Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Standing in Awe--Sermon Written for St. John, Pittsburg, KS, Transfiguration Sunday, Feb. 11, 2018







Mark 9:2-9
                2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
                9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

           So we don’t know each other yet, and I don’t want to spend any sermon time giving you my bio.  I do want you to know this about me, because it relates to today’s gospel lesson:
           I am an introvert.
           Other introverts in the room?
           A lot of pastors are introverts which doesn’t make sense, since we spend a lot of time with people…and does make sense because we also spend a lot of time with books, and ideas.  And hopefully we spend a lot of time deep in prayer for our world and our community and our church.
           We spend a lot of time delving deeply into scripture so that we can notice things that might be helpful to our congregations.  Or to other congregations, if, perhaps, you are preaching at St. John Lutheran in Pittsburg, rather than St. Mark Hope and Peace Lutheran in Kansas City—which is where you will find me most Sundays.
          
           There’s a ton of stuff to notice about this morning’s gospel lesson.  I always enjoy preaching on Transfiguration Sunday, because every year, no matter who is telling the story—this year it’s Mark—no matter who it is, it’s a weird story.
           It’s a super weird story, right?  They go up the mountain and Jesus turns all glow-y and Peter wants to build booths and a voice booms out of the clouds, and this is a really weird story.
           And if you really unpack the story, parts of it will begin to make sense, but it’s actually best to let it be weird.  It’s sort of like Austin, Texas.  Have you seen the bumper stickers?  “Keep Austin weird.”  Well, I think we could make a bumper sticker about this text:  “Keep Transfiguration weird.”
           Jesus took with him Peter, and James, and John, up on a mountain, and there they had a profound experience of the holy.  Do we really want to explain it away?  Could we, if we wanted to?
           Probably not.  This is the story of the ordinary juxtaposed to the extraordinary.  In order to understand it, we have to pay attention to both parts.  It begins and ends pretty ordinary. 
           “2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.”
           Now, there’s not time in this one sermon to give you Jesus’s whole bio, but you should know this:  Jesus was an introvert.  You can argue with me on this, but I am right.
           In general, introverts like to hang out with a few close friends, rather than big crowds of people.  Jesus spent a lot of time in crowds—mostly because they hunted him down wherever he was.  But then every so often, he had to go off and recharge his batteries.  Sometimes by himself.  And sometimes with the guys—which usually means Peter, James and John.
           Just them, though.  Mark makes a point of it.  Did you notice that?  He “led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.
           Kinda redundant for the pithiest of the gospels, isn’t it?
           They were all alone up there.
           It’s important that we understand that.
           In fact, I think that might be the point of this whole weird lesson.

           Sometimes, we need to stand, by ourselves, in awe of the Lord.
           Sometimes we need to make the space in our hectic lives to simply stand and gaze upon the majesty of Jesus.  And hear the voice of God.  Reminding us that Jesus is God’s beloved child.
           And in so doing, reminding us that we are God’s beloved children.  God sent the Son into the world in order that the world might be saved, through him.  John 3:17, which for whatever reason never gets hoisted in football stadiums.
           God sent Jesus that we might be saved, through his body and through his words.  They are good words, right?  Words of love and hope that we need to hear all the time, but especially right now. 
           Because this is a weird time.  Our nation is at odds with itself.  And increasingly with the rest of the world.  No matter what political camp you reside in, people are uneasy.  A whole bunch of them are downright angry, and more than a few are pretty hateful about anyone who doesn’t agree with them.
           This is a weird time.  A scary time.
           Fortunately, for us, in the church, it’s also a special time.  This weird old Transfiguration lesson always arrives at just the right time, this year in particular, as we stand upon the threshold of the season of Lent.  Lent is a time for us to stand transfixed before the Lord.  A time to make space in our lives to heed the words of the prophet Joel:  “return to the Lord your God, for God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”
           This Lent, this year, would be a good time to remind ourselves not only that God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love…but that we are called to be those things as well. 
           Couldn’t our world use a little grace right now?
           Couldn’t we all use a little mercy?  And don’t get me started on “slow to anger.”
           And what the world really needs now, to borrow from a great old song, is love.
           This Lent, I invite you to find your inner introvert—for some of us it is easy, for others, not so much—find your inner introvert and stand before Jesus.  Listen to the voice of God reminding us to listen to his clarion call of love.  Come to church on Ash Wednesday and as those ashes are marked upon your head, feel the cross being marked upon your heart.  A reminder that God so loved the world that God sent the only begotten Son…in order that the world might be saved through him.
           He can save this world.  He can lead us into that love and peace that truly surpass all understanding.
           This Lent, let us stand before the Lord.  Let us find space to hear his word of love.  Let us carve out the room to find the healing we need for our own lives, and then let that healing loose upon the world.
           God knows we need it.
           Jesus knows we need it.

           And I truly hope and believe that we know we need it.

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