Transfiguration A
February 26, 2017
Matthew17:1-9
Preaching at Reformation Lutheran (pulpit exchange)
It’s
wonderful to be with you this morning! Thank you for welcoming me into your
congregation. When the list came out for the pulpit exchange, I was delighted to
see I had been assigned to be with the good folks at Reformation.
Since we don’t know each other very
well, let me start by telling you two fun facts about myself: 1) I love to shop
at thrift and consignment shops, because I hate buying things new. And 2) I
love to talk to strangers.
With those two facts about me in
mind, let me tell you a story about a time I was totally in my element, and
then I totally wasn’t: A few years ago, I was shopping at one of my favorite
consignment shops, and found a sweater I liked. While I was paying, I was
trying to make conversation with the woman who worked there, but she was very
disjointed, and kept saying how scattered her mind was this week… and then she
finally said, “I’ve been absent-minded all week. My niece was killed on
Sunday.” Figuring she must have told me this because she needed to talk about
it, I gently asked what happened, and listened to her story. As she spoke I
felt a voice saying, “Tell her you’re a pastor. Give her your contact info.
Pray with her.” I started praying silently throughout the conversation, but the
voice wouldn’t quit. But something kept me from listening to it: I was afraid.
I didn’t want things to turn awkward. I didn’t want to put myself out there.
Before I left, I told her I would be praying for her and her family, but even
as I said it I knew that I still wasn’t listening to what that voice was
telling me, because I was still afraid.
It turns out, that encounter happened
just before Transfiguration Day, and that year, I heard this story of Jesus’
magnificent change on a mountaintop a little differently. The part that leapt
out and clung to my heart was first God’s words, “This is my Son. Listen to him!”
followed so shortly by, “and the disciples fell to the ground and were overcome
with fear.” It seemed to describe to a T my encounter in the consignment shop,
where God had clearly said to my heart, “This is my Son, listen to him!” and I
– even though I love talking to strangers – responded with fear and resistance.
Tell me I’m not alone here. Do you
have a similar story? A time when you felt God telling you something, but the
task for whatever reason seemed to overwhelm you with fear? It happens to me all
the time: I see an opportunity, I am excited by the potential of it, but I
quickly dismiss the idea because I am too afraid… rationalizing it with
statements like, “It’ll never work, it won’t make a difference, I don’t have
time, it’s too expensive,” and other reasonable things like that. You see,
“This is my Son. Listen to him!” said that
voice to the disciples, and so also to me and to all of us. And they fell to
the ground and were overcome with fear. They did not know what it might mean to
listen to Jesus. What might he tell them to do – things that are difficult and
scary and out of their comfort zone?
What might it mean for their lives – a change? A transformation for
which they aren’t prepared? A venture into a way of life that is entirely
unfamiliar? Of course they – we! – are overcome with fear!
This month, Reformation has been
observing Black History Month, and Pastor Imani let me know that on this
Sunday, The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. would be the person from black
history that is lifted up. Of course, he is not only a part of black history,
but an integral part of American history. His dreams and his words, woven
together with the promises of scripture that shaped him as a Baptist preacher,
have become as ingrained in our American vocabulary as the Declaration of
Independence or the Gettysburg Address. His relentless work on behalf of civil
rights is widely commended, lauded, and lifted up as faithful and patriotic example.
He is a giant of American history, a contemporary prophet.
Of course, like all prophets, he
wasn’t nearly so lauded in the time when he was doing that important work. He
was threatened, arrested, dismissed, even received hundreds of death threats. He
recounts one night in 1956, after receiving a particularly chilling death
threat, when he found himself unable to sleep. He
“This is my
Son. Listen to him!” Thank God that brother Martin was not afraid that night to
listen to Jesus’ voice! He had every reason to be – far more reason than most
of us have to dismiss God’s calling to us. He had every reason to go to that
mountaintop to view the Promised Land, and respond, “No way. It is too hard.
The personal sacrifice is too great. I quit.” But he didn’t. He listened. He
kept that vision of God’s glory in his heart and mind. And though he may very
well have been overcome by fear, he marched on, fought for the oppressed, and
rode that arc of the moral universe just as close to justice as he could get in
his too-short time on earth.
What an important time in history it
is to lift up his legacy – his legacy of listening to Christ in the face of
fear, and acting in faith. As I look around at the state of the world, the
state of our country, I keep on thinking: we’ve got work to do. Division and
hatred are rampant. Racism looks different now than it did when Martin Luther
King was doing his work, but it is definitely still a reality. Some people fear
for their lives, whether they have a pre-existing condition that could preclude
them from healthcare, or because they have the wrong color of skin, the wrong
religion, or the wrong walk of life. We’re in the midst of the biggest refugee
crisis since World War 2. Poverty rates in our own city are too high, and
graduation rates are too low. We might look at any number of the problems in
our city, in our country, in our world, and ask God what we should do about it,
and the answer we get when we “listen to him” is not the one we want to hear.
For getting involved in any of these issues – plus the countless others I
didn’t even mention –
Listening to Jesus can be
paralyzingly scary. He often asks us to do things we are uncomfortable doing.
No one knows this better than Jesus himself, who ended up on a cross for doing
what God told him!
But the grace of our faith is that
the story doesn’t stop there, in fear and death. It doesn’t stop at the cross,
nor with the disciples on the ground overcome with fear. After they fall to the
ground in fear, Jesus comes to them, touches them, and says, “Get up and do not
be afraid.” Get up, and do not be afraid. Do not be afraid, because after this,
we’re gonna walk down this mountain, face the world, see just how bad it can
get… and then I’m gonna show you that I am more powerful than all of that. I’m
gonna show you that death has no power over me, and because of that, you have
nothing to fear.
Fear can be
paralyzing. Death can be devastating. But Christ could not have shown us that
ours is a God of new life without first going through the fear and death. And
so we are empowered to face what pains and uncertainties might come from
listening to Jesus’ voice – as challenging as it is comforting – because we
have been assured that out of this comes transformation: a new and glorious
life that would not have been otherwise possible.
This is God’s Son. Listen to him, and
do not be afraid.
Let us pray…
Glorious God, you have promised to bring
life out of our fear and death. Give us the courage, then, to listen to your
voice, to trust you, and not to be afraid. In the name of the Father and the
Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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