Sermons

The Transfiguration of Our Lord
Pastor Andrew Courtney

The Gospel according to St. Luke, the 9th chapter verses 28 through 42.

The Transfiguration 

28 About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him and went up onto a mountain to pray. 29 As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. 30 Two men, Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendor, talking with Jesus. 31They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem. 32Peter and his companions were very sleepy, but when they became fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. 33 As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said to him, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what he was saying.)

34 While he was speaking, a cloud appeared and covered them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. 35A voice came from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.” 36When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept this to themselves and did not tell anyone at that time what they had seen.

Jesus Heals a Demon-Possessed Boy

37 The next day, when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met him. 38 A man in the crowd called out, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. 39 A spirit seizes him and he suddenly screams; it throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. It scarcely ever leaves him and is destroying him. 40 I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.”

41 “You unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.”

42 Even while the boy was coming, the demon threw him to the ground in a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the impure spirit, healed the boy and gave him back to his father. 43 And they were all amazed at the greatness of God. (NRSV)

We are at a bit of a “To be continued…” moment in the lectionary today. We get an abrupt shift in the lectionary readings today. We move from the Sermon on the Plain (Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel), which is arguably one of Jesus’ most important collection of teachings, and it moves to the Transfiguration. This is because Easter moves every year based on a lunar calendar and we operate on the Julian calendar and there is all sorts of interesting math that’s involved, but we get the Transfiguration breaking into the lectionary at different points every year. Maybe that’s on purpose. 

Luke 9 serves as a bridge between Jesus’ early Galilean ministry and his movement toward Jerusalem. It’s where Jesus is teaching, preaching, and healing in Galilee and makes a distinctive move towards his destination aimed at Roman Rule and the Temple in Jerusalem.

Every year when this passage comes up, I’m reminded of a song by one of my seminary professors–“Transfigure Me” by the Rev. Dr. Christopher Grundy. Maybe it’s because there are hymns about the Transfiguration but not many popular songs about it. And it’s a catchy tune. It goes, “Transfigure me, so that I might be, more like Jesus, more like Jesus. Transfigure me, so that I might be, more like Jesus, Jesus my light.”^[1] 

We start out in today’s passage and Jesus heads up the mountain with the A team of disciples– Peter, James and John. They are sleepy and all of the sudden they see Jesus with Moses and Elijah dazzling bright and they are talking about his departure–or exodus. There are two other times that we’ll see these two figures in dazzling white: the resurrection and the ascension. But, I wonder how that conversation went? If you were about to do something scary, start a revolution, take down an empire… what do you even talk about with the superheroes of Israel?

In her book The Awakened Brain: The New Science of Spirituality and Our Quest for the Inspired Life, Dr. Lisa Miller talks about a dinner event. She writes:

Gary and Colleen Weaver told me that for thirty years, they had worked with kids who’d survived horrible abuse and then become abusers, who’d already sat before a judge three or more times and were going to be transferred from juvenile detention to adult prison if they blew their last shot. The Weavers were their last chance. And I later learned they had an 85 percent success rate in their interventions with kids about to go away for life. Gary and Colleen’s support went way beyond the clinical realm. They had adopted twenty-eight of the young men.

“Can you show me now?” I asked quietly. “How do you teach spiritual awareness?” “It’s not through a particular religion,” Gary said. “Most of these boys we work with have had bad scrapes with the messengers of religion.” He was quiet a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Let’s do it!” He led me in this transcendent visualization exercise, called Holding Council: 

Sit down. Close your eyes. Set before you a table. To your table you may invite anyone, living or deceased, who truly has your best interest in mind. With all of your guests sitting there at your table, ask them if they love you. And now to your table, invite your higher self. The part of you that is much greater than anything you’ve done or not done, anything you have or don’t have. Ask your eternal, higher self if you love you. And now to your table invite your higher power, whoever or whatever it is to you. Ask if your higher power loves you. And now, with all of those people sitting there, right now, ask, “What do I need to know right now? What do they need to tell me?” 

It was a fast track to awakened connection. To realizing that we are in relationships—with our ancestors, our loved ones, our higher selves, our higher power—that transcend physical presence, and through which we gain something vital and useful. Your inner council is always there. Different people may show up at your table at different times. You can ask them questions anytime, anywhere.^[2]

That's gotta be the most practical application of the communion of saints, I've ever heard. And similarly to what Jesus is doing with Moses and Elijah in our passage today.

