Sermon: Transfiguration of Our Lord, Last Sunday after Epiphany, Matthew 17:1-9, February 19, 2023Faith-La Fe Lutheran Church, Pastor Jonathan Linman

Sermon: Transfiguration of Our Lord, Last Sunday after Epiphany,

Matthew 17:1-9, February 19, 2023

Faith-La Fe Lutheran Church, Pastor Jonathan Linman

Here’s a question for you: when was the last time you had a theophany? No, theophany is not a medical procedure. A theophany is a visible manifestation of God to humanity. In more common terms, it’s a mountaintop experience of a religious sort.

So, when was the last time you had a mountaintop experience? That is, one of those unforgettable, sometimes once in a lifetime experience that changes everything for you? Sometimes such experiences are very holy. So, our spiritual mountaintop experiences can be akin to theophanies, especially when they involve our senses, particularly our vision.

That’s what Moses had, an encounter with the glory of God that overtook his senses – literally on the mountain as recorded in today’s first reading from Exodus. In response to the command of the Lord, “Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. The glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day God called to Moses out of the cloud.” (Exodus 24:15-16) And then the Lord gave the commandments to Moses which completely reordered the life and religion of the people of Israel.

And Peter, James and John experienced a theophany when Jesus led them up the mountain as Jesus was transfigured before their eyes. “Jesus was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light.” Then Moses and Elijah appeared and engaged in conversation with Jesus. Then “suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him!’” (cf. Matthew 17:2-5)

So, Peter, James and John – what was their reaction to this experience? They fell to the ground. Or in more colloquial terms that actually express the sense of the biblical Greek – they took a face plant. They fell on their faces. And they were overcome with fear. They were vehemently afraid, a natural reaction to such a radically holy experience.

Fear is a natural response to a lot that is overwhelming in one way or another. One of the things that I love about Phoenix is its proximity to the genuine wilds of nature. Literally on my doorstep is the Phoenix Mountain Preserve and Dreamy Draw Recreation Area.

Part of the fascination is that I am struck with some fear and trepidation when I walk on the nature trails near where I live: the hot sun in season, the high temperatures, the exposures with no shade, no place to take refuge for a respite, the possibility of encountering rattle snakes and other forms of wildlife, the specter of not having enough water even on a brief hike – all of this makes for some fear of nature, and it reveals that I am not in control. Nature is bigger than I am and it can easily be overwhelming. Nature tends to be more tame back East….

Yes, there are all sorts of fears that captivate us and sometimes provoke us to fall to the ground overcome with our fear: the instability and fragility of our economic systems and the specter of a crash where we lose it all; medical expenses that can put us under; losing our job in an age when employees are seen as expendable; fear of gun violence in public spaces which should be free of such terror like college campuses and schools; fear of climate change – will we soon run out of sufficient supplies water for our lifestyle here in Phoenix? The fear of becoming ill and incapacitated; the fear of death. And on the list can go. You have your own list of things which cause you trepidation and can sometimes overwhelm you.

That’s the burden of our human predicament. But, of course, there’s good news amidst our mortal bad news. That’s why we come here week after week. And the good news centers on a remarkable feature in today’s Transfiguration gospel that I’ve always overlooked before.  In response to the disciples’ face plant having become overcome by fear, Matthew says that “Jesus came and touched them.” Jesus touched them. In all of the years of preaching on this passage and leading bible studies about it, for some reason I have never noticed the part about Jesus touching them.

Loving touch by a trusted other is so central to healthy human experience. Of course, there are malevolent forms of touch that cross boundaries and become abusive, forms of touch that don’t give life, but rob us of life and well-being. But then there’s loving touch – so primal, so basic to what it is to be a healthy, well-adjusted human being. And such loving touch by a trusted other can make all the difference in our lives, especially for bringing us out of our fear. It's the primal love of the parent to the child whose touch wordlessly communicates, “everything’s going to be OK.”

That’s what Jesus’ touching the disciples communicated. Most all of the examples of Jesus touching others recorded in the gospels have to do with Jesus touching others to heal them. Well, in the case of our story for today, Jesus’ touching the disciples heals them, as it were, of their fear. “Get up and do not be afraid,” Jesus said to them. “And when they raised their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.”

