March 5, 2000
There are some experiences that can be described
in just plain English, what we would call prose. We can all agree
that we are all sitting in Palm Desert, California on March 5,
2000 at St. Margaret's Church. That is a fact. That is undisputable.
You and I agree on that. Some experiences can be described in
plain English, plain prose. However, there are other experiences
that can not be described in language other than poetry. We can
all agree that we are brought together today in this place. What
we couldn't agree on, what language we would have to borrow, is
what brought us together, you and me, in this room, on this day.
That language we would have to leave to poets.
For example, do you remember the first time you fell in love? Can you describe it in language other than poetry? Can you say with a completely straight face, "I saw my beloved and it was a great thing. No, we use the language of poetry to describe that experience. And today, we have two expressions of poetry in scripture that bring us into the very heart of God, indeed, and into our very nature, the heart of who we are as human beings, as creatures, as players before God, if I may use that expression.
The first, of course, is Elijah. He was pursued throughout the land because he alone is the one who speaks the truth. The powers that be decided they need to have his head on a platter and they chase him. Elijah figures out there is no such thing as a retirement plan for old prophets, so he invites himself to a pity party and says, "I alone am left, I am the only faithful one left in Israel. God, you had better come up with something good really quick." God answers him in what used to be translated as a "still small voice," but is now translated as "the sound of sheer silence."
The transfiguration. Jesus invites his most intimate friends to the mountain where he encounters Elijah and Moses. The prophetic tradition of deliverance, coming together with his identity as the Messiah. He is transfigured before them. What a wonderful experience! If we take it literally, we miss it because it's not meant to be prose. It is not meant to be a single sheet of music. It's meant to be a jazz piece — several pieces of music coming together, describing a magnificent experience. The disciples, for once, see Jesus for who he truly is.
The poetic piece of today isn't in what actually happened, it's who was invited to be there. Once again, God defies our reasoning in who he wants to have speaking for him. Elijah, the whiner, Peter, James and John seemingly the most faithful among the disciples, and yet they miss the point. They see the experience and they want to build a building around it. They want to institutionalize the experience.
Are these people good enough? Are these people good enough to proclaim God's word? Are we good enough? The answer is yes. If you are an over-achiever, if you think you need to be productive all the time in order to qualify for God's grace, if you are compulsive, obsessed with getting the most done in the shortest amount of time, well you can read the back of the prayer book and balance your checkbook and plan the rest of your day while I talk.
What we see here is a pattern. I need your ears today — if you feel you need to make one more call before the end of the day; if you need to answer one more letter; if you need to create one more program; join one more board; lose just a few more pounds; take just a few more strokes off your game; attend one more church service; and believe you're good enough for God. What we have today is a group of people who didn't need any of that. It reminds us that we are good enough when we live our transfigured lives, when we see each other as we truly are, as we see God.
At the end of the 19th century, a Belgian priest named Fr. Damien heard about the plight of the lepers on the island of Molokai. The lepers were left alone and Father Damien felt moved to begin a ministry to them. He moved to the island and initiated this ministry, living among the lepers for many years. He shared their suffering and eventually, Fr. Damien contracted leprosy and died.
A rather famous painter in London decided to record the event in art — another form of poetry. He had to decide whether to paint Fr. Damien as he appeared before he left for Molokai or after and he decided on the latter. One day on the streets of London in a simple art gallery a painting appeared in the window of a very grotesque deformed man and people were repulsed. There were letters to the editor saying how could you import something so grotesque in our city streets? How could you deface our streets with something so ugly? But then word got out of the subject of the painting, Father Damien, whose fame had spread throughout the world. While the painting didn't change, everyone wanted to buy a copy of it. There were hordes of people outside this art gallery wanting to claim an image of Fr. Damien. For once, they saw something grotesque as something beautiful.
Peter, James and John saw Jesus as he truly was, not just as a great teacher, not just as a companion on the journey, but as the Messiah. As we look in the mirror, we see the same image. The world will define us in terms of how we appear, but God judges us as how we are. The world judges us according to how much exists in our bank accounts, what we drive, who we might know, but God judges us according to our hearts.
This is the transfigured life. The Christian life is not centered around earning approval from the rest of the world, or from God. The Christian life is one in which we hear all the pieces of music, all the lines of the poetry that surround us, in every mysterious, wonderful human being who might sit next to us, and say, "Aha, there is the image of Christ!" AMEN
The The Rev. Sean Cox
seancox@stmargarets.org
5 March 2000