Fifty-one years ago at a small Lutheran college in a small Illinois town, a young college freshman spotted her at the dining hall. Each day he would try to muster up the courage to approach her only to see her zip out of the dining hall before he had a chance to say anything. After some time of failing to make any headway he finally concluded he needed to take some more assertive actions to break through the barriers that were keeping him from approaching her. The next day at meal time, seeing her get up from her seat to leave he made a dash to exit. Thrusting his arm across the doorway to physically block her from departing the dining area, he looked into her eyes and uttered the cringe inducing line - "I don't know your name, but I would like to". Thus began the decades long love affair between my Dad and my Mom.
This is the kind of story that can seem unavoidable each year in the middle of February. We spend weeks inundated by businesses urging us to get our "I'm with Cupid" Pajama-grams ordered, our "Hooked on You" Pirate Teddy Bears shipped and our dozens of flowers arranged for just the right presentation. But it is the stories that capture my attention. Callers respond in earnest as a radio station opens the phone lines for listeners to share their tales of romance, love, and relationships. A fairly successful online campaign encourages Facebook users to post details of your relationship along with a picture of you and your significant other. It is an easy conversation starter as story seekers simply ask questions like, "How did you meet?" or "When did you know she or he was 'the one'?
If your stomach survives the unavoidable ooey, gooey, syrupy schmaltz that accompanies some of these stories you begin to notice a pattern emerge in their telling. Each