Scripture Reading: Luke 9:28-36
Jesus and his disciples have been together for some time all around the province of Galilee – teaching, preaching, healing, and helping people actually experience the kind of communion and inclusive, forgiving, mutually accepting community that God’s kingdom is. Jesus has even started sending out the disciples to do this themselves in different villages. Things are going really well, until Jesus throws a monkey wrench into their visions with the news that soon he and they will be going to Jerusalem, where he will be taken from them and put to death.
About eight days after Jesus said this, he took Peter, John and James with him up onto a mountain to pray. As he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. Two men – Moses and Elijah, appeared in glorious splendour, talking with him. They spoke about his coming departure in Jerusalem.
Peter and the other two were very sleepy, but they became fully awake and saw his glory and of the two men with him. As the men were leaving Jesus, Peter said, “Master, it’s good for us to be here. Let us put up three shrines – for you, for Moses and for Elijah.” It’s all he could think of saying.
As he spoke, a cloud appeared and enveloped them, and they were very afraid. A voice said from the cloud, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him.”
When the voice had spoken, they found that Jesus was alone. The disciples kept all this to themselves, and told no one at that time – not until later, what they had seen.
Meditation
I’m old enough to remember when you could tell the good guys by what they wore – by how they were attired. They wore their glory on their sleeve – or their head. The hero – the one who would make everything alright, was the one in the white hat. He might even have white-handled six-shooters in his holsters. He probably rode a white horse. And if he also wore a mask, said “Hi ho! Silver!” and made his horse rear up before he rode away after vanquishing the bad guys, and left a silver bullet, you knew you’d just been saved and the world was made good again by The Lone Ranger.
After 9-11 we saw the emergence of a new uniform for heroes – the distinctive hat and heavy coats and boots of firemen like the ones who risked – and some who lost their lives to save others in the Twin Towers. Or the uniforms and badges of police officers, and the distinctive dress and gear of paramedics and other first responders who went in where most would not, to help others get out. When the world is tumbling and crumbling around us, we like to be able to identify the ones who will save us.
Through COVID it’s changed a bit. Now we suddenly are aware of how many front-line workers there really are, that we depend on for the world to be as safe and good as it can be, and as we need it. Front-line medical staff – nurses and doctors, other specialists and even hospital caretakers and cleaning staff. Grocery store staff and pharmicists and pharmacy staff risking exposure to the virus and all its variants with every up-close encounter they have in the course of their shift. Teachers. Garbage collectors. Truck drivers. LCBO staff. Who knows who else we depend on to keep the world turning in the direction we need.
Suddenly there’s no single uniform to look for. Anyone we look at might be a hero. There’s no uniform, and no distinctive badge anymore for those who help keep the world safe, who risk their own well-being for the well-being of others, who put their own rights and their own comfort aside for the sake of others safety and survival.
Jesus had no uniform either, to show others who he was and what he meant to the life of the world.
By the reaction of his three closest companions to the revelation on the mountainside of God’s glory shining upon him and alive within him – their total astonishment and near-speechlessness, I think it’s probably safe to say that Jesus up to that point was not wearing any halo. There was no aura about him. No distinctive clothing. He didn’t walk around in especially clean or freshly pressed clothes. Or fancier sandals than the rest. People would have had no idea just who he really was just by looking at him.
It was what he did and how he did it, that drew people to him. That let them know there was something distinctive at work in him and through him. That made them feel like they were in the presence of something holy and good at work in the world, when they were near him. When he was speaking to them. When he was touching them and having an impact on their life in some way.
And it was up on the mountainside that the three – Peter, James and John, were let in on the secret. That it was actually the glory of God, the actual light and love of God that was at work in him and through him. That was shining out from him day after day and in encounter after encounter in little bits and glimpses and flashes.
And what was that glory? What was it really, when you saw it full-on and whole? Glory for the sake of its own glory – a kind of shock and awe amazement? Blinding light for the sake of its blindingness to bring others to the point if submission and dependence? Or was it something other?
On one hand it was Moses – the hero of God and God’s people who stood up to pharaoh and empire and the power that seeks its own good by ruling over and dominating others. The hero who gave his life to leading the people out and brought to them a vision and a Law of God of another way of being and another way of living of humility before God and the equal well-being of all. A way radically different from the way of empire.
And on the other hand was Elijah – the hero of God and God’s people whose glory was the way he confronted and defeated the people’s worship of Baal, the ultimate prosperity god of self-centred wealth, the ancient and timeless god of self-centred success and greedy materialism that divides society into haves and have-nots, into people of privilege and everyone else. The prophet who risked and ultimately gave his life to help the people regain their vision of, their faith in, and their commitment to a God of justice, equality, and the service of neighbour and stranger and the poor ones around you, before self.
