Luke 9:28-36

“New Vision”

The Reverend Victoria Millar

Covenant Presbyterian Church, Racine, WI

Transfiguration Sunday, February 14, 2010

Luke 9:28   Now about eight days after these sayings

Jesus took with him Peter and John and James,

and went up on the mountain to pray.

29And while he was praying,

the appearance of his face changed,

and his clothes became dazzling white.

30Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.

 31They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure,

which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.

32Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep;

but since they had stayed awake,

they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.

33Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus,

 ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings,

   one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’—not knowing what he said.

34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them;

and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.

35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen;* listen to him!’

36When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.

And they kept silent

 and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

The word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

In a collection of essays, author Malcolm Gladwell tells this story: ^[1]

In the days before the invention of photography,

a horse in motion was represented in drawings and paintings

     according to the convention of ventre a terre which means belly to the ground.

Horses were drawn with their front legs extended beyond their heads

            and their hind legs stretched straight back

because that was the way, in the blur of movement, a horse seemed to gallop.

 Older Currier and Ives prints

                        showed horse racing this way.^[2]

Then in the 1870’s came Eadweard Muybridge with his famous sequential photographs of a galloping horse.^[3]

And that was the end of ventre a terre and its horses outstretched in mid-air

                                    because artists realized a horse runs in a more complicated way.

They saw the horse’s power comes from diagonal synchronization,

            the right front leg extending simultaneously with the left hind leg.

After artists saw the first freeze frames,

            a gallop in real time would never look the same.

                To the unaided eye, horses pounding down a track were still a flurry of hooves.                                                 Yet in the mind’s eye, the artist could now perceive the pattern and rhythm of movement.

    For the first time, they had a new vision of the reality, power and beauty of a horse.

Today’s gospel lesson is about a another kind of vision.

  By vision I mean an altered state of consciousness, an experience of the holy.

    The Bible is full of visions.

       Abraham,^[4] Jacob, Job, Daniel, Peter and John, they all had visions.

            Ezekiel’s vision was a valley of dry bones, rattling and reviving.

               The hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy” which we sang this morning was Isaiah’s vision

                         of cherubim and seraphim bowing down before God’s throne.^[5]

Visions are promised to God’s people.

  Through the prophet Joel, God says:                         

“I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh;

your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,

your old men shall dream dreams,

and your young men shall see visions.”

I would raise my hand to receive a vision if God asked for volunteers.

       But I’m not sure I’d trust only my own eyes.

So today’s gospel is ideal from my perspective:

            one overwhelming encounter with the holy experienced by three disciples,

            a shared vision.          

In today’s text Jesus leads his closest disciples, Peter, John and James, to a remote place to pray.

They go up a mountain, the destination from time immemorial where humans seek the divine.

And while Jesus is praying, he is transfigured before them—

                                                transformed—the Greek word is metamorphosis.                                         

                                                            In some physical way he is resplendent, glowing and luminous.

In some spiritual way he is transparent and clarified.

This would be startling enough.

But then, on the mountain, the past washes into the present and the future.

   Moses and the great prophet Elijah appear also in glory.

And they speak with Jesus about what he will in Jerusalem.

And if Moses is the personification of the law.

            and if Elijah is the personification of the prophets

                                    then Jesus is taking his place,

                                                literally standing in the Jewish tradition of the law and the prophets.

These three—the law, the prophets and the Word made flesh--

 literally embody God’s communication to God’s people.

Then a cloud came and overshadowed them, terrifying the disciples.

            And from the cloud came a voice from heaven

                        proclaiming Jesus exceeds even Moses and Elijah.

                                    “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

When the voice had spoken, the vision was complete.

       Jesus was found alone.

      And they kept silent--although surely they must have asked each other what they saw and what it meant.                 But in those days, they told no one.

Most scholars would say Jesus took his three most trusted disciples

    because they were being prepared, groomed—dare we say elevated--to become leaders.

          Most scholars say at the summit, Jesus revealed his inner nature to his inner circle.

                        And it was then that they saw a new vision of the reality, power and beauty of Jesus.

And I would also say the purpose of a divine vision is enlightenment

            but also practical and practice-able.

                         The purpose is to lead the visionary

                                    to be a greater vessel of God’s love in the world.

