God said to Moses, "Come up to
me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone,
with the law and the commandment, which I have written for instruction."
So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up to the mountain
of God. To the elders he said, "Wait here for us, until we come to you
again; Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them."
Then Moses went up on the mountain, and it was covered in cloud. The glory of
God settled on Mount Sinai, and cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh
day God called to Moses out of the cloud. The appearance of God’s glory was
like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain, in the sight of the people of
Israel. Moses entered the cloud, went up on the mountain, and was on the
mountain for forty days and forty nights.
******************************************************************
Jesus took with him Peter, James and his brother John, and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. He was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." When they looked up, no one was there except Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
TRANSFIGURATION
The path narrows, takes a forgotten turn as it disappears over a wooded hill
and into a deeper forest. We travel this road by heart.
The twisted trees, untended and overgrown, obscure our view,
grasp at us as we pass.
We will be wearied by the persistent wind and the gritty light,
wishing for some better company than our own twisted and untended selves.
Though some great-winged creature lurks at the edges of our sight,
still we shall push on. What is good in us will keep us from turning back.
This journey will try us, teach us, take us the long way home.
******************************************************************
Jesus took with him Peter, James and his brother John, and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. He was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." When they looked up, no one was there except Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
TRANSFIGURATION
The path narrows, takes a forgotten turn as it disappears over a wooded hill
and into a deeper forest. We travel this road by heart.
The twisted trees, untended and overgrown, obscure our view,
grasp at us as we pass.
We will be wearied by the persistent wind and the gritty light,
wishing for some better company than our own twisted and untended selves.
Though some great-winged creature lurks at the edges of our sight,
still we shall push on. What is good in us will keep us from turning back.
This journey will try us, teach us, take us the long way home.
Today there is time for one more
'Alleluia' before we enter these Lenten lands.
Perhaps it will be when a crocus purples the morning,
or an early peeper rises from the mud to sing us a sign,
or when we look up to see our reflection in another pair of eyes,
then step back to marvel at that shining face which bids us go.
****************************************************************************
Near the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, after the long and wearying journey to Mount Doom, almost dying more than once along the way, often lost and dispirited, Sam tells Frodo he understands why they go on, through the mires and swamps, the dead lands – He says “because there is still some good in the world, something worth holding onto.” So together they climb to the very heart of Mount Doom, and there the One Ring of power finally finds its way into the fires and is destroyed. As they lie on a huge boulder poking up out of swirling lava waiting for death, Frodo says to Sam, “I’m glad you’re here with me, Sam, here at the end of all things.
But they were not at the end, as it turned out. They went back down the mountain and had to go on living in the world of the Shire. There is no question that their particular experience was horrendous to body and soul, and they were forever changed by it. Sam is able to make the adjustment, Frodo never does. I think partly because after all they have been through, to call it a’transcendent moment’ might not fit. And yet it was.
Have you ever experienced a transcendent moment, when time and reality are suspended, and you see and know everything, become a part of everything. I am going to describe a personal experience - and this is a big risk, because ever I am afraid to speak of it, other than with trusted people. Five years ago, I was awakened by a presence - the only way I can describe it - and felt rather than heard ‘Don’t be afraid.’ In a flash, the whole of the universe, the connection of everything became real. I was nothing more than a tiny mote - in fact, there was no “I” any more at all. For several days I was convinced I was losing my mind, and got on the computer to research mental illness. I racked my brains for someone to whom I could talk in safety, finally going to a friend who is both an ordained Methodist and a Buddhist priest. He understood my reluctance to talk, since he noted many Buddhists spend their whole lives trying to have a transcendent experience, and it never happens. He left me with these words: “Don’t try to hold on to it, don’t try to grasp it, don’t try to stay in that place or recreate the experience. Hold it lightly.”
To the Celtic peoples, thin places are incredibly real. One has to differentiate between a physical perspective and a spiritual one. In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the Other world is thin - and the two can meet. This meaning assumes the perceiver senses the existence of a world beyond what we know through our five senses.
