Epiphany
Transcribed from the sermon preached February 22, 2009 The
Reverend Max Lynn, Pastor 2727 College Avenue, Berkeley, CA 94705 Scripture
Readings: Mark 9:2-10, 2Kings 2:1-14
So, after doing four weeks on the
first chapter of
Mark, our lectionary jumps forward to chapter nine.
I think this is because the seasons of Advent and
Christmas is
followed by the season of Epiphany, which begins with the baptism of
Jesus and
ends with the transfiguration. In
the
story today, Jesus is transfigured, the divinity of Jesus shines forth
from his
humanity here in this world. This
week,
beginning with Ash Wednesday, we move from the season of Epiphany to
the season
of Lent, the time of repentance and preparation as we approach the
crucifixion. An Epiphany means to make known, it
is an “aha!
Moment”. In Mark,
Jesus is trying to
keep his full identity quiet but during both the baptism and
transfiguration
the heavens open up and God identifies Jesus as his son. Our story of Elijah and
Elisha is another
transfiguration story, which reminds us of Moses on Mt. Sinai and then
at the
Red Sea. There are
many stories of
transfiguration. The Irish call such moments in time and space “thin
places,”
places where the veil between this world and the next is so sheer that
it is
easy to step through. (B.B.Taylor) These thin places may be places, or
they may be
people or events. For
instance, I would
contend that Sedona AZ is, as the Native Americans and New Agers say, a
special
spiritual place. A
temple or church
with great spiritual and historical power can also be such a place. Or, we may witness a
transfiguration when thousands
of hours of disciplined practice move an artist from repetition to
creation:
that moment in jazz when even mistakes become part of the perfection.
While on
the snow trip we watched Norman Maclean’s A
River Run’s Through It.
There is a
moment when Paul, the Brad Pitt character moves from fisherman to
artist with
his fly-fishing. His
father and brother
see him become one with the river; grace takes discipline to the level
of
divine perfection, and it shines.
And
while we are at it, the love between two mutually committed human
beings, where
trust merges with sensuality so that two ugly ducklings become the most
beautiful dancers in the world; these can be transfigurations, thin
places,
thin moments. Elizabeth
Barrett
Browning writes: Earth’s crammed with heaven We know from previous weeks that
Mark’s line
between the spirit world and this world is very thin indeed, with
demons and
the Holy Spirit popping up all over the place.
And it seems as people hang out with Jesus, the
spirit world and our
world start to merge, the dichotomy, the division is smashed, the veil
torn in
two. But until the
resurrection it is a
secret vision, a messianic vision. Like Neo, the messianic character in
the
Matrix, it is not good that the news of his identity is spread freely. But back to Mark: What precedes
this
transfiguration? There
is more feeding
the hungry and curing the sick; then Jesus asks, “who do you say that I
am,”
and Peter declares to Jesus, “You are the Messiah.”
Jesus, says Mark, sternly ordered them not to tell
anyone about
him until the resurrection solidifies and spreads divine power. Then he began to teach them that
the son of man must
undergo suffering, even to the point of death, and that after three
days he
would rise again. Peter
objects to such
an unthinkable outcome. But Jesus reaffirms his intentions,
spotting those
demons again, saying “Get behind me, Satan”, teaching the crowd of
disciples:
If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves, take up
their
cross and follow me. For
the one who
would save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for
my sake
and the sake of the gospel will save it.
For what will it profit a person to gain the whole
world but lose his
soul? This remains one example of leadership and divinity: selfish and
arrogant, violent and exclusive? Or does this Jesus, who sees his life
and all
life merged with the greater purpose of love, peace and justice – is he
onto
something? Does this love and sacrifice thin out the line separating us
from
God? So this is the set-up for the
transfiguration scene
on the mountain. The
pieces are falling
into place for the disciples, dumb as they are, and then it seems to
just click
for them; they see the light that has already been shining from Jesus
face. And there appeared to them Elijah
and Moses, who
were talking with Jesus. Now
here is a
tough question: How did they know it was Elijah and Moses? If the prophets lived
hundreds of years
before, and there were no cameras or portraits, how did they know what
Elijah
and Moses looked like? Perhaps Jesus told them, but given
the desire to
keep things secret, this seems unlikely.
The Jesus of John would name drop like that but not
Mark’s Jesus. My answer: I don’t know, but I can
take a couple of
educated guesses. I
suspect it is
collective unconscious. In
such a
context, who the heck else could it be?
Jesus has spent his whole life studying the Torah
and the Prophets.
Moses and Elijah each had been lifted up in his own time to heaven. As the ministry of Jesus
hits its groove, as
his power and life drive out demons, heal the sick and show the power
of
service and sacrifice in love, he reminds us of Moses and Elijah; but
Jesus is
his own artist, painting a masterful living portrait of the son of God. His very power, beautiful
as it is, seems to
evoke the praise of saints and prophets and of the Divine Creator
Godself. But his power is also recognizable
and
contagious. Peter,
the disciples and us
get to play the Elisha role of the faithful follower who seeks a
blessing, a
passing of the mantel, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. And there is some
indication that blessing
is tied to faithfulness. Each
time
Elijah moves on, Elisha, with faithfulness like Ruth, insists on
accompanying
him: “As the Lord lives, and you yourself live, I will not leave you.” And that is definitely part of
being a member of the
Church: We commit to one another and to God that we will accompany one
another
through sickness and health, for richer for poorer, forever and ever. We will walk together in
the wake of Moses,
Ruth, Elijah and Jesus. In
our
relations with one another, with the world, we commit to live and love
and
honor God as they did. By God’s grace, of course. Peter is a bit goofy, an
interesting character. Peter
tends to think out loud. There
are those who want to think things out
carefully before they say something.
Peter is one of those who speak when they are
nervous. He is the
guy in class who always shoots out
questions and answers, some dumb but some that reveal greater depth
behind the
goofiness. But Peter, we know, does fail to
keep his commitment
to Jesus; he doesn’t live up to the Elisha legacy.
He winds up denying Christ three times. And isn’t that us too.
Who among us hasn’t felt the pain and guilt of
letting someone down, of
not being there when the going gets tough?
But that is the church too: we are
a group of forgiven forgivers, a
group of people who, despite our demons desire to keep us out of the
kingdom of
God, we are loved by Jesus forever, even if his support of us leads to
his
death. The other thing we are saying when we join a church: we affirm
our
desire to follow and serve God, but also by grace. |