“E” is for Eucharist (February 28, 2012)

…Opening To…

Now let us all with one accord, in company with ages past, keep vigil with our heavenly Lord in his temptation and his fast. (Gregory the Great, from The Hymnal 1982)

…Listening In…

Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass there. They sat down, about five thousand of them. Then Jesus took the bread. When he had given thanks, he distributed it to those who were sitting there. He did the same with the fish, each getting as much as they wanted. (John 6:10-11; context)

…Filling Up…

This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “E” is for Eucharist. This word is used in several church contexts and can be a real barrier to entry for newcomers because it doesn’t really look like any other word they might recognize. We use it as a synonym for “Communion,” which is a word that has “union” in it and sort of looks like “common,” so newbies to the faith could get an inkling of what it means. But Eucharist? Yikes! The word just looks tricky.

So if you or someone you know has been wondering about this one, let me break it down to two simple English words: Eucharist means to “give thanks.” It is an ancient Greek word that was essentially ported into English unharmed by the ravages of time and language (which is why it looks a bit funny). When Jesus gives thanks before breaking and sharing the loaves and fishes with five thousand of his closest friends, he is Eucharist-ing.

With this simple meaning under our belts, we can look at how we use this word in church. First, we use it as a name for the service: the “Holy Eucharist,” which encompasses the parts of the service that surround both the Word and the table. We use it as the name of the sacrament of Holy Communion and for the prayers we pray when we consecrate the bread and wine. And we use it to name these two elements after the prayer when they have become for us Christ’s Body and Blood.

Because we use the word “Eucharist” in these several contexts, the definition of the word can get lost. But if we remember that the word means to “give thanks” then those contexts blossom with new meaning. The service as a whole becomes one we enter into with an attitude of thanksgiving. The prayer and the communion become our sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. The elements of bread and wine become nourishment of God’s abundance, for which we give thanks.

Eucharist is not just an old word that is difficult to understand. It is the entry point to a new outlook on the world – one in which abundance trumps scarcity, generosity defeats greed, and thanksgiving wins the day.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you are the source of every good gift. Help me to nurture within myself a generous heart that is always on the lookout for blessing, for which I can give thanks. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, nourished by your Spirit and willing to open up a larger space within for you to dwell.

“D” is for Desert (February 27, 2012)

…Opening To…

Now let us all with one accord, in company with ages past, keep vigil with our heavenly Lord in his temptation and his fast. (Gregory the Great, from The Hymnal 1982)

…Listening In…

The desert and the dry land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom like the crocus. They will burst into bloom, and rejoice with joy and singing. (Isaiah 35:1-2; context)

…Filling Up…

This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “D” is for desert. The desert plays a big role in the Bible. Quite a bit of it is set there, though sometimes our translations use the word “wilderness” interchangeably with desert. The people of Israel wander in the desert for forty years between fleeing Egypt and arriving in the Promised Land. Jesus spends forty days in the desert after his baptism. There he fasts and resists the temptations of the devil.

Perhaps you live near a real desert – out in Arizona or California perhaps. I don’t, so when the Bible talks about the desert or wilderness, I place myself not in a literal desert but a figurative one. You see, the desert is all around us. We live in the desert. Sometimes through our actions and inactions, we contribute to expanding the desert. The desert exists anywhere that we feel isolated or afraid or tempted or lost. And let’s be honest – we are feeling at least one of those most of the time.

But just because we find ourselves in the desert much of the time does not make it simply a place of trial or a proving ground. God does not drop us in the desert just to test our endurance. We simply wander into the wilderness, and we get caught there because the wilderness is vast and tangled. Sometimes, the desert extends its pathless expanse as far as the eye can see.

But when the people of Israel got stuck there for all those years, they made a remarkable discovery. God was in the desert, too. God was everywhere they were, including the wilderness. God doesn’t stop at the desert’s edge. In fact, God can make the desert blossom.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you love all you create and never forsake me to lonely wandering. Help me to let you guide my feet in the pathless desert so that I can follow your lead as we make our way out together. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, nourished by your Spirit and willing to open up a larger space within for you to dwell.

