finally, there is the gospel – Luke’s account of Jesus and his “executive committee (Peter, James, and John) ascending a mountain where they experience the Transfiguration.  Jesus shines radiantly, as one translation notes about his clothes, “brighter than any fuller could bleach them.”

 

            At the height of that moment, as Jesus is sitting with Elijah and Moses, Peter utters his ecstatic enthusiasm: “Master, it is good that we are here.  Let us build three booths for you, Moses, and Elijah.”

 

            But the moment passes. Normalcy returns. They must move on – but they have been forever changed. They can never unsee what they have seen, nor unknow what they have known.  They are new beings – and it would not be the last time their lives would be changed. As hymn 661 says, “The peace of God it is no peace, but strife closed in the sod. Yet let us pray for but one thing: The marvelous peace of God.”

 

            No doubt, like most scriptural stories, these passages have different layers of meaning – all of which are true.  They testify to the awesomeness of God, the primacy of Jesus as savior.  Those meanings among others.

 

            But I see a consistent theme. The Experience of God’s presence is transformational.  We cannot truly know God and be the same.  Our thoughts, feelings, behaviors, convictions, and ways of seeing the world cannot be merely baptized and remain as they were.  It is not possible to be touched a little bit by God.

 

            It is not possible to encounter God and remain the same. God is not a simple touchstone that we touch and remain as we are. As John Newton, the former slave-trader who experienced the presence of God wrote in his hymn, Amazing Grace: “I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.”

 

            Despite what others may say, it is not a “one-time” experience.  Over many years and experiences, we grow in knowledge and insight that God gives us.  We see the complexities of life. We go from seeing the world as one-dimensional. We see our faith not so much as a hammer or cudgel, but as journeys that are complex, nuanced, and subtle. Faith gets deep – not a little dab’ll do ya.

 

            It is a bit like going down a rabbit hole – but a rabbit hole that leads to grace upon grace and mystery upon mystery.

 

            I have been on this journey for 65 years – at least.  It is not simple.  It includes great heights and deep valleys; rocky and smooth roads. To paraphrase Paul and to quote an old hymn, “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.”

 

But the journey of faith is well worth it. Life and perspectives change.

 

            I invite you to come along.