 And after the summit,

    after they saw the radiant Jesus,

     after they heard the voice proclaiming him Son,

        after they returned down the mountain and re-joined the other disciples,

            a month later, at the end of yet another bone-weary day of dusty roads and clamoring crowds

               when they finally built a fire and stretched out to rest

                        I imagine these three disciples wondered

                                    whether tomorrow was the day to give up and go home to a less demanding life.

                                       Then I imagine they looked hard at Jesus

                                                and saw the spark in his eyes

                                                      like the vision on the mountain.

                                                            And then they found new courage to follow him.

As human beings, we know our vision is limited.

       And so we invent electron microscopes, night vision goggles and the Hubble telescope.

               We invent fiberoptic cameras for microsurgery.

                        We collect satellite photographs and update Google earth.

                                    We line up to see the new movie Avatar and pay extra for the 3D glasses.

We are ever eager to see more.

Whether we know it or not,

            we yearn for a glimpse of a greater reality, a higher power and a deeper beauty.

                        And while a few may receive large visions once in a lifetime,

                                    all of us have opportunities to experience smaller but important visions.

And so this Wednesday is Ash Wednesday,

            the beginning of Lent,

                        a period of 40 weekdays and six Sundays

                                    which begins with cold ashes on the forehead

                                                and ends in the bright dawn of Easter.

It is a time of spiritual introspection and looking inward.

            We try to slow down and step off the everyday treadmill

                        that we might see and feel our need for God.           

Every year on Ash Wednesday, we worship together here.

            And we take the ashes made from last year’s Palm Sunday celebration

                        and receive on our foreheads the mark of the cross with the words:

                                    “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Now there is nothing more lifeless or colorless than ash.

    And these may be the most somber of all words:  Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.

But I find what happens to those receiving the somber words and the sooty cross

            is nothing less than participation in a shared vision.

We come as individuals of different ages, different sizes, different educations,

                        different temperaments, different economics and different health.

                              Yet with two stripes of ash on skin

                                    our differences suddenly fade. 

                                                And what comes into sharp focus is that our differences are superficial.

                                                      The most important truth about us is that we are similar--

                                                            no, we are identical in our complete need for God

                                                                        who gave us love and life when we were but dust

                                                                          and to whom we will surrender when all our days are done.

I used to like working in downtown Chicago on Ash Wednesday

            because on that day a lot of office workers would go to noon services at the nearby churches.

               Those who received ashes would wear the mark for the rest of the day.

                   As I walked down the sidewalk, the crosses just kept coming.

          As I boarded the train I saw crosses, some gazing down at books,

others looking out the window. reflected in the glass.

                        I felt like I was seeing an otherwise invisible society of those who knew they needed God.                             

                                    But it would be more visionary if I could see every person marked that way,

                                                not because they all call themselves Christians

                                                            but because the truth about each of us whether we know it or not

                                                                        is the mystery of God’s love giving us life,

                                                                                    which some of us see in Jesus Christ.                                 

And this vision recurs.

            I imagine a month from now, maybe in June,

 you will have a day when you’re running late for many reasons

                           and you can feel the tension building in your body, your shoulders creeping up to your ears.

                             And as you race to catch up, you find yourself looking at others

                                    especially strangers,

                                                as if they were not people

but obstacles to be overcome

                                                               in the check out line, on the highway or waiting for the ATM.

            And in that tension, I hope you could be startled to see out of the corner of your eye

                        an ash cross marked on someone’s forehead,

                                    first one person, then another and another.

                                       It would be a small vision that could lead you to actually see the faces around you

                                                and silently bless each one

                                                            remembering we are all frail as dust

                                                                        and identical in our need for God’s care and mercy.

And today, here this morning Covenant Church will ordain and install men and women

            as deacons and elders,

                        and everyone who has already been ordained will be invited to come forward

                                    for the laying on of hands.

And if you see men and women making bold promises

and kneeling down to accept a spiritual mantle of servanthood

            that traces back to the apostles themselves,

     if you see men and women, here and now,

            rising from their knees taller, with a new courage to carry God’s love into the world,

                        then you have participated in nothing less than a shared vision.  

And if the purpose of even small visions is to lead us to become greater vessels of God’s love,

            what else could we pray except “Be Thou My Vision“?

In the name of the Father who sent the Son and the Son who sent the Spirit.

            They are for us the divine search party from whom we shall never be lost.

                        Amen and amen.