Sermon. 6 August 2023.
The Feast of the Transfiguration
Luke 9:28-36
[On the day I preached without notes,
but the sermon followed this form.]
Today is a day of great poignancy for
me. I truly hope that it is not the last time we meet, nor that it is the last
time I serve you by leading worship in some capacity. But what today is is the
last time I will be rota-ed to serve you according to the pattern we have had.
I will be moving much nearer to my place of work.
One of the things I have done as your
preacher, at least at times, is seek to question some of the classical or
settled or predictable or well-worn interpretations of Bible passages. Most
obviously, I have done this by drawing things out from the original languages.
It occurs to me that, in the world, one word for this challenge is that I have
been something of an “iconoclast”. That’s ironic however, as one thing I am not
is an iconoclast, a destroyer of icons. I worship with icons and cannot imagine
worshipping consistently without icons. I am then, the opposite of an
iconoclast, which is (as you’ll remember) an iconodule. I am also perfectly
orthodox, by the way. I’d want to affirm that it is possible to be utterly
orthodox, and still find Bible passages stranger than they are normally
presented as being.
And today is the Feast of the
Transfiguration, the mountain top experience enjoyed by Peter, James, and
John, when they see Jesus lit up with a brightness beyond description, and are
told to listen to him. I am, you will have guessed, going to be true to form,
and question some of the standard statements that preachers up and down the
country will be bringing, right now.
First, I raise this question: Who
was changed? Who was changed in this meeting. At the surface level, this is
easy, as the text plainly says “while [Jesus] was praying, the appearance of
his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” So the change happens
to Jesus. But! But this might just be from the perspective of the disciples. At
a deeper level, it may be that the disciples were changed. Their eyes were
strengthened to see Jesus as he already and always was. The argument here is
that the brightness they saw was the brightness of Divinity, for Jesus was
always fully Gd as Gd is Gd, as well as fully human as humans are humans. This
position is common among Eastern Orthodox Christians. The Orthodox insist that
Gd is personal, is Person, and also insist that Gd is Light, is
uncreated Light, Light like no other. So the disciples were given the gift of
seeing fully the Light that was there.
My next question: Jesus is
accompanied, at least for a while, by Moses and by Elijah. Why
these two? Here, if ever, there is a standard answer: Moses represents the
Law, or the whole Teaching of Sinai; Elijah represents the Prophets. This has a
core plausibility to it, as one way of describing the Scriptures of Jesus’ day
was as “the Law/Torah and the Prophets”. But! But I am not convinced. There is
no tradition of Elijah “standing for” the Prophets, before this story. So it
would not be self-evident. And Elijah is not a typical Prophet. He might be
said to be more a wonderworker. The first person in the Bible to be called a
prophet is Abraham. The first prophet who appears in the Prophetic corpus is
Samuel. The greatest Prophet who wrote a book – greatest in terms of size and
in terms of importance - is Isaiah. Surely a Samuel or an Isaiah would have a
better claim to “stand for” the Prophets?
In fact, there are other reasons why
it is precisely Moses and Elijah who appear here. It is that they are both
already known in the Scriptures as the Shining Ones.
You may remember that when Moses
ascends Mount Sinai to speak with Gd as a friend speaks to a friend, his face
shines (Ex 34:29ff). He doesn’t realise it, but the Israelites are in awe of
the sight, so much so that Moses wears a veil over his face when speaking to
them. Elijah, you may also remember, ascends into heaven, on what? A chariot of
fire (2 Kings 2:9ff). And Elisha his disciple cries out with awe himself: “Father,
father! The chariots of Israel and their horses!” Such brightness! So surely it
makes sense if, alongside the uncreated Light of Jesus as Gd, the disciples see
the reflected glory already associated with Moses, and with Elijah. Maybe they
don’t “stand for” anything in the story, other than the manifold glory of Gd in
the world.
My third question is not a detail
within the story, but involves taking a step back. It is: Do we really make
enough of the Feast? We are marking it on a Sunday, but that is coincidence
only. Next year it will fall on a Tuesday, and will be only a lesser festival.
Optional, in other words. I think, however, that it is a great Feast of the
Lord. Not as important as Easter or Christmas, but arguably in the rank below
that.
I say this because “Transfiguration”
(once we see what it means, and it is no longer jargon) is a good way of
describing the difference Jesus makes. I know we are used to thinking of Jesus
as fulfilling the prophecies and promises of the Old Testament (the Hebrew
Bible). There is certainly a place for that kind of language. But, it’s
complicated. The promises and prophecies of the Hebrew Bible grow in scope as
the story continues. And by the time we get to Isaiah, then certainly we are
led to look forward to a world put right. A world where there is peace with
justice with freedom with forgiveness with feasting. And all this is for all.
That little tiny Israel enjoys these things can only mean the world is healed.
Gd lives with humankind. This is not my hyperbole. It is what the promise is.
And (I am sorry if this shocks you)…
we are not there yet. That’s not the world we live in. It didn’t come about
with Jesus’ birth, or his death, or his resurrection, or with the founding of
the Church at Pentecost, or with any Church movement since then. So we find we
have to speak about Jesus as “the beginning of the fulfilment”, and
that’s rather a different idea. So, other language to set alongside that of
fulfilment is indeed… Transfiguration.
Jesus does not solve the problems of
the world by his very presence. But he can and does transfigure lives. With
Jesus, your life can know a radiance which can make all the difference. I did
sow the seed of this thought with prisoners in this last week. Prisoners said
of course it often does not feel like that. I agreed. In truth, for all of us,
it often does not feel like that. But I think we all can have intimations of
the brightness with which Jesus enlightens us and the world. And we can trust
those intimations. We try them out for size, and we find they enable us to live
more fully.
It may be that in saying this I am
pushing at an open door. After all, let us all look East. Your stained glass window
[of the Transfiguration] tells the story so powerfully. With Peter, we can say:
“it is good for us to be here”. Certainly I say it, here and now. It has
been good for me to be here. It is good for me to be here. The radiance of
Christ is and has been present in this place, and not only in the stained glass.
I thank you for your fellowship, fellowship which transfigures.
Amen.
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