Three Panels of the Story

(Sermon for Sunday, February 26, 2012 || Lent 1B || Mark 1:9-15)

Every year on the First Sunday of Lent, we hear the story from the Gospel that tells about Jesus’ time in the wilderness. We hear this story on this particular Sunday because Jesus’ forty days off by himself, fasting in the arid austerity of the desert, are a model for our own forty-day Lenten journey. Last year, we heard Matthew’s telling of this tale – an eleven-verse treatment, complete with the devil’s three-pronged attack on a famished Jesus. The year before that, we heard Luke’s version, a full thirteen verses that recount the same story as Matthew does. Now, if Matthew and Luke spend on average a dozen verses on this story, then you might be wondering whether you nodded off during the Gospel reading from Mark a few moments ago and missed something. Where was the dialogue between the seductive devil and the stalwart Jesus? Where were the temptations: the bread from the rock, the leap from the temple, the view from the mountain? The answer is that I didn’t read them because they aren’t there. And I can assure you that you didn’t have time to nod off, no matter how sleepy you are.

Never one to spend his words frivolously, Mark gives us a grand total of two verses on Jesus’ time in the wilderness. “And the Spirit immediately drove him into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.” That’s all Mark has to say on the subject. So, to keep you all from feeling gypped by a two-verse Gospel reading, the framers of our lectionary tacked on a few verses before and a few verses after Jesus’ time in the wilderness. And I’m so glad they did.

I’m glad because Mark’s rapid style progresses from scene to scene with such haste that the individual scenes cannot be isolated from one another. Indeed, I don’t think Mark intended for them ever to stand alone. Rather, taken together like the three panels of a comic strip, the three short scenes we read a few minutes ago tell the concise story of our life of faith.

Here’s the first panel: Mark draws Jesus emerging from the waters of the River Jordan. A dove alights on his outstretched arm. A text bubble points out the top of the frame and reads: “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” This first panel in the story of our life of faith is “relationship.” Jesus hears God’s voice calling him “Son.” And not just son, but a son whom God loves. And not just a son God loves, but a son God loves, in whom God finds delight and joy. This relationship that God has with Jesus is the same relationship that God initiates with each one of us. Each of us is a son or daughter whom God loves and in whom God delights.

I know this can be hard to accept because most of the time we feel way too messy and unkempt for God to want to know us, let alone to delight in us. Our socks have holes in them. We haven’t vacuumed in a while. We ate that pretzel we found between the couch cushions. And that’s just the surface stuff. Why would God want to have anything to do with such untidy people?

But the wonderful thing about this first panel of our story is that Jesus hasn’t done anything yet. We’re less than a dozen verses into Mark’s account of the Gospel. Jesus hasn’t spoken a word or accomplished anything more remarkable than traveling from Nazareth to the Jordan and coming up for air after John dunked him under the water. Before Jesus has time to win or lose God’s favor, God has already staked out a place in their relationship. Likewise, God tossed God’s lot in with us long before we let God see our untidiness. And God’s not going to cut and run just because of our state of disrepair. God’s knowledge of us, love for us, and delight in us do not depend on our worthiness. In fact, they create our worthiness. Because God is in relationship with us, we are worthy to be in relationship with God. This is the first panel of our story.

In the second panel, Mark draws Jesus walking in the desert. At first glance, he seems to be alone. But then you notice the faint outline of an angelic hand holding one of Jesus’ hands as the other fends off Satan. This second panel in the story of our life of faith is “adversity.” Immediately after God affirms God’s relationship with Jesus, Jesus finds himself in the wilderness with the wild beasts and the temptations of Satan. I always assumed that Jesus had to travel quite far to get to the wilderness, but as I thought about this sermon, I changed my mind. I doubt he went very far at all. The wilderness is all around us. We live in the wilderness. Sometimes through our actions and inactions, we contribute to expanding the wilderness. The wilderness exists anywhere that we feel isolated or afraid or tempted or lost. And let’s be honest – we are feeling at least one of those most of the time.

But the adversity, which brings on these feelings, does not make the wilderness a trial or a proving ground. God does not drop us in the desert just to test our endurance. We simply wander into the wilderness, and we get caught there because the wilderness is vast and tangled. But remember the first panel of our story. The relationship God entered into on our behalf does not end at the desert’s edge. When the people of Israel wandered in the desert for forty years after fleeing Egypt, they made a remarkable discovery. Their God was in the desert, too. The adversity of the wilderness is the second panel of our story, but the relationship of the first panel carries through.

