Day 1539 - Blinded by the Light

An edited version of a sermon given at First Presbyterian Church, February 26, 2017, Spring City, TN.

Exodus 24: 12-18

Isaiah 6:1-13

Luke 9:28-45

Luke describes what to a Jewish listener is an experience with the Divine. You can convince yourself of this by reading the Exodus passage.

Even without that knowledge we would have to ask how can you go through an audience on a mountain top in the presence of Moses, Elijah and Jesus talking about his departure from this world, see the bright shining appearance of Jesus’ face and clothes, have a cloud envelops you and the voice of God declare, “This is my Son, My Chosen, listen to him!” and not understand exactly what is going on?

Yet these disciples are so dazed (their description as sleepy sort of suggests this) that they apprehend nothing what they have seen and heard, or write it off as a wild mid-night dream, even many days later.

You might think, having been told in the previous verses (9:23-27) not only if they want to become his followers they must take up their cross and follow him, that to gain their life they must lose it, but that some of them will see the glory of the Kingdom of God before they die.  They didn’t understand they are seeing this here on the mountain top.

Let’s walk through this story of the transfiguration to see how its message about understanding touches us today.

For Luke, prayer and the presence of Jesus as the working out, or fulfillment of Jewish and human history are two central parts of the gospel. (If you want to read more on the connection to Jewish history and prayer, Holladay, p167-169, and Fitzmeyer, p244 are places to start.)  The first thing Luke reports is Jesus taking Peter, James and John up a mountain to pray in the middle of night.

Immediately the three disciples see a fantastical sight of the appearance of Jesus changing and his clothes becoming dazzling white. The same words are used as used to describe the clothing of the two angels at the empty tomb after the resurrection.  The same thing happened to Moses on Mt. Sinai when he received the Law from God.

Powerful connections to the two greatest divine acts in Jewish History permeate this scene. We are left to decide that Moses represents the Law of Jewish history, and Elijah, the Prophets.  They are discussing the departure of Jesus from this life in Jerusalem, using the same word descrbing the departure of the Hebrews from Egypt, exodus.

Everything is being revealed to these disciples.  You might think the disciples are having an “out-of-body” experience observing Jesus talking to Moses and Elijah but sleep fogs their minds.

Beyond hearing Moses and Elijah talk of this new “exodus’ they behold the “glory” of Jesus. Glory is a word describing the presence of God.

As Moses and Elijah depart, at least Peter seems to have enough understanding of the moment not to want it to end, saying, “Let’s build three dwellings so we can stay here a while.” But poor Peter does not fully understand. He does not see the divine implication of the necessary departure of Moses and Elijah as the authority of the Law and the Prophets to give way to the pre-eminence of the Lord of All. If the Universe is driven figuratively by a massive gear works, the scene is one of the entire nature of the gears and Universe changing course.

Even if Peter, James and John believe they are in a nightmare as a cloud engulfs them as it engulfed Moses on Mt. Sinai when he received the Law and a loud voice proclaims the authority of Jesus, “This is my Son, My Chosen, listen to him!,” why don’t they understand?

Whatever the reason, as fast as it happened, the command ends it. The three disciples find themselves alone with Jesus. “And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.” Why were they silent?  

How would you respond to such an event?  

Perhaps the answer is found in Isaiah’s experience in the Throne Room of the Temple just before the Lord punished Israel and Judah with defeat by Assyria and the Babylonians for ignoring the Law. Isaiah’s experience is as surreal and dramatic encounter as the Transfiguration. Isaiah is seized by a dream in which he sees the Lord on his throne in a room filled with smoke and attended by Seraphs, bird-like creatures with six wings covering their face and feet and flying, shouting “Holy, Holy, Holy, is the Lord of Hosts, the who earth is full of his glory.” The sound is so deafening it shakes the very doorframes of heaven as if the entire Heaven is about to collapse. Isaiah can only exclaim, “Woe is me, I am doomed for I have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts. An unclean man among unclean people.” And then one of the seraphs touches Isaiah’s lips with a hot coal telling him he is purified and his sins covered over.

That Isaiah (or Peter, James and John) have enough wits about them to say anything is impressive to me. The Lord asked aloud, “Who shall I send?” and Isaiah says, “Here I am, send me.” Then God gives a terrible message to deliver to the people. “Make the mind of this people dull, and stop their ears, and shut their eyes, so that they may not look with their eyes, and listen with their ears, and comprehend with their minds, and turn and be healed.”