Truth abides in thin places; naked, raw, hard to face truth. Yet the comfort, safety and strength to face that truth also abides there. Thin places captivate our imagination, yet diminish our existence. We become very small, yet we gain connection and become part of something larger than we can perceive. The human spirit is awakened and will grow if the body and mind allow it. Simply put, a thin place is a place where one experiences that mysterious power.
Perhaps it will be when a crocus purples the morning,
or an early peeper rises from the mud to sing us a sign,
or when we look up to see our reflection in another pair of eyes,
then step back to marvel at that shining face which bids us go.
****************************************************************************
Near the end of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, after the long and wearying journey to Mount Doom, almost dying more than once along the way, often lost and dispirited, Sam tells Frodo he understands why they go on, through the mires and swamps, the dead lands – He says “because there is still some good in the world, something worth holding onto.” So together they climb to the very heart of Mount Doom, and there the One Ring of power finally finds its way into the fires and is destroyed. As they lie on a huge boulder poking up out of swirling lava waiting for death, Frodo says to Sam, “I’m glad you’re here with me, Sam, here at the end of all things.
But they were not at the end, as it turned out. They went back down the mountain and had to go on living in the world of the Shire. There is no question that their particular experience was horrendous to body and soul, and they were forever changed by it. Sam is able to make the adjustment, Frodo never does. I think partly because after all they have been through, to call it a’transcendent moment’ might not fit. And yet it was.
Have you ever experienced a transcendent moment, when time and reality are suspended, and you see and know everything, become a part of everything. I am going to describe a personal experience - and this is a big risk, because ever I am afraid to speak of it, other than with trusted people. Five years ago, I was awakened by a presence - the only way I can describe it - and felt rather than heard ‘Don’t be afraid.’ In a flash, the whole of the universe, the connection of everything became real. I was nothing more than a tiny mote - in fact, there was no “I” any more at all. For several days I was convinced I was losing my mind, and got on the computer to research mental illness. I racked my brains for someone to whom I could talk in safety, finally going to a friend who is both an ordained Methodist and a Buddhist priest. He understood my reluctance to talk, since he noted many Buddhists spend their whole lives trying to have a transcendent experience, and it never happens. He left me with these words: “Don’t try to hold on to it, don’t try to grasp it, don’t try to stay in that place or recreate the experience. Hold it lightly.”
To the Celtic peoples, thin places are incredibly real. One has to differentiate between a physical perspective and a spiritual one. In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the Other world is thin - and the two can meet. This meaning assumes the perceiver senses the existence of a world beyond what we know through our five senses.
Truth abides in thin places; naked, raw, hard to face truth. Yet the comfort, safety and strength to face that truth also abides there. Thin places captivate our imagination, yet diminish our existence. We become very small, yet we gain connection and become part of something larger than we can perceive. The human spirit is awakened and will grow if the body and mind allow it. Simply put, a thin place is a place where one experiences that mysterious power.
Moses goes up a mountain to speak to
God, and if you read further on in Exodus, he returns with his face shining
like the sun. And after that experience he covers his face with a veil,
removing it only in those times when he goes alone before God.
Jesus and his three closest friends go up the highest mountain in the area. They stop near the summit, and sit down for a rest. The three begin to nod off, but then notice Jesus’ face radiating light; his clothes become glistening white. Could this have been what the Israelites saw when Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Sinai and his face shone so that he had to cover it?
In both cases, I believe, Moses and Jesus have a transcendent experience which changes them right at the very heart of their spiritual core - and the experience is so profound it shines out of them. So do the three disciples, although they don’t quite know it yet.
The disciples had seen this glorious event in dumbstruck silence. Dear impulsive Peter wanted to remain *in* this mountain-top experience and stop the clock. He had seen “Paree”; he didn't want to return to the farm. When he found his voice, he said to Jesus, "Master, it's a good thing that we are here; let us make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let’s stay here, where we've seen how glorious life can be. Let's preserve this glorious moment and not worry about going back from this light."
