Sermon preached February 10, 2013
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
Luke 9:28-36
Last Sunday after the Epiphany
Luke 9:28-36
There is an ad spot that runs
regularly on MSNBC in which one of their program hosts, Ed Schultz says, “my
dad used to tell me you’re going to learn a heck of a lot more listening than
you are talking; some of that got through to me.”[1] I think this ad appeals to me so much because
it rings true in my own experience. When
I remember, when I make a conscious effort, I am actually a very good
listener. But, in some
circumstances - when I have a strong
opinion, when I am frustrated by what I am hearing, when I am distracted by
other things in my head – then my ability to listen is hindered. Perhaps some of you experience the same
thing.
It might seem odd to be talking
about “listening” on a Sunday when our Scripture describes a scene with amazing
visual effects. In the gospel for today, we find Jesus, Peter, John and James
at the top of a mountain. None of the
gospels identify this mountain and scholars do not agree on its location. Since the 3rd century, some
Christians – including Origen – assumed it was Mount Tabor, today the site of
one of many churches of the Transfiguration.
Others suggest that it is more likely that it was a mountain near
Caesarea-Philippi given the recent movement of the disciples (as least as
described by Matthew’s Gospel). Given
this lack of consensus and the gospel writers’ seeming disinterest in such a
detail, I like to imagine it as Rib Mountain – a big hill really – located in
my hometown of Wausau, Wisconsin. From
the top of this mountain one can look out for miles and today see the smoke
rising from the paper mills as far south as Brokaw, the neat rows of farmers’ crops
growing in the summertime, the outline of some of my favorite local golf
courses, and, of course, as I always like to point out to friends who are
visiting for the first time – look over there – that’s my elementary school –
and over here – that’s where I went to high school. All of these landmarks of importance in my
life come into view at the top of Rib Mountain.
So, wherever the disciples and Jesus are standing, I imagine that they
too can see all the places they have been from a perspective that is just
magnificent. Indeed, the location of the
Transfiguration had to have provided a beautiful view.
And, then, of course the
Transfiguration itself – Jesus’ face changes, his clothes become dazzling
white, Moses and Elijah appear next to him, and, the next thing you know, is
that the whole scene – Moses, Elijah, Jesus, Peter, John, James, and the
mountaintop itself – is engulfed by a great cloud. Truly an amazing sight. Such an amazing sight, in fact, that we run
the risk of missing the words. Listen. Moses and Elijah and Jesus “appeared in glory
and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at
Jerusalem.” Apparently we are not the
only ones who risk missing the dialogue; because the very next verse in the
gospel says that “Peter and his companion were weighed down with sleep; but
since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with
him.” No mention of their hearing the
important conversation taking place.
And, Peter’s next action makes it clear that they have not heard – or,
if hearing, that they have not understood – for Peter offers to make three
dwelling places there on the mountaintop, one each for Jesus, Elijah, and
Moses. It is not clear what purpose these
dwelling places would serve – to capture for eternity this glorious moment? –
to create a monument to these great men?
But, it becomes immediately clear that Peter has it all wrong because
even before he can complete his thought, they are engulfed in the cloud and
God’s voice declares, “'This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!'. . . . And
they kept silent . . .”
Listen – not see – listen. This Last Sunday after the Epiphany marks a
turning point in our liturgical year. For the past several weeks we have engaged our
sight as we have witnessed the birth of Christ, his baptism in the river
Jordan, and the turning of water into wine.
Joan Chittister, a Benedictine Sister, describes the Sundays after the
Epiphany as opportunities to pause and “to take it all in” – and, ultimately,
“to become what we see in Jesus.”[2] And, today, on this last Sunday, we see the
glorious transfiguration and are called to turn our attention to listening, to
seeking deep meaning, to a 40 day fast in the wilderness of our faith, a fast
which will begin this Wednesday as we gather for the imposition of ashes and a
reminder of our utter reliance on God to lead us.
Scott Hoezee, Director of the
Center for Excellence in Preaching at Calvin Theological Seminary, offers this
reflection on today’s text:
“. . . how can it be, following on one
of the most dazzling visual spectacles that ever took place on this planet,
that the bottom line from God the Father is ‘Listen to him.’ Listen? Listen,
and not ‘Look’? Why go through all this razzle-dazzle, bright-as-lightning
stuff if the whole incident ends up being more about ears than eyes?
And,” he continues,
“if it seems odd to hear God the Father
follow up this visual display with advice that has to do with listening and not
looking, maybe that’s because we, too, are often overly fixated on outward fame
and power and glory as the world defines all those things and maybe that gets
in the way of our truly listening to what Jesus says about humility and
sacrifice and being servants of the
lowest of the low in our societies yet today.”
Jesus is transfigured on the mountaintop and the disciples –
then and now – are invited to be transformed.
To turn away from visions – whether of God or of humanity – and turn toward
listening.
Traditionally, the 40 days of Lent,
have been a time when individuals “give-up” something in order to focus more
clearly on God. The purpose of the
“giving-up”, however, often becomes lost.
We must remember that we are not invited to “give up” for the sake of
“giving-up.” For this reason, a more
recent movement has emerged, in which people – rather than giving up – take
something on during Lent – silent meditation, community service work, Scripture
reading, tithing, to name just a few.
But, whether we choose to give something up or take something on the
goal is the same: to free ourselves from selfish wants and desires and return to
God. The baptismal covenant invites us
to do the same when it asks, “Will you persevere in resisting evil, and
whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?”[3]
According to the Center for
Internal Change, individuals “screen out or change the intended purpose of what
they hear in over 70% of all communications.”[4] They go on to describe some specific ways of
improving our listening ability. Imagine if as a community we covenanted this
Lenten season to take on the practice of listening. Imagine how our world might
change if we listened so carefully to the culture around us that when we share
the good news of Christ outside our doors, we can do so through the windows of
communication that have been developed from the outside in. Imagine how our community might change if we
listened carefully in order to figure out what is the spirit of what is being
said, getting the whole picture without allowing our own judgments and emotions
to get in the way. Imagine how our
hearts might be changed if we listened in such a way that people could know
they are being cared for as they tell us their feelings and their thoughts.
Imagine.
“'This is my Son, my Chosen; listen
to him!'. . . . And they kept silent . . .”
[1] Ed
Schultz, “Listen,” Lean Forward ad
campaign on MSNBC available online at http://video.msnbc.msn.com,
accessed February 8, 2013.
[2]
Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year: The
Spiraling Adventure of the Spiritual Life, (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, Inc.,
2009), p. 97, 98.
[3]
BCP 304.
[4]
“Personal Listening Profile – On Line Version,” Center for Internal Change, accessed online at http://www.internalchange.com on
February 8, 2013.
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