Last Sunday After Epiphany—February 25, 2001

He was just another man. His hands were hardened, calloused, cracked, scarred from his work. His feet were similarly hardened and calloused and coated with the dust and dirt of travel, for he was doing a lot of traveling now. When he looked at you, it seemed his eyes could look deep into your very heart and soul, maybe even right through you. His speech was the familiar language of the market place and the field. He was a great story teller. His voice was remarkable: now soft and soothing, bringing comfort and now hard like a pruning knife cutting and rearranging things.

Jesus was just another man when he called Peter and James and John from the sea and fishing. Over the next several weeks he became an extraordinary man as he continued his travels with them. He taught not as a carpenter, the son of a carpenter. He taught with an authority and certainty as no other rabbi they had ever encountered. His marvelous ability to tell stories was turning their views about God and God's love upside down. He used his wonderful voice to teach, to forgive sins, to command healing, and even to command the seas to calm and the winds to stop.

In fact, Peter had blurted out one day his belief that Jesus was Messiah. Just as quickly he put his foot in his mouth by arguing with Jesus about whether he should continue on to Jerusalem and certain death or not. For all this he was just another man, extraordinary in some things, but just a man like them.

In a flash, literally, that all changed. To be sure Jesus still had hands hardened by working wood. His feet bore the abuses of sandaled travel. His look, his touch, his voice, his stories, remained his primary tools to tell the truth about God and us. But in that glorious moment on the mountain top, Peter and James and John saw with their own eyes the glory of God in Jesus. Their testimony above all others supplied the church with the words of our creed, the words of our faith: we believe in Jesus Christ . . . God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God. Jesus was no longer just another man.

Curiously enough, despite this heavenly insight, Peter, James, and John and the others still seemed to wander between belief and unbelief. In the moment of crisis it wasn't the mountain top experience that held them steady, it was the fear of also being arrested and killed that sent them running into the night. It was fear that prompted Peter's denials. The vision of the glory of God in Jesus revealed on the Mount of Transfiguration cast out by fear. Despite this, I have no doubt that God used the wonder of the Transfiguration to draw Peter, James, and John back to fellowship and leadership.

And I relate all this because there have been moments in my own life when, like Peter, James, and John, I have seen, I have understood, beyond doubt, the truth about Jesus. And, like them, there have been moments when I have acted like I didn't understand a thing about Jesus. And, patiently, persistently, God reminds me of what I know and calls me back to fellowship and leadership. Over the years many men and women have shared their stories of encounter with the glory of God in Jesus. I believe that my experiences are in fact the experiences of most of you who gather this evening. The moment of Transfiguration has come unexpectedly, it could not be predicted. It has come with glory (as it did for peter, James, and John); it has come quietly, but it come and opened a way for us to understand deeply the truth about Jesus. In our better moments we act from that knowledge.

Every year we retell the story of the Transfiguration just before we begin Lent, just before we journey with our Lord to Jerusalem and death. It's as if we are fortifying ourselves for what is to come. And we remind ourselves that in the life of every friend of Jesus, a moment of Transfiguration will come. If you have not yet tasted the wonder of the moment of the Transfiguration in your own life, I can assure you that your are in for a treat. The moment will come, believe it.

Let us close in prayer this evening.

God of our ancestors, God of Abraham and Sarah, God of Joseph and Mary, God of Peter, James, and John, we thank you that you make yourself known to us.

For Moses, the burning bush was a sign of your presence. Peter, James, and John saw you in Jesus when he was transfigured and shone as bright as the sun. Your people at Pentecost knew your Spirit had come near, descending in tongues of flame. We yearn, mysterious God, for clear signs of your presence, for fiery epiphanies and not faint glimmers.

Teach us, God to trust the still, small voice as well as fire and thunder. Take our hands and stay beside us, that we may follow your will as far as we understand, and then some. Heal our sorrows; calm our fears; set us on sure paths. Help us to be your people indeed, through the presence, the word, and the example of Jesus Christ. Amen. (1)

The Rev. Daniel Rondeau
drondeau@stmargarets.org
24 February 2001

(1) Prayer from Touch Holiness. Resources for Worship. Edited by Ruth C. Duck and Maren C. Tirabassi. Page 50.