Jesus and his three closest friends go up the highest mountain in the area. They stop near the summit, and sit down for a rest. The three begin to nod off, but then notice Jesus’ face radiating light; his clothes become glistening white. Could this have been what the Israelites saw when Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Sinai and his face shone so that he had to cover it?
In both cases, I believe, Moses and Jesus have a transcendent experience which changes them right at the very heart of their spiritual core - and the experience is so profound it shines out of them. So do the three disciples, although they don’t quite know it yet.
The disciples had seen this glorious event in dumbstruck silence. Dear impulsive Peter wanted to remain *in* this mountain-top experience and stop the clock. He had seen “Paree”; he didn't want to return to the farm. When he found his voice, he said to Jesus, "Master, it's a good thing that we are here; let us make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let’s stay here, where we've seen how glorious life can be. Let's preserve this glorious moment and not worry about going back from this light."
Jesus, you will note, tells them not
even to talk about it when they get back down the mountain. He had no words
himself, and likely Peter’s stammering sounded like gibberish. It was a
transforming experience which probably left him speechless. It might even have
caused him to doubt his sanity a little. While he believed in the power of God,
this was the real thing.
My friend
Anna Murdock is a lay person in the United Methodist Church who finds her voice
through writing and leading worship workshops. “I think this is true. There are no words to
give name to such a time when the Divine Veil has been lifted in one’s
presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s Presence and our deep desire to put a
time such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part -
even confusion as to what has taken place.” Anna says “I feel as if I have the
word “PETER” written across my forehead, as my heart wants to blurt out words
that will only prove themselves to be a jumbled-up mess. It is then that a holy
finger presses against my lips and we hear “Shhhh - this is my son, my chosen.
Listen to him.” and the Divine Veil is lifted if only for a moment.”
And yet, Jesus still comes to the others and says “Get up, and don’t be afraid.” And then he says “Don’t speak to anyone about this vision, until the Son of Man returns.”
Moses, having been to one of those thin places and encountering the radiant presence of God, then has to come back down and try to explain to the Israelites. How mundane, to return from communing with God to explaining to this “stubborn and stiff-necked people” what God’s intent was. What a drag!
So Jesus and the three come back down with their eyes bugging out, Peter gabbling away, and Jesus not really listening, probably wanting some quiet and reflective time; they get to the bottom of the mountain, find a crowd waiting. There’s a man with an epileptic son, who says he asked the other disciples to heal his son, but they could not. And Jesus says probably one of the most human things which ever came out his mouth, something like “Does it never end? How long do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy to me.” Can you hear the utter exasperation in his voice? After such a transcendent mountaintop experience, isn’t this the last thing one would want to deal with? I can almost guarantee Jesus is still mentally and spiritually back there. How mundane and small it must have seemed. I can see him asking himself “Is this all there is? Is this what it’s about?” Was this experience to become only a dimly remembered high moment in a never-ending sea of need? Because after awhile the memory still is real, but distorted and faded – all we know is that somehow we are irrevocably changed..
Rev. Thomas Hall says that relating to this experience is most difficult, because it could never be repeated. Some Christians go to the Bible stories to try to replicate what they read. In the process, the Scriptures are turned into rigid formulae that dictate what our experiences can be. We reduce the stories to rules, truths, and doctrines; and when we think we've got the truth we become intolerant of others who understand the same truth in a different way. Yet even the gospel writers place different interpretations on the Transfiguration experience. Mark sees it as a mountain top experience, Matthew sees it as a vision, Luke as a prayer meeting.
So we let the experience of transfiguration stand as it is - one brief moment of clarity and revelation - a stepping into a thin place; we catch a glimpse of radiant and transcendent glory. Then we come back to earth, to the people around us who hurt and need healing, to the ordinary and everyday, things which look drab and mundane, colorless and unexciting. The trick is to look at those ordinary, everyday things, remove the veil, and see the glory in them as well.