Isaiah laments, “How long, O Lord?” The Lord says, ”Until the cities are wasted and the land is utterly desolate. If even a turpentine tree or oak remains it will be burnt to its stump. In that stump lies the Holy Seed.”  The message: “God reveals understanding at the proper time.”

Is that a clue to the continued lack of understanding of Peter, James and John?

Their lack of understanding persists because on the heels of coming down from the mountain in silence they encounter a man who son is possessed with a demon (today we say he had epilepsy), and the disciples could not heal the him. In one of the few times in Luke, Jesus shows his impatience with the disciples who should have enough faith to heal the boy, and heals the boy himself.

Everyone was amazed at this healing but Jesus goes further with his disciples to say, “Let these words sink in, The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands.” They still don’t understand because the meaning “was concealed from them, so that they could not perceive it and were afraid to ask.

Why did Jesus intentionally hide the true from them? What else is afoot? Unlike the disciples, we know that “betrayed into human hands” means Jesus shall be crucified in Jerusalem by Rome and we know how this all ends on Easter.

Until now in Luke’s account Jesus has been conducting his ministry in Galilee. He has been teaching and training his disciples for their ministry as he proclaimed the good news to the people of Galilee.  He has sent out successfully first twelve, and then 70 disciples with instructions to take no food or extra clothes and only stay with people who welcome them, healing and teaching. They return reporting success. They are ready.

Yet here, Jesus has twice revealed his future to the disciples and revealed to them his identity but they still don’t understand and they do not seem to be able to remaster their healing powers. Everything is set for the next journey to understanding.

In a few short verses at the end of this chapter, as he days drew near for him to be taken up, he sets his face to go to Jerusalem and begins that fateful journey to the cross. The journey we will undertake during the season of Lent beginning this Ash Wednesday.

The disciples are so close to the exodus of Jesus, yet they do not understand at all what the future holds for them. All this talk of dying to gain life, of Jesus being handed over to humans, it makes no sense even if it could be understood.

These disciples have been blinded by the bright light of the glory of God on the mountain top, not by darkness and evil.  Let me ask you, in most ways do we ever really understand things as they happen?

Have you ever had an “Aha!” moment? You have thought or dwelled on a problem, perhaps trying to understand why your spouse does things a certain way, what is bugging your best friend, or what is going on in politics, and just cannot get it figured out? And then later, while you are asleep or driving somewhere with your mind on something entirely different, or especially when you face the same problem yourself, that moment hits you, “Ah…I get it!”

That “aha moment” is especially aggravating when it teaches you a lesson - when you think, “If I had just known that, I could have done something different!”

That is what is going on with James, Peter and John. Soon they will rue, “If I had just known how short a time we were going to have with Jesus I would have….paid more attention…,had more faith…, stayed awake….”

Learning something as an after the fact lived experience, rather than having it described to you beforehand, has a peculiar power. In the case of Peter, James and John, we might wonder if they would have had such faith afterwards to spread the gospel and be attacked for it, if they knew how the story unfolds. Perhaps being blinded by the light was a blessing for them as much as a burden.

I wrote in my last post that I believe there is nothing new under the sun. Does that mean we, every generation, are forever faced with this necessity of rediscovery? …of finding God?

Presbyterians believe we are called to God by God.  When God calls us, it is only a matter of time until we understand why and to what we are called. How can we search for that calling, for understanding, for salvation before we are called?

The answer lies in the mystery of the Holy Spirit and that voice in the cloud, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” Every generation until the final day must seek the same encounter with the Holy Spirit to understand the meaning of these words, “This is my Son, My Chosen, listen to him.”

After the resurrection, the risen Lord stood in a room in Jerusalem with the disciples as said, (Luke 24:44-49) “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, “… repent-ance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. So stay here in Jerusalem until you have been clothed with power (HS) from on high.”

Only sitting on a couch watching a TV evangelist, or on a pew listening to a sermon may not be the best way for the Holy Spirit to find you. I will not say it won’t work, but remember we now know what Jesus meant at the beginning of Luke’s gospel (4:16-21), when “He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor...’ Then he began to say to them, ‘Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.’”