When we discover God’s constant presence even in the midst of the wilderness, we are ready to move to the third panel. Mark draws Jesus striding through Galilee proclaiming a message to everyone who will listen and to some who won’t. A text bubble points to Jesus, saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” This third panel in the story of our life of faith is “proclamation.” After God has claimed a delight-filled relationship with the beloved Son, and after the Son has wandered in the wilderness, Jesus returns to Galilee with the words of the good news of God on his lips.

Our proclamation of this same good news happens whenever we act on the faith that comes from God’s delighted, loving relationship with us. Our proclamation happens when we come to know, love, and delight in all the messy and unkempt people around us. Our proclamation happens when, even in the midst of the tangled wilderness, we rely on God to show us the path to freedom.

Our life of faith moves from relationship through adversity to proclamation. But this life of faith is not linear; rather, this life is a spiral. As we grow in our faith, we delve more deeply into our side of our relationships with God. As we come ever closer to the God who is always close to us, we can endure greater adversity. And we can proclaim more continuously and more courageously the love and delight God has for all people.

As we enter this holy season of Lent, I invite you to take stock of where you are in this life of faith. Are you nurturing your relationship with God? Or are you wandering through the tangled wilderness of adversity? Or are you reveling in all the ways that you show forth God’s love? Or perhaps, you are living out a little of all three. Wherever you are in this story of the life of faith, trust that God began a relationship with you before you were worthy of one, that God is hacking away at the tangle of wilderness right alongside you, and that God is constantly speaking the words of the good news through your words and deeds into the hearts of those you meet along the way. Thanks be to God.

“C” is for Charisma (February 24, 2012)

…Opening To…

The glory of these forty days we celebrate with songs of praise; for Christ, through whom all things were made, himself has fasted and has prayed. (Hymn from the 6th century; trans. Maurice F. Bell)

…Listening In…

As Jesus passed alongside the Galilee Sea, he saw two brothers, Simon and Andrew, throwing fishing nets into the sea, for they were fishermen. “Come, follow me,” he said, “and I’ll show you how to fish for people.” Right away, they left their nets and followed him. After going a little further, he saw James and John, Zebedee’s sons, in their boat repairing the fishing nets. At that very moment he called them. They followed him, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired workers. (Mark 1:16-20; context)

…Filling Up…

This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “C” is for charisma. There are plenty of other good “C” words that I could have chosen; certainly, that are more “churchy” – well, “church,” for instance. Charisma isn’t really a word that’s used much when talking about following Jesus Christ. Perhaps, you’ve heard a preacher talk about Christ’s own charisma – how he attracted crowds, how people followed him seemingly on a whim.

However, you might see a problem with this use of “charisma.” Perhaps, you’ve heard talking heads on the news talk about the charisma of politicians – some just have it, others don’t. Often, politicians trade on this so-called charisma to make up for deficiencies in their political acumen or their knowledge of the world. In this sense “charisma” becomes the commodity they trade on to win office, and therefore it is seen as insubstantial, as part of a smoke and mirrors campaign to get elected. When we talk about Christ’s charisma winning the crowds, we are dangerously close to this kind of political showmanship.

But the word “charisma” is a really old word, and its longevity can save it from the political scene. “Charisma” comes from the Greek word charis (χαρις), which means “grace.” If we remember this root of our English word, then we remember the root of the “compelling attractiveness” that “charisma” has come to mean. The root is God’s grace – not smoke and mirrors, not showmanship, but the elegance and abundance of God’s freely given gifts stored inside a living being.

If Jesus had charisma, and I’m sure he did, then I bet it was this kind – the kind nourished by the grace of God.

…Praying For…

Dear God, your gift of grace picks me up when I stumble and teaches me to dance to the rhythm of your love. Help me to move with this rhythm in my life. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, glad that you have given me the strength and the will to reflect on my journey with you.