It’s here that I want to lead in to the next three weeks of sermons. Almost right before this experience, Jesus had been asked how we should pray, and he responded with a prayer which we now call the Lord’s Prayer. On the surface, it seems simply enough - and yet it is a profound call to living, down here at the bottom of the mountain - and to find a transforming experience within it. It seems significant that Jesus offers this prayer to them, then has a transforming experience himself - and then all of them, Jesus included, have to go back to the real world, and live that prayer.
And yet, Jesus still comes to the others and says “Get up, and don’t be afraid.” And then he says “Don’t speak to anyone about this vision, until the Son of Man returns.”
Moses, having been to one of those thin places and encountering the radiant presence of God, then has to come back down and try to explain to the Israelites. How mundane, to return from communing with God to explaining to this “stubborn and stiff-necked people” what God’s intent was. What a drag!
So Jesus and the three come back down with their eyes bugging out, Peter gabbling away, and Jesus not really listening, probably wanting some quiet and reflective time; they get to the bottom of the mountain, find a crowd waiting. There’s a man with an epileptic son, who says he asked the other disciples to heal his son, but they could not. And Jesus says probably one of the most human things which ever came out his mouth, something like “Does it never end? How long do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy to me.” Can you hear the utter exasperation in his voice? After such a transcendent mountaintop experience, isn’t this the last thing one would want to deal with? I can almost guarantee Jesus is still mentally and spiritually back there. How mundane and small it must have seemed. I can see him asking himself “Is this all there is? Is this what it’s about?” Was this experience to become only a dimly remembered high moment in a never-ending sea of need? Because after awhile the memory still is real, but distorted and faded – all we know is that somehow we are irrevocably changed..
Rev. Thomas Hall says that relating to this experience is most difficult, because it could never be repeated. Some Christians go to the Bible stories to try to replicate what they read. In the process, the Scriptures are turned into rigid formulae that dictate what our experiences can be. We reduce the stories to rules, truths, and doctrines; and when we think we've got the truth we become intolerant of others who understand the same truth in a different way. Yet even the gospel writers place different interpretations on the Transfiguration experience. Mark sees it as a mountain top experience, Matthew sees it as a vision, Luke as a prayer meeting.
So we let the experience of transfiguration stand as it is - one brief moment of clarity and revelation - a stepping into a thin place; we catch a glimpse of radiant and transcendent glory. Then we come back to earth, to the people around us who hurt and need healing, to the ordinary and everyday, things which look drab and mundane, colorless and unexciting. The trick is to look at those ordinary, everyday things, remove the veil, and see the glory in them as well.
It’s here that I want to lead in to the next three weeks of sermons. Almost right before this experience, Jesus had been asked how we should pray, and he responded with a prayer which we now call the Lord’s Prayer. On the surface, it seems simply enough - and yet it is a profound call to living, down here at the bottom of the mountain - and to find a transforming experience within it. It seems significant that Jesus offers this prayer to them, then has a transforming experience himself - and then all of them, Jesus included, have to go back to the real world, and live that prayer.
To be People
of the Way, to be willing to be transformed, and then to carry on with the work
of the church in a new way, not holding on, is our calling as we begin the walk
of Lent.
Amen.
Sources:
1. Poem “Transfiguration”, by Rev. Tim Haut, Deep River Pastoral Charge, 2011.
2. Sermon “A Mountaintop Experience”, by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor United Methodist Church USA
3. Sermon “Prayer Mountain” by Rev. Thomas Hall, Mayflower UCC, Billings, MT.
Sources:
1. Poem “Transfiguration”, by Rev. Tim Haut, Deep River Pastoral Charge, 2011.
2. Sermon “A Mountaintop Experience”, by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor United Methodist Church USA
3. Sermon “Prayer Mountain” by Rev. Thomas Hall, Mayflower UCC, Billings, MT.
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