A Christian’s place is out in the world. That is where we find the poor and hungry, whether they be spiritually or economically starved.  That is where we find those enslaved by the world, blinded by its light and lure. It is where we find everyone who thirsts for the grace we share. When we go out into the world spreading Christ’s grace and love, not hate and judgment, we are far more liable to discover the Holy Spirit in those persons with whom we share grace.  The one helped becomes the helper. We are far more likely to hear that call and far more likely to understand how valuable and irreplaceable God’s grace when we don’t look for peace but share it. The experience of discovering God’s grace as a shared experience with others changes you forever. I wonder if that is not that what God intended all the time?

Day 1532 - We’ve Got Peace Like a River

A sermon shared with First Presbyterian Church, Spring City, TN, February 19, 2017.

Psalm 130: 3-6

Luke 7: 36-50

Imagine chapter 7 of Luke’s gospel as a sort of a merry-go-round spinning about the core question that John the Baptist voiced openly half-way through, “Is this the way the Messiah acts in the world?” The question is surrounded with a kaleidoscopic mirror reflecting actions of Jesus and faith back at us. Jesus healed the slave of a Centurion and praised his faith compared to all of Israel, raised the only son of a widow from death, and blesses a woman who found faith and then “crashed” a banquet for Jesus at the home of a Pharisee to express her gratitude.

In each case Jesus makes an act of God motivated by divine compassion towards someone in the social spectrum that most would avoid, a Gentile Roman soldier, a dead person, a widow and a sinful woman. Faith is the link. The compassion, of love of Jesus for them creates or sustains their faith in the good news. Luke’s point is that God gives us salvation because of his divine compassion for humanity. God loves humanity. The ones who receive the blessing born of divine love find inspired in themselves love towards Jesus. The woman at the banquet is the capstone testimony to this point. The event is a model of how God’s grace bestowed upon us by his own compassion and Love inspires the same love for others in us.

There is another very important “teaching” message for modern Christians at the end of the chapter. There we hear Jesus tell the woman to go in peace, leaving us with the question that I am going to argue is rhetorical (the question points to its answer), “Where will she go?” How is “Where will she go?” is its own answer?  Let’s find out.

It may help to understand the nature of meals, especially the formal dinner or banquet in the time of Jesus.

In the time of Roman occupation, both common and formal meals reinforced Jewish community through shared ritual and social behavior. People gathered and followed the requirements of their faith, greeting each other, saying a blessing and so on. A family meal usually involved siting on the floor on a mat.

A formal diner had several social requirements. First, we have the invitation. The person given an invitation was expected to refuse it as the host or his emissary insisted on acceptance. This offers the host the formal “privilege” of “compelling the guest to attend.” (We still do it today, how often do you first decline an offer of help or someone picking up the tab for a meal before you defer to them?  “Let me get that tab. No, that’s ok, I’ll get it. No, I insist. Well, OK…”)

When the guests arrive to enter a home for a dinner, water is offered for the ritual hand washing (and usually feet) to rid the dirt and dust from the street.

Protocol expects the host to receive the guest. The specific manner of greeting depended on social status. Usually the host greeted by bowing, and perhaps kissing the person’s clothing or even the dust on the foot. The common Semitic form of greeting is still to kiss each cheek of the person. Prostration was the most reverential manner of greeting. It was not unusual to anoint the head of the guest with oil as this is a traditional sign of an honored guest.

The dinner itself was more like a symposium. The meal was there for eating. Generally, the content of the meal was appropriate to the social status of the guests, or host. But the essential part of the meal was the discussion and drinking that ensued afterwards. (This may be why Jesus got the reputation for being a drunkard and glutton, he often ate at such banquets.)

The formal meal was segregated, only males partook. There was a strict protocol for seating. The most important guests sat near the host and those of lesser importance sat further down the table. Many upper-class Hebrews had adopted the Roman banquet style of taking meals in a reclining pose, not seated on the ground on a mat (the informal family style), or seated in chairs at a table.  (seen throughout the NT)

Religious requirements forbid a Hebrew to eat with a Gentile, or any one considered an outcast, such as a sinner, or someone who had an illness, deformity or crippling injury.

We see many of these elements of dinner etiquette in this passage. Simon the Pharisee asked (the implied meaning of the Greek word is insisted) that Jesus eat with him, and as we read “he took his place at the table.” All this tells us this is a formal banquet with some seating arrangement (i.e., guests are present).