“B” is for Blessings (February 23, 2012)

…Opening To…

The glory of these forty days we celebrate with songs of praise; for Christ, through whom all things were made, himself has fasted and has prayed. (Hymn from the 6th century; trans. Maurice F. Bell)

…Listening In…

The LORD said to Abram, “Leave your land, your family, and your father’s household for the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation and will bless you. I will make your name respected, and you will be a blessing.” (Genesis 12:1-2; context)

…Filling Up…

This Lent, we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “B” is for blessings. Grandmas tell us to count them. Football talk about them when they’ve won a big game. We use a different form of the word when someone sneezes. But what are “blessings?”

Well, it might be worth starting with what blessing is not. As my boss often says, “Don’t say you’re lucky, say you’re blessed.” Luck ascribes things happening to chance. Blessing ascribes them to God. People talk about good luck and bad luck. Chance favors those with good luck; not so much with the bad. But there’s no such thing as bad blessing. There are bad situations and tragedies but no bad blessings. There is blessing to be found in every situation and every tragedy. These blessings don’t necessarily minimize the pain and grief of the tragedy, but they do offer glimmers of hope. Sometimes the blessing is hidden until we are ready to see it, but the hope exists whether we notice it or not. The difference between luck and blessing is this hope: subscribe to a life of luck and hope rides on the flip of a coin or roll of dice, but subscribe to a life of blessing and hope rides on God.

There’s one more thing that separates luck from blessing, and that is permanence. Luck is fleeting, if it exists at all. But every blessing is permanent, no matter how quickly they may come or go. I urge you, then, to save them – remember them, write them down. Yesterday my blessings including playing music and embracing my wife. Each of these small blessings sinks down to fortify the bedrock of my soul. Remembering them helps me stay in relationship with the source of all blessing, and that is God.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you are the source of all blessing. Help me to seek out the blessing in all circumstances so that I may notice the glimmers of hope that exist in all situations. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, glad that you have given me the strength and the will to reflect on my journey with you.

“A” is for Atonement (February 22, 2012)

…Opening To…

The glory of these forty days we celebrate with songs of praise; for Christ, through whom all things were made, himself has fasted and has prayed. (Hymn from the 6th century; trans. Maurice F. Bell)

…Listening In…

All of these new things are from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and who gave us the ministry of reconciliation. In other words, God was reconciling the world to himself through Christ, by not counting people’s sins against them. He has trusted us with this message of reconciliation. (2 Corinthians 5:18-19; context)

…Filling Up…

As we did last Lent on devotiONEighty, this Lent we are exploring our faith by running through the alphabet. Today, “A” is for atonement.

Atonement can be a scary word. It is often used in phrases such as “penal substitutionary atonement theory.” Atonement theory covers all the different descriptions of how Jesus Christ’s death on the cross affected creation. They run the gamut, as you might expect. The one I mentioned a few sentences ago says that Jesus suffered the penalty that God put on us for our sins, thereby making it so we didn’t have to suffer it ourselves.

Atonement theories can really color our worldviews because they describe how we view the most important event in history. If someone subscribes to “penal substitutionary atonement theory” then that person is more likely to have an image of God as judge, who has pronounced a guilty verdict over the human race.

The problem with atonement theories is that they are really just simple descriptions or metaphors for what is, at its core, an unexplainable and grace-filled act. By subscribing to one theory, we can miss the fullness of the beauty of the act itself. Christ’s act becomes part of a math equation.

Rather, at its heart, atonement is not about paying for sins. It is about renewing relationship. Whatever description we subscribe to about what happened on that cross and after, the relationship between God and God’s creation was changed in Christ’s act, was made closer somehow. For, in the end, “atonement” is a made up word. It’s a stitched together word. Look at it: “At One”-ment. That’s what atonement is really about.

…Praying For…

Dear God, your Son died on the cross and rose again and somehow changed the course of this world in the act. Help me to live my life as one who is at one with you, through Christ’s love. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, glad that you have given me the strength and the will to reflect on my journey with you.

