Sermon: Crash Helmets

Luke 9:28-43

I’d like to start out our sermon tonight with a short discussion. This Sunday is Transfiguration Sunday, and every year at this time, we read the story of the Transfiguration. In our three year lectionary cycle of scriptures, we read the Transfiguration account from Matthew, and then Mark, and then Luke. And this year, the text comes from Luke. Audrey and I are going to read the scripture lesson, and when we’re finished, I’m curious to know your thoughts on the passage. What are your first impressions? What do you notice? Do you associate anything with this passage? And what questions come to mind for you?

I invite us to open our awareness to this passage as we hear it.

A reading from Luke. Listen to God’s Word for us here and now tonight.

(Scripture and Discussion)

As I studied for our sermon this week, I ran across a commentary by a well-known theologian and preacher named Fred Craddock, and he made a really great point about this passage. He says that we may unintentionally cheapen this story if we automatically begin by making it a reference point to our own experience. In other words, what he seems to mean is that if we jump in right away and say, “Oh! This Transfiguration event is just like our experience of x, y, and z!” we might miss the awe and holiness that are a part of this passage. After all, a holy event is one in which something very different occurs, something that’s very set apart from our typical experience. And in your observations, you seemed to say something similar. It’s not every day that we see a vision of Jesus with Moses and Elijah on a mountaintop. It’s not every day that we see a majestic cloud coming down with a voice proclaiming Jesus as the one we’re called to follow. And it’s not every day that we come off of a mountain to find a father with his child, a child that the father presents as possessed by an unclean spirit. These references are most likely outside of our common experience, and if we were telling the story through modern words and a modern worldview, we’d probably tell it a bit differently.

But does that mean this scripture has little to say to us – nothing to say to us, we 21^st century people, people who haven’t experienced these visions or events in exactly the same way they’re described here? No, and I’m thankful the passage has much to say to us. So I’m grateful for your observations, and I’m curious about how the Holy Spirit is at work among us in our sacred moment right now, to teach us in and through this story so that we might be sent out to live it. So let’s get inside this story together. Let’s use our imaginations.

Peter, James, and John walk up a mountain together with Jesus to pray. Perhaps they were tired from all the traveling they had been doing around Galilee, on foot from town to town. Perhaps they were on an emotional high. They had seen some incredible events over the last few days - a hungry crowd with no obvious food source in sight, was fed by Jesus with such abundance that twelve baskets were full with leftover food after everyone was satisfied. Or perhaps they were confused. Peter had recently made this great declaration before Jesus and the disciples: “You, Jesus, are the Messiah of God.” But Jesus began to state the implications of what that would mean for him, and they definitely didn’t fit the disciples’ expectations: Jesus says, “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Maybe they were very confused and conflicted as they walked up that mountain with Jesus. There was certainly a lot to ponder these days.

And maybe all of that pondering – all of that experiencing – had worn them to the bone. They were exhausted and in their fatigue, who knows? They may have been a bit zoned out, in their own world, as we say. They certainly weren’t expecting what they were about to experience on that mountaintop.

Jesus was praying. Perhaps he sought their prayers alongside him as well. But it seems they were just about to drift to sleep when they were suddenly moved with an experience that was radically beyond their comprehension. Perhaps the transcendence and holiness of the moment was so thick and intense, that it was hard to put it in to words. These are the words and images that the Gospel writers give us: As Jesus prayed, his appearance changed, and his clothes seemed as though they were dazzling white. And two men appeared as well, Moses and Elijah, speaking to Jesus about his departure; the word in the Greek text is exodus. In a moment of prayer, God’s presence was incredibly holy beyond description and yet immanent, right there with them – right there with these sleepy disciples who were probably expecting nothing more than a simple prayer and if we’re being honest, a nap.

And then Peter can’t stand it anymore. He has to say something. You gotta love Peter. . . It’s easy to smile or chuckle a bit when we hear how Luke frames what he has to say. In effect, the text says, “Peter had no idea what he was saying. . .” Can you imagine him? “Uh, hey Jesus! Hey, uh. . .I have a great idea! Uh. . .Let’s build three dwellings: You know, one for you. . . one for Moses. . one for Elijah! It’ll be GREAT!”

And then comes a moment so holy, that it produces awe, fear, and a profound sense of majesty. There is a cloud, like the presence of God from the exodus story itself, and a voice from cloud proclaims: “This is my Son, the Chosen; listen to him!”

They listen. And they don’t stay on that mountain forever. They don’t stay, enshrined with holy tabernacles for dwelling. No, they come down and they reenter a world that is often wrought with suffering. They find a father in full desperation and anxiety there with his child. Jesus heals that child and gives him back to his father.

What a story. . . And yes, Fred Craddock is right. We would be missing something if we immediately tried to make the story of the Transfiguration fit into the confines of our modern experience, if we tried to reduce this story and put it on our terms. Is Luke telling us about a literal event? Is Luke giving us a grand metaphor? I don’t presume to know the answer to those questions but I do believe this story has much to say to us. And even though this story can’t be reduced to our questions and modern experiences, this passage does speak to our experiences. It does call us to think about our experiences differently.

When we come to worship, what do we expect? When we enter this holy place and this sacred moment, do we expect to encounter God? Are we tired? Are we on an emotional high? Are we confused? Are we mentally or emotionally asleep? Do we expect to experience something out of the ordinary here – something deep, holy, life-changing – right in the midst of our every-day-ness, right in the middle of what is ordinary?

The honest answer is sometimes, yes and sometimes, no. We bring all sorts of thoughts and experiences in this room with us. But what if we brought them with intention, with the intention of listening deeply, singing with meaning, speaking with conviction, and receiving communion as the gift that it truly is?

Some of you have read some of writings of Annie Dillard. She says something interesting about Christian worship that has stayed with me for many years, though I too, functionally forget it. Too often we come to worship with no expectation of how holy and sacred it truly is. Annie Dillard says that if we were to take worship seriously, we would all come wearing crash helmets! That’s right. Crash Helmets. We would expect God’s presence to be among us, calling us to amazing acts of ministry in this world – difficult acts, yes, but powerful acts of healing, justice, service, compassion, kindness, and love.

And so again, rather than imposing our experience on the Transfiguration story, we ought to let the Transfiguration story transform our experience. Like Jesus, Peter, James, and John, we leave this holy sacred hour of worship, to move into the world where more holy acts will meet us and require our care and attention. We are called to be transfigured people ourselves – to move into our week differently because we have been here together, because we have encountered the very presence of God, for Jesus has said, “Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I am among them.” Christ calls us here for a holy moment of transfiguration so that we might go out into the world and meet him there too! Again, he has spoken to us: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, ³⁶I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me. Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family,^* you did it to me.”

In worship, we are united with ancient witnesses of old – like our gospel writers – who tell us, “This is God’s Son, the Chosen; listen to him!” And we tell that one another. Here we are, invited to listen to him now. We have come to a Holy Moment of worship. And we are called to follow him into the world. Will this moment transfigure us along with him? And will we have the courage go down the mountain this week and meet his healing presence in a hurting world? Will we allow the Transfiguring presence of God to transform our modern experience?

-Renee Roederer, Campus Minister, and the Austin Agape Community