Why did the Pharisee invite Jesus? Simon may he had heard these sayings of Jesus like everyone else and wanted to know more, even if only how this peculiar man can stir up the crowds with his words. He has little to lose in affording Jesus the basic treatment as a guest to find out and shows it by omitting some of the more important protocol afforded an esteemed guest. Notice that Luke does not report that Simon offered any act of greeting as expected of a host.  As we begin the story we do not know if Luke didn’t report a greeting because it was as perfunctory as a nod or slight bow, or there was no greeting at all. We find later that he does not greet Jesus with the kiss of friendship, nor offer water to wash the dirty of the street from feet and hands.

Then a very unusual thing happens. A woman identified as a sinner hears that Jesus is at this banquet and enters the room. That she is identified as a “sinner” is clearly important. We have no idea of her error but often such language implies she has committed some type of moral indiscretion such as infidelity, prostitution, robbery. We just do not know the nature of the sin, we only need to know she (and the Pharisee) think hers are great. For the Pharisee, her sin was far greater than any of his could possibly be. Although the degree of the sin is important for the Pharisee, for Jesus all sin has the same effect, a separation from God. (My joke is Jesus was a democrat because he says all sin is equal.)

Why did this woman come to this banquet? I lean to conclude that she had heard Jesus tell of his sayings, as did everyone else according to the first few verses of the chapter, and had faith in the truth of what she heard. Faith is a powerful motivator and hers must have been great to enter this formal banquet of men, approach and touch Jesus. It required great personal strength. As a woman and a sinner, she had already violated two principal qualifications that exclude her from worship and social interaction at a banquet, (1) she is a woman among men, and (2) she is unrighteous among those who see themselves as righteous. She had much to lose to enter the room and them go and touch a male guest.

Her insult to manners and custom goes even further when she opens an expensive alabaster jar of ointment, and while weeping, bathes the feet of Jesus with her tears and dries them with her hair, continually kissing and anointing his feet with the ointment and head with oil. An unseemly display of affection.

There are versions of this story in the other gospels although the time, attendees and location vary. Mark’s gospel describes this scene in graphic terms, the woman does not open the jar as if uncapping it, she smashes open the jar of this very expensive perfume probably breaking off the neck of the jar rendering it useless for anything else. The guests are shouting in outrage over her presence and the waste of value. Mark paints a picture of the woman’s presence and actions creating pandemonium among these men.  (Note: Some scholars insist these stories of a woman anointing Jesus are separate and unrelated.)

Luke does not focus on the riotous situation, but on the woman’s powerful experience of compassion her faith in Jesus has evoked. It isn’t proper to read that her compassion caused her faith and forgiveness. Rather, her faith and gratitude motivated her compassion and thanksgiving for Jesus. Her gratitude to the one who forgave her overpowers any sense of fear of social stigma or guilt she may have felt otherwise.

Jesus tells Simon that she has done this because her sins are forgiven.  Unlike the woman, the Pharisee and guests can only remark in disbelief, or sarcasm that reflects denial, “Who is this who even forgives sin?”

Jesus points out to Simon the embarrassing contrast of the faith, love and thanksgiving towards Jesus by the woman and him.

The reaction of Jesus to the woman is much like his reaction to the Centurion. He tells Simon a parable whose point is that while Simon thinks he has little to be forgiven and consequently has less desire to share compassion and recognition to Jesus, the woman has experienced forgiveness of the great debt of sin (that we all carry) and is greatly thankful. She sets the bar for gratitude for grace. Jesus tells Simon through this riddle that his self-assessed minor sins are as deadly as those big ones of the woman. All sin, no matter the degree, separates us from God. Forgiveness unifies us with God.

On first blush, the final blessing of Jesus on this woman, “Go in peace,” leaves us with that lingering, rhetorical question, “Where will she go?” Back out on the streets to her old way of life? No, I don’t think so.

 If the whole series of events in this chapter pivot around John the Baptist’s rhetorical question, “Is this the way the Messiah acts in the world?”  and the answer, “Yes, and you should do likewise,” then the answer to the question “Where will she go?” is not “Back to the streets and old ways,” but “To a sustaining congregation of believers.”

Of all that is in this passage, the important message for us today is to look around and ask: “Do you have such a sustaining, actively grace filled congregation of believers? If not, find one. If so, work to make it better and keep the doors open for the wandering spirits like this woman. Because we are all wandering spirits on the way home in gratitude to God.