SERMON ON LUKE 9:28-36 - THE FEAST OF THE TRANSFIGURATION - FR. TONY MOON, SAINT AUGUSTINE OF CANTERBURY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, OKLAHOMA CITY, OKLAHOMA

Sunday, February 27, 2022
Feast of the Transfiguration
Luke 9:28-36
 
We all evolve. Babies become toddlers. Toddlers become preschoolers. Pre-schoolers become children, and children become adolescents. Adolescents become adults. And the changes don’t stop there. Early adulthood, middle adulthood, old age: all are marked by changes and evolution. As we encounter these “required” patterns of evolving, we each engage our unique changes, too. Sometimes, bankers become artists; managers become salespeople; carpenters become actors; and hairstylists become realtors. Young men and women often become dads and moms. Dads and moms become grandparents, and maybe great-grandparents. It seems that God has blessed us with ever evolving change and wonder at every turn. We spend our childhood dreaming of what we can become when we get older. And often, most of us continue that dreaming into our adult years—some of us are ever evolving in different ways. This reminds me of a wise little boy I read about, who, when asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, simply replied, “Kind.”[1]
 
In today’s Gospel lesson, we hear of Jesus encountering a great change. Perhaps this was part of Jesus’ own evolutionary path. Jesus takes his close friends and followers, Peter and the brothers, James and John, with him up a mountain. There, while praying, Jesus’ face becomes illumined, and his clothes turn brilliant white. Jesus’ companions see this, and they see representations of the law and the prophets flanking Jesus, the law-giver, Moses, and the prophet, Elijah, speaking with Jesus. In this transfiguration, it’s as though Jesus had shifted from his physical presence—his human being—into his Godly being—an energetic being, one of light and energy. Perhaps we can’t really imagine the fear-inducing thrill of seeing this transfiguration, but we completely understand when Peter approaches Jesus, wanting to stay in that moment, suggesting that they build tents to stay at this sacred site. While Peter is petitioning Jesus, we are told that a cloud came over them, engulfing them, and they were terrified as they entered that cloud. It is then that God speaks to all, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” We know that Jesus rejects the idea of staying put, Jesus rejects the idea of remaining static in that moment—even if that were possible, and moves them on ahead, pushes them to evolve as his followers, pushes them not to remain static in some transfixed state, but instead pushes them to be about his mission of healing, preaching and teaching. Jesus pushes his followers to be about the work of bringing the people of the earth closer to living in God’s Kingdom here on earth.
 
I do not know for sure, and I doubt that anyone can be sure what this event of the transfiguration did to Jesus or for Jesus. But I think we can imagine that it caused an even greater solidification of Jesus’ mission and focus within him—likely similar to when he was baptized and we also heard God’s voice acknowledging Jesus. As observers, it undoubtedly had a profound effect on Peter, James and John. Imagine, if you or I were there, following the Jesus we love, and we witnessed something so spectacular, so miraculous as this transfiguration event, I’m sure this would have profoundly affected us. It would undoubtedly make me even more certain that Jesus was God’s chosen, the Messiah, and make me certain that my following Jesus was the most on-track, on-purpose, the most important thing I ever had done or ever could do in my life. Wouldn’t you agree that if you and I were there together, witnessing this miraculous occurrence, that you would feel the same way? …that your following Jesus was the most on-track, on-purpose thing—the most important thing you’d ever done or ever could hope to do with your life? It seems like a most reasonable assumption.
 
I think that, like Peter, we’d also have surely pressed Jesus to let us remain there with him, build little homes there for us, so the miracle of his transfiguring could be relived in our memories every day for the rest of our lives. And, also, without a doubt, I’m sure you will agree, that Jesus would reject our idea and press us forward to do ministry rather than bask in his glory—to do ministry that would benefit untold numbers and spread God’s Kingdom in this organic and growing way, changing lives, changing the world. It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to see how these two diverging paths—one static, one evolving—would play out.
 
But we weren’t there. We didn’t witness this first-hand, but we do witness this in a different way. We witness the transfiguration through the eyes of the Gospel writers, through our reading and through our God-given imaginations; we witness along with and through millions of devoted Christians down through the ages. If the transfiguration were the only thing unusual that ever happened with Jesus, we might dismiss it. But we include the transfiguration in with so many other miracle stories from Jesus’ life. And we have faith that Jesus is God’s own, is God, is divine and completely capable of shifting and evolving in the way we read about today.
 
I love the “let’s build tiny houses here!” aspect of this story. A story of unearthliness is transformed into a very human story with this simple request. But Jesus started a work here on earth, to bring people to God, to introduce a way of living in God that completely contradicted the way of living in domination and fear. Jesus introduced a way of being in peace and love; a way that honored all people, all people! This was a work that needed to be continued. This work that Jesus began is one that needs to be evolved into works even beyond what Jesus initiated.
 