All of the frightening, overshadowing clouds had disappeared, along with the fearsome voice from on high. All they saw looking up when getting up was the loving presence of their teacher, Jesus. It’s a beautiful moment indeed!

Jesus’ touch recorded here in Matthew contrasts with the glory of God revealed to Moses in Exodus. In the story in Exodus, it’s God’s glory, an indirect experience of God, and it was up there, out there, transcendent and remote. In contrast, in Matthew, the disciples are on the ground and Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, stoops to our level with these words, “Get up and do not be afraid.” This is gospel! This is good news. This is the radical immanence of God, the nearness of God, the intimacy of God, in contrast to the radical transcendence of God’s glory in the presence of Moses.

Lest you think that theophanies like that at the Transfiguration ended with biblical times, and we don’t have such experiences anymore, think again. Manifestations of the sacred, of God, are more common than you might think. We all have versions of holy mountaintop experiences that captivate our senses, that touch us.

Some of your mountaintop experiences may well have been on literal mountaintops out in nature. Or special events in your life – getting married, the birth of your children. All very visceral, embodied, holy. Think about it! Some such theophanies may be as simple, but as profound as a beautiful sunset that overwhelms our senses.

Then there are the theophanies here in this place. The waters of baptism can cast a dazzling light – especially here where our font is in fact back lit and a light shines up through the water! Here in this place, at every baptism, we hear again the voice from heaven: you are my child the beloved with whom I am well pleased! And Jesus touches us with that holy water and with the holy word, and lifts us up out of those waters transformed. “Get up and don’t be afraid,” he says to us. And suddenly we are children of God, members of Christ’s body, the church, Jesus’ way of being incarnate today.

Likewise, when we break open the word, in preaching and teaching and holy conversation, the light of Christ shines forth and we hear again Moses and Elijah and the other greats of scripture holding forth as the bible’s stories reveal Christ to us anew. Encounters with the holy word also transform us.

When I break the bread at Communion, the light of Christ shines forth, and Jesus himself touches us as we take the bread and the wine to our lips. And in this simple meal we are transformed and become the body of Christ as the church to be broken for the sake of the world.

Every time we assemble on a Sunday there are theophanies, epiphanies, our sense of the world transfigured, our lives transformed and we are given the gift of faith to see with new eyes the things of God and to hear with new ears the message of God’s radical love in Christ. So, in a sense, every Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday!

I believe that worship last weekend at Faith-La Fe involved a special theophany when what we celebrated in here contrasted so sharply with the angry harangue we heard via bullhorn outdoors with the protesters who objected to our proclamation of the radical extent of God’s love to include all of God’s people. Theophanies have a way of bringing it all together in clarity. At Jesus’ Transfiguration we see Jesus clearly as the servant who would suffer and die, but be raised from the dead. Last Sunday at Faith, our commitments to showing God’s radical love for all became apparent, paradoxically, via the condemnations of our affirmations by the protesters. Wow. It was quite something indeed, a memorable revelation of who we are as a community in Christ.

And unlike Peter, James and John at the time of Jesus’ Transfiguration, we Easter people are free to tell everyone about our holy, life transforming experiences. Indeed, after the resurrection and the Day of Pentecost, when the theophany of the Transfiguration made greatest sense in hindsight, Peter’s tongue was unleashed to speak about the vision to the many he addressed. We hear his own words in today’s second reading when Peter later recounted Jesus’ mountaintop transfiguration: “We had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For Jesus received honor and glory from God, the Father, when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with Jesus on the holy mountain. So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed.” (2 Peter 1:16b-19)

Thus, on the other side of our theophanies, our tongues are likewise released in proclamation as our holy experiences confirm our faith, our belief, our trust in God.

And we proclaim God’s mighty acts also with the works of our hands in loving, sacred, healthy touch when we hug and embrace those whom many find unhuggable, unlovable. And when we lend a helping hand – God’s work, our hands – in loving touch in our ministries of service, we may contribute to others having their own theophanies, their own experiences of God’s loving glory. And this until the whole world shines with the divine light of Christ and all creation is transfigured, transformed.

Oh, let is be so, Lord Jesus, joyous light of glory, let it be so. Amen.