Taking a wider view, this moment also reminds me of my days playing football. After we’d practiced all week, before the game we’d prepare ourselves, get in the right headspace, and get the adrenaline going with some rock. This is where I was introduced to Rage Against the Machine. They were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame about a year ago. I had to clean it up a little bit for church, but in his acceptance speech, guitarist Tom Morello speaks the mission and message of Rage as protest music. If you don’t see how protest music fits into the gospel of Luke, I encourage you to reread Mary’s Song–the magnificat–in the first chapter. I’m also a sucker for a good motivational speech.

Morello’s states:

The best way to celebrate this music is for you to carry on that mission and that message. The lesson I’ve learned from Rage fans is that music can change the world. Daily I hear from fans who have been affected by our music and in turn have affected the world in significant ways. Organizers, activists, public defenders, teachers, the presidents of Chile and Finland have all spent time in our mosh pit. When protest music is done right, you can hear a new world emerging in the songs skewering the oppressors of the day and hinting that there might be more to life than what was handed to us. Can music change the world? The whole [...] aim is to change the world or at a bare minimum to stir up a [...]load of trouble along the way.^[3]

I think Peter’s problem was that he wanted to stay in the locker room. But there’s no real point of getting pumped up if you’re not going to do anything. The voice from the cloud reminds Peter and the disciples, “This is my son, whom I have chosen, listen to him.” The word “listen” goes further than merely hearing. It’s a call to heed… the same word used in the Shema in Deuteronomy 6, “Here O Israel,” which is prayed multiple times in Judaism to this day and is a foundational confession of belief in the God of Moses, Abraham and Jacob.

So what are we to do? Morello concluded his speech:

Fans often ask, “But what can I do?” Well, let’s start with these three things: 1. Dream big and don’t settle. 2. Aim for the world you really want without compromise or apology. And 3. Don’t wait for us. Rage is not here. But you are. The job we set out to do is not over. Now you’re the ones that must testify. 

So tomorrow crank up some Rage, and head out and confront injustice wherever it rears its ugly head. It’s time to change the world, brothers and sisters — or at a bare minimum, to stir up a [..]load of trouble. 

And finally, a special thanks to my mom, Mary Morello, a retired public high school teacher, a proud Rage Against the Machine fan and a lifelong radical who turned 100 years old a couple of weeks ago. She’s watching at home tonight, but she asked me to tell you this: History, like music, is not something that happens. It’s something you make.^[4]

This leads me to what I think is the biggest question this passage presents us: how are we transformed? How are our lives transfigured?

Professor and Pastor Fred Craddock tells of Scott Momaday, a Kiowa Native American writer: 

[He] has told the story when he was a young boy his father woke him up early and took him to the house of an elder matriarch and wisdom keeper of the tribe. All day long the matriarch told stories to the boy, sang songs to the boy, described rituals to the boy, told the history of the Kiowa to the boy, how they began out of a hollow log in the Yellowstone river. Of the migration southward, of the great wars with the other tribes, finally the coming of the whiteman, migration to Kansas, finally to Fort Sill the reservation, confinement. About dark my father came and said, “It’s time to go.” Momaday said, “I left her house a Kiowa.” … … When folks leave our church building do they leave a Christian? Because to be Christian is to be enrolled in the story. And anyone who can’t remember back further than their birth is an orphan.^[5]

On the way out of the locker room we used to hit a sign above the door that said “Play like Champions Tonight.” As we come down off the mountain, leave this sanctuary, and go out into the valleys to confront our exoduses, our liberation from oppression and injustice, this passage reminds us that we should “Pray like champions.” It’s hard out there, but we’re equipped. 

Sing the songs, Tell the stories, the stories of the community garden, the mission of Loads of Faith - Laundry Love, DLM, RIC, the successes of the preschool, the choir, the Ohio Mission Trip, Vacation Bible School… the things that link us to God’s story, that confront injustice, and that lead to the fullness of life. 

So what do we do? Where do we go from here? Keep on telling the stories, get pumped up in here and go out and change the world, or at least stir up some good trouble. Maybe this year, we can start with this song: “Transfigure me, so that I might be, more like Jesus, more like Jesus. Transfigure me, so that I might be, more like Jesus, Jesus my light.”^[6] 

May it be so, and may it be soon. Amen.