You and I will likely never transfigure in the same way that Jesus did—but we can pick up Jesus’ work, become his body here on earth, and transfigure the Body of Christ into the next phase. We can continue and prosper his work. I did not coin the term, but I call this the “Christ Project.” This Project does the work of including and honoring, forgiving and loving—of loving God, loving others and loving ourselves, just as Jesus commanded. This work includes serving. It does not require a theology degree—it’s pretty simple really. And in the process, greatness in the eyes of our Lord can be achieved. As the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King said, “Everybody can be great...because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”
 
The Christ Project is on-going and hopefully evolving. Of course, as with any project, it can succeed or it can fail. My deepest hope for humanity is that the Christ Project succeeds—and we must realize that its success is not guaranteed by God. The success of Christ’s work here on earth, the work of love overcoming hatred in all its forms is not guaranteed by God because God gave us freewill to succeed or fail in everything we do. I know that God will support and encourage us in this work, but God will not force us to take it on. Even in this phenomenally important work of loving, God remains gentle and patient, even if failure of the Christ Project would be cataclysmically devastating for the people of the world. The success of Christ’s project of bringing heaven to earth depends on us, on Christ’s followers to bring Jesus’ vision, God’s vision for the world into being. And while theology degrees are not required, being able to articulate our faith, to say what we believe, to know the life of Christ and what he taught is important. Knowing these things can give us a good foundation for furthering God’s Kingdom, for clearly understanding and living our mission, helping us grow in wisdom, compassion and love. If some of this seems mysterious or seems to fall into the category of “things I missed in Sunday School” let me encourage you to avail yourselves to Sunday morning or Wednesday noon classes, or the Wednesday evening Lenten Series that is coming up.
 
I have a brief story to relate to you. I want to tell you this story because it has to do with gently evolving a secular community in ways of kindness. Recently, I completed a seven week, two-evening a week basic welding course given at one of the vo-tech centers in Oklahoma City. There were a dozen students to begin with, and not surprisingly, I was the oldest. Most were guys in their late 20’s to mid-30’s. They didn’t interact a lot—and I remember being that age, and I didn’t interact a lot at that age, either. I hadn’t been in a completely non-church group like this for a long time, and I was surprised to come to understand how steeped I am in my faith culture. For example, the first evening was only classroom work about safety—that’s a given. The second evening we moved from the classroom out into the shop. When the instructor said, “OK, let all go out to the shop,” the thought that literally crossed my mind was, “aren’t we going to pray first?” Then, I remembered where I was, and proceeded out to the shop with only a silent prayer.
 
Like I said, the guys didn’t interact much. And, I wasn’t trying to “do” anything with them or to them, but my natural inclination was to interact—to call guys by name; to ask them how their day was going. This started to unthaw things. Soon, other guys were saying hello, remembering each other’s names and interacting. When I went to the tool cabinet, I’d bring tools back for others as well as for myself. When we were sharing tools, I’d step back and let the guy behind me go first. When clean-up time came at the end of the evening, I’d sweep out my welding booth, maybe sweep out the booth next to mine, and then clean up some of our shared areas. Soon, these guys were showing others similar kindnesses, too—fetching tools for others, and cleaning others’ spaces at the end of the night.
 
For one of the welding practices, we had to first buff down two pieces of metal. This was a labor-intensive process. My first piece seemed to be taking too long to clean, and about the time I was finishing up that first piece and getting ready to start on the second one, one of the guys dropped an already cleaned up second piece by for me. This was a kindness that surprised me! After it dawned on me that my little acts of kindness seemed to be making a difference, I began observing. It was so interesting to see how I seemed to be making a difference in this little microcosm of humanity, in how we interacted, honoring and caring for each other.
 
I’m not telling you this as a way to point to myself, but I do think the lesson here is important and worth sharing. We have the power to influence others, to transform others, to transfigure work spaces—without any knowledge of the others’ politics or personal affiliations, and without any heroic acts. We can shift things in a positive direction with the faith that we live and breathe, faith that seems to reside so dearly and closely in our hearts that maybe it goes unnoticed until we stop and recognize it.
 
And so, what if we broadened our scope from this microcosm of the welding shop, to other areas in our lives, to include work, or school, or shops and clubs; to include our families? What if we participated in the Christ Project by giving others an example of Jesus? What if in this way, we preached the Gospel, as St. Francis would say, only using words when we have to? I did not give myself an assessment of my Christian aptitude or community-building skills before I stepped into that welding shop. All I needed was there. All you need to begin transforming the world around you is likely within you, and if you feel that it isn’t, it’s definitely within your grasp. Jesus didn’t make it hard.
 
You know, I also have to stop and think that in the process of performing these simple acts, that with God’s help I not only set the stage for transformation, but God also transformed something in me: I now see myself differently in that I can be more influential than I’d ever given myself credit for being.
 
Really… think about it; act on it… it is not beyond my imagination or the realm of possibility, that as we infect other individuals with Christ’s love, as we influence a microcosm of family, workplace, school, club, whatever—those individuals from that small gathering will interact and influence untold others. It’s like yeast growing bread, that we can grow the world in Christ’s image—causing the Christ Project to succeed, transfiguring the world from the sad state of fear and domination that we witness today, into the garden where we meet our beloved, God’s Chosen… listen to him!            
Amen.

~Fr. Tony Moon, Saint Augustine of Canterbury Episcopal Church, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
[1] Mackesy, C. (2019) The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. Harper Collins, NY.