Clean Hearts (February 21, 2012)

…Opening To…

The glory of these forty days we celebrate with songs of praise; for Christ, through whom all things were made, himself has fasted and has prayed. (Hymn from the 6th century; trans. Maurice F. Bell)

…Listening In…

Create a clean heart for me, God; put a new, faithful spirit deep inside me! Please don’t throw me out of your presence; please don’t take your holy spirit away from me. Return the joy of your salvation to me and sustain me with a willing spirit. (Psalm 51:10-12; context)

…Filling Up…

“Lent” is an old translation of the Latin word quadragesima, which simply means “forty days.” Forty days is a significant period of time in the Bible: Noah, Moses, and Elijah all had forty days of something –flooding, fasting, sitting around with God on the mountaintop. Jesus spent forty days in the desert, during which Satan tempted him. Beginning tomorrow (on the fast the church names “Ash Wednesday”) Lent continues until the day before Easter. Historically, the season of Lent was the period of time that people used to prepare for baptism, which took place at the Great Vigil of Easter on Easter Eve.

During these forty days that bring us to Easter, we examine our lives and discern how attuned to God’s movement we are. We pray for God to create in us clean hearts and renew right spirits within us, as Psalm 51 says. We rededicate ourselves to following Christ and wonder how last year’s dedication faded away. We slow down and turn our thoughts inward. How have my actions and inactions contributed to the brokenness in the world? To what have I enslaved myself? Where is my joy and freedom? Do I really want to follow Christ?

When we enter this period of self-reflection, when we honestly answer questions such as these, it often becomes apparent just how skin deep and results-oriented we’ve become. The season of Lent helps us see the error in statements such as “It’s only cheating if you get caught” and “The ends justify the means.” Living a full life – not a half-life of results only – means valuing the moral fortitude that counters wanton opportunism and caring about how things are accomplished, not just that they are. Observing Lent means taking a hard look at ourselves and borrowing enough strength from God to be capable of seeing those festering things that we usually ignore. Then we borrow enough faith from God to know that God will help us change and will reawaken within us those faculties of hope and love that have long lay dormant.

I invite you to turn your gaze inward during this season of Lent and discover the true joy that comes from a full life lived in the love of God.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you are the source of all joy throughout your creation. Help me to live my life fully in your love so that I may follow you throughout my journey, meeting you all along the way to the destination. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, glad that you have given me the strength and the will to reflect on my journey with you.

A Swift Kick in the Trousers (February 20, 2012)

…Opening To…

The glory of these forty days we celebrate with songs of praise; for Christ, through whom all things were made, himself has fasted and has prayed. (Hymn from the 6th century; trans. Maurice F. Bell)

…Listening In…

Have mercy on me, God, according to your faithful love! Wipe away my wrongdoings according to your great compassion! Wash me completely clean of my guilt; purify me from my sin! (Psalm 51:1-2; context)

…Filling Up…

With another Lenten Alphabet just around the corner beginning on devotiONEighty on Wednesday, today and tomorrow will be a pair of devos rather than the start of a weeklong set. Lent begins Wednesday, so we’ll take the next two days to talk about why Lent is so important. But first, a reminder about we modern Americans.

Americans are rarely a self-reflective people. We have eyes only for result and effect, caring little for process and cause. We seek to assign blame, caring little for our own culpability. We repeat the mistakes of the past, caring little for the lessons those mistakes teach. Never look back. Never let ‘em see you bleed. Never stop to think or the world will pass you by.

Living in this results-driven world is, at the same time, both exceedingly difficult and quite easy. It’s difficult because true joy, the fuel for any fruitful life, is a scarce commodity. Joy happens during not after, and in a results-oriented society, the during is dismissed as superfluous. But this dismissal is why the results-driven life is also quite easy. You crop half of life away. The journey becomes unimportant: only the destination matters. How easy would a test be if you only had to score a 50% to pass?

Self-reflection makes life hard, but it also allows us to recognize that joy abounds, poised to infuse our lives with meaning. Because we are such poor practitioners of self-reflection and because our culture tells us not to take time for such a revealingly honest enterprise, we need a swift kick in the trousers to boot us from the grasping current of the results-driven half-life.

In the Church, this swift-kick-in-the-trousers is called the season of Lent. And we’ll talk more about it tomorrow.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you are the source of all joy throughout your creation. Help me to live my life fully in your love so that I may follow you throughout my journey, meeting you all along the way to the destination. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, glad that you have given me the strength and the will to reflect on my journey with you.