That was the glory that they saw in and all around Jesus on the mountainside. That was the fulfilment of the Law and the Prophets that they saw shining on him and around him. And that, they saw then, was what had been shining through his words and his actions all along down in the valley. In his teaching and preaching about God’s kingdom. In his healing of those who needed it, that cost him something each time and also often pout him at odds with those in power. And in the kind of community he was creating – inviting all kinds of people, especially those unwanted by others, to gather around a table to experience God’s kingdom together in a meal, in conversation, in forgiveness, in mutual acceptance and growth.
If they hadn’t known before – hadn’t been able to quite put their finger on what it was that drew people to Jesus, now they knew. Their eyes were opened. And as they came down the mountainside the next day to pick up where they had left off, with the people still waiting with their confusing mess of needs and problems, and the journey to the cross of self-sacrifice still calling, they could not but look at Jesus with clearer and deeper eyes. To see still no halo, no uniform or badge, no specially flashy clothing. But a particular Spirit and a particular way of giving himself, giving up his own rights and comfort for the well-being of others, that is the real glory of God in the world.
And I wonder, as he and his disciples came back down into the world as it is, did his disciples also see themselves more clearly, through different eyes as well. They had no halo either. They had no distinctive dress. No aura about them. Nothing special to set them apart from others, other than their knowledge now of the Law and the Prophets of God really being at work in the world around then. Their awareness of the light of God having shone upon them. Their experience of amazing communion with God through their relationship with Jesus.
So how could they not see that they too could be, and were also vessels of the real glory of God? That they too in ways big and small, were equipped and called and enabled by God to be embodiments of God’s self-giving love and light for others, as they listened to and followed the way of Jesus.
I think of a woman named Lori, a PSW who was one of Japhia’s palliative care-givers last fall. Japhia had three different PSW’s on 5 different days of the week, and the other two who came in, did what was needed in 10 or 15 minutes, and then were on their way. “Hi ho, Silver! Away!” Lori, though – thankfully usually there for 3 of the 5 days, stayed the whole hour that was allowed. She did what was needed in 10 or 15 minutes, and then she made tea for Japhia and herself, and the two of them chatted in the living room, sharing themselves and their lives with one another for the rest of the hour. They became really good and fast friends, and there was something about those hours they spent together that was holy, life-giving, saving, and healing even in the face of dying.
I’ve learned about a cousin in Winnipeg who only just before Christmas was diagnosed with a recurrence of a cancer, and now is already receiving palliative care at home. Her husband is blogging daily about their journey and how the days go. The progress of the disease and her decline in strength seems fast, but the daily news is full of gratitude for the close and constant support and presence of family, neighbours, other friends and members of their church. It’s not easy to spend time that freely and that often with someone that sick, who makes you face unanswerable questions of life and death, and whose problems you can’t solve and that make you face and embrace your own powerlessness. It’s not surprising that Ron and his wife, Judy see daily signs of God’s love and care, see God’s glory in and through others around them, and truly feel blessed and loved and carried by God in this difficult time.
You never know who the heroes may be. They don’t come with a uniform anymore. They come with a particular Spirit at work within them.
And sometimes you don’t know who the heroic gesture, or the godly act may be for. Whose life it will impact.
There was a church up in Paisley in Bruce County that one Christmas Eve wasn’t sure what to do. The service was all set and ready to go. Except it was snowing heavily, coming in hour after hour on strong winds from over Lake Huron. It wasn’t safe to be out. But there was also no way of letting everyone who might try to get to the service know it was cancelled – anyone who that year just really needed the music and the message and the meaning of Christmas Eve, who really needed the coming of God and the embodiment of God’s love in the world around them.
So, the music director and minister, both of whom lived in town near the church, decided together to venture into the storm and go over to the church to shovel the sidewalk – at least near the doors, as best they could. Then they scoured the church for all the candles they could find, put them in the windows of the church, and lit them. And then they waited there, to receive and welcome and share coffee and hot chocolate and some songs and the story of God’s love embodied in human life, with those – and there were some, who arrived.
I wonder, in the confusion, the messiness, the constant needs of the world around us – around you, how are the real glory of God and the love of God for others embodied in you, and acted out by you?
There’s no halo. No aura. No uniform nor badge. Just a living openness to a particular holy Spirit of at work within you, for the well-being of others.
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