Last Sunday of Epiphany
Wednesday is Ash Wednesday when we begin the season of Lent. I love the season of Lent, if for no other reason than it’s an invitation to step out of the busy chaos of our lives and take some intentional time to listen to God. You know if we're not careful we can become so busy doing good things that need to be done, that we forget why we're doing them in the first place. This kind of busyness is dangerous for all of us though, ironically it can be the very thing that separates us from God.
Our society puts such emphasis on activity that it's impossible not to get pulled into this trap. You know, even in our worship, we can become so active and busy about how we do it, that we forget why we do it. It’s easy to forget that we come here not to critique and perfect the worship experience but rather to vulnerably lay open our lives so the mystery of God's presence can touch us and refresh us. You can't do that if you're preoccupied with whether the chalice and paten are setting dead center on the altar. That’s why I love the directions in the liturgy that suggest silence. It’s as if God is saying at these points "Hey you, stop and listen for a change.” The Prayer Book directs us specifically to observe silence four times in the Eucharist: after each of the lessons, before the Confession, and after the Breaking of the Bread.
Henri Nouwen warns us that without silence words lose their meaning. He says, “The careful balance between silence and words, withdrawal and involvement, distance and closeness, solitude and community forms the basis of the Christian life and should therefore be the subject of our most personal attention.” 1
We don't like those empty spaces of silence; they make us feel panicky. We interpret it as a symptom that something is wrong. It’s difficult to intentionally be still and listen, to resist the temptation to get busy and do something.
That temptation is exemplified in the gospel today. Jesus has taken his closest three disciples, Peter, James and John with him up a high mountain to find a quiet place to pray. The disciples are tired and sleepy, but they stay awake and after Jesus prays for a time, he is transfigured before their very eyes. His face changes and his clothes become dazzling white. And then the two prophets of old, Moses and Elijah, appear and they are talking to Jesus about what he will do in Jerusalem. It must have been an astounding experience, but poor old Peter you know he can’t just sit there and not do something. He can’t just experience the glory of this miraculous moment and drink it all in. He has to get busy, so he makes a motion to build three dwellings, little monuments for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah.
What Peter has in mind is probably similar to the temporary structures that the Jews built for the Feast of Booths. A booth was a temporary shelter and apparently Peter’s motive is to honor, but I suspect he also wants to protect and preserve this glorious experience of transfiguration. It would be natural to want that sort of experience to last longer. But God doesn’t want the disciples to get busy. God appears over them in a cloud and in a loud voice he says "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" Well, as you might imagine, this gets their attention and they do just that...they listen. There are times that God wants us to be still; just like there are times that God wants us to take action. I’m not saying that God wants us to be still and silent all the time. I suppose it's a question of that balance that Nouwen speaks of.
It’s rarely possible for us to see the imbalances in our own spiritual lives. Like Peter we can have the best motives in the world, getting busy for God, and just not realize that things are off center. But eventually, I believe that God sends a cloud over our heads in one form or another. It may be an experience, maybe a crisis in our life, or a person, or exhaustion, or even one of those moments of silence in worship. God sends an epiphany, something that stops us dead in our tracks and allows us to experience God in a way that brings us back to the center. We may see it as a dark cloud but dark clouds aren’t always bad. Sometimes they bring lightning and thunder, but they also bring rain to nourish our souls, but most of all they get our attention. Those clouds, those epiphanies, those transfiguration experiences can open our eyes, in a brief, rarified moment; they can enable us to catch a glimpse of the Kingdom of God.
Jesus is present here today as real as you and I are present and he stands with arms wide open. And it doesn’t really matter who you are or where you are in life, you might be at a good place or maybe you’re at the very bottom, you may be at a place where you are frightened and asking very difficult questions. It doesn’t matter if you believe correctly or maybe you don’t even believe at all. Jesus is present at this altar. Jesus is here to touch your heart and soul. Jesus waits patiently and invites you to be still and listen, so that you may be filled with God’s Grace and Love. Amen
The Rev. Dennis Campbell
1 Nouwen, Henri, Out of Solitude.
