Transfiguration Sunday happens every year. This moment where Jesus is on a mountain top with a few disciples and amazing thing happens. A similar occurrence happens in the first lesson with Moses and they both have something to do with being directly in the presence of God. Right there with God. We hear these stories every year and I am called to speak to this event every year. After a while, you begin to see certain passages come up and your first reaction is “Oh wow, what do I have left to say about this passage or this event?” That is the neat thing about preaching and the gospel though. Each year the Holy Spirit leads you to something new. Sometimes the past informs the new and you get to see thoughts or ideas evolve over time, or see the things you learned from others deepen their roots, grow and bear more fruit. Transfiguration Sunday is definitely one of those times for me. I remember back in college. I was helping to chaperone a confirmation retreat at a Lutheran Camp in the mountains of North Carolina. We had a service before we packed up and it was there where for the first time in my life I heard how the transfiguration had anything to do with my life. Then while I was in seminary, and coincidentally back at that same camp for a pastor’s retreat, the Bishop, Mark Menees stood up and gave one of the simplest, but for me, one of the most powerful illustrations I’ve ever heard or seen. It has been the foundation of my understanding of the theology of the cross and our mission as christians in this world. This illustration is never far from my mind. Having those two moments at that place called Lutheridge further cemented an understanding, at least for me, of the transfiguration. Fast forward a little to the time where I was preparing sermons and preaching for transfiguration. Certain things always seem to get stuck in my brain, whether they make sense to any other sermon writer on the planet or not. The Battle Hymn of the Republic, with a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me, The Transformers, the toys of my childhood, now a mega movie franchise, where there is more than meets the eye, and lastly the band R.E.M. and their song Shiney, Happy People. Mix all of these things together and you get a glimpse of my internal visuals for transfiguration day and the gospel passage. You start sharing some of these with your friends in ministry and your thinking that you’re sort of done and tapped out for transfiguration ideas, and that’s when the Holy Spirit speaks up. I tell Reg and Bill about how I always think of Shiney, Happy People. So Bill looks up the song and shares an interesting wikipedia trivia fact. Did you know that Shiney, Happy People was supposed to be the theme song for the sitcom “Friends”? But the show people felt that something was just not right with that song and what it was saying for the show. It’s also interesting that the guys in REM are not fans of their own song for pretty much the same reason, it doesn’t feel right, it’s not in line with their experiences with life. I’ve considered the song in that way when thinking about those disciples that get to experience a time of exciting discontinuity with their daily experience. “Shiny happy people laughing, Meet me in the crowd, people, people, Throw your love around, love me, love me. Take it into town,happy, happy. Put it in the ground where the flowers grow. Gold and silver shine. Shiny happy people holding hands.” So the folks from friends wrote some lyrics and asked the Rembrandts to put it to music and perform it, which ended up getting them 5 million dollars in royalties for use on the show. The new song and lyric choice in contrast to Shiney brought a lot of my life and theology together, specifically for transfiguration, but more importantly for making sense of my life and faith journey so far in a way that I could share it a little better. So here goes. When Pastor Agner, my pastor growing up and the leader of the confirmation retreat spoke that Sunday morning, he likened it to our time away on the mountain at Lutheridge and then like the disciples having to return to the valley where they run right back into life and human need. He told us about how those experiences empowered us to serve in the valley. It was also at Lutheridge that I had one of the best summers of my life. I got to serve as a camp counselor. It was an opportunity filled with fun, spirituality, sharing, improved physical health, achievement, recognition, self-esteem and team work, a literal mountain top experience. The last week of camp I was called to the director/ chaplains office and told that my college roommate had died from a car accident. Talk about going down the hill quickly. There is no making sense of stuff like that. People will try and make sense of it for you and say all sorts of things trying to defend God or make it seem like a good thing. It’s a lot like armchair quarterbacking. There’s no actual investment in your life or friendship, but what I think is an attempt to assure themselves. I think that before, I was internally there. I had sort of coped with my brother’s death years before in that way, finding all the ways it was a good thing and trying as hard as I could to just think of heaven and all. This death though. The second person I had slept in the same room with? God never gives you more than you can handle? Cosmic test? Something broke and I became more personally self-destructive and lost and a large part of my identity was in deep crisis. Some years later, back to Lutheridge and what seemed like an impromptu children’s sermon from the Bishop to a bunch of pastors. On the white board he drew a valley with two sides. There was a stick figure on one side and a crown on the other. He talked about a preoccupation with heaven and reward and how the stick person was trying to not look down and build a feeble bridge over to the other side and just keeping their eyes on the prize. Then something big hits their life, the bridge crumbles and they plummet to the valley. The valley’s floor is mud, mire and the distasteful things we can imagine. The valley of the shadow of death. But there’s good news there. That is where the cross of Christ stands. The presence of Jesus and those make their lives by the cross in love and service to those covered in the muck of despair. I had fallen through and it was devastating. There was no magical fix there, that was all bridge stuff, this was an introduction to seeing things as they are, not a cosmic test of my character but bad, unfair stuff just happening. Through others though, through my journey since, I have seen Jesus in the love and support of others. Walking through the pain and not avoiding it. I was no longer alone. It’s a hard journey down here slogging through all the bad things and walking with others enduring their worst times. Walking with Christ in the way of the cross and with those who serve there, I find that my pain is not minimized, trivialized, romanticized or rationalized. In the way of the cross I have been freed from the euphemism treadmill and I can acknowledge my hurt for what it is or as Luther put it, not calling evil good, but calling a thing what it is. At the cross we do not have to wear the mask of Shiney, Happy People. Jesus said, “No greater love does a person have than to lay down their life for a friend.” At the cross is where we find our friends, a savior that walked, laughed, cried, suffered and died with us and like us, and those that walk in the valley and take up their cross and share our burdens , and not living under the burden of having to be shiny and happy. The song didn’t fit, so they wrote a new one. They were feeling the same disconnection I felt. The new song? It really should be in our hymnal. It’s the song of the valley, an anthem until Christ leads us up from the valley to God’s eternal kingdom where the shine and happiness won’t be a mask but a reality. Until then we can dance and rejoice in the waters of our baptism (youtube the show intro) and sing. “So no one told you life was gonna be this way. Your job’s a joke, you’re broke Your love life’s DOA. It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear. When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month Or even your year, but I’ll be there for you (When the rain starts to pour) I’ll be there for you (Like I’ve been there before) I’ll be there for you (‘Cause you’re there for me too) You’re still in bed at ten And work began at eight You’ve burned your breakfast So far, things are going great Your mother warned you there’d be days like these But she didn’t tell you when the world has brought You down to your knees that I’ll be there for you No one could ever know me No one could ever see me Seems you’re the only one who knows What it’s like to be me Someone to face the day with Make it through all the rest with Someone I’ll always laugh with Even at my worst, I’m best with you. That’s the promise of the cross, the promise of Christ, our friend and our call to love one another in the same way.
Holy God, mighty and immortal, you are beyond our knowing, yet we see your glory in the face of Jesus Christ. Transform us into the likeness of your Son, who renewed our humanity so that we may share in his divinity, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
The conversation about Jesus’ suffering and death is enclosed in a dazzling foreshadowing of the resurrection. God affirms Jesus’ identity, the disciples are stunned speechless, and Jesus resumes his mission with a demonstration of his power over evil. Luke 9 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen. On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. And all were astounded at the greatness of God.
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