The Natural Order (February 17, 2012)

…Opening To…

I caught a glimpse of Your splendor in the corner of my eye the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it was like a flash of lightning reflected off the sky, and I know I’ll never be the same. (Third Day, “Show Me Your Glory”)

…Listening In…

Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them not to tell anyone what they had seen until after the Human One had risen from the dead. (Mark 9:8-9; context)

…Filling Up…

When God tells the disciples to listen to Jesus, God implicitly commands them and us to rid ourselves of the box labeled “impossible.” If we listen to Jesus and obey him, then we trust that everything he does is the “real” thing – not a parlor trick or smoke and mirrors, not mere charisma or happenstance. He doesn’t bend the rules of a set universe, but he does bend the ones that our dangerously limited understanding has contrived.

Miracles aren’t glitches in the natural order. They are the natural order, the natural order that we dumped into the box long ago. The change, the metamorphosis, that occurs on the mountaintop prepares us for the even greater change that happens when Jesus rises from the dead, when Jesus tips the box over and removes the first two letters from the word “impossible.”

You see, the horizon exists not to limit our senses, but to give us something beyond which our dreams can thrive. The Transfiguration we celebrate on this coming Sunday (in my church, anyway) shines in our lives with dazzling brightness, reminding us of two things. First, there is something wonderful and glorious beyond the horizon. And second, that wonderful and glorious something couldn’t care less about horizons. The dazzling brightness of the Transfiguration foreshadows the even greater brightness of the resurrection, the brightness that rises in one breath of reckless animation. We will celebrate this triumph on Easter, seven weeks and two days from today.

During the intervening time, I invite you to look at the horizon. What do you see beyond it? What sliver of light ripples across the water? I also invite you to look inside yourselves. What have you restored to the box that Jesus once overturned? What change in your life are you resisting? Reflect on these questions. And, at the same time, know that Jesus stands forever before you, beckoning you to see him in all his dazzling brightness, beckoning you to see him with transfigured eyes, with eyes that see beyond the horizon.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you command me to listen to the words of your Son, who constantly speaks life into my being. Help me to rid myself of the box that is labeled “impossible” so that I can fully give myself over to your love. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, knowing that with you all things are possible.

Labeling the Impossible (February 16, 2012)

…Opening To…

I caught a glimpse of Your splendor in the corner of my eye the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And it was like a flash of lightning reflected off the sky, and I know I’ll never be the same. (Third Day, “Show Me Your Glory”)

…Listening In…

Then a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice spoke from the cloud, “This is my Son, whom I dearly love. Listen to him!” (Mark 9:7; context)

…Filling Up…

You could store Jesus’ other miracles in a box and refuse to believe the horizon between God and humanity is more permeable than was originally thought. But this, this transfiguration, this holy event Peter witnesses with his own eyes would never fit in the box, no matter how precisely he might have constructed those three tents.

And why not? In this event, Jesus doesn’t change. He is neither better nor more holy than he was before. But Peter, James, and John are granted the gift of seeing Jesus as God sees him – dazzlingly bright and beloved. The Greek word we translate as “Transfiguration” has been transmitted directly into our own language. The English equivalent is metamorphosis, a complete change in form or shape. So, in this transfiguration, what changes, if not Jesus?

Until the mountaintop, the disciples had seen some things, some miracles, and they thought they understood them. But their small understanding was dangerous because it amounted to just enough to create an unwarranted category labeled “impossible.” In this category, in this box, they stored everything that ran counter to what they thought they knew about the world. They were terrified of the walking on water. Their hearts were hardened about the multiplied loaves. “Who then is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?” And yet, Jesus did all these things, and he couldn’t care less what they labeled “impossible.”

The change, the metamorphosis, that occurs on the mountaintop happens when Peter fails to begin his construction of the three tents. A cloud overshadows the disciples, and they hear a voice: “This is my Son, whom I dearly love. Listen to him!” Then, all of sudden, they look around and the horizon is back to normal. But nothing would ever be “normal” again. (to be concluded tomorrow…)

…Praying For…

Dear God, in the Transfiguration, you changed the way Jesus’ friends saw him. Help me to look at the world through these same eyes, so that I can see your hand at work around me. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, knowing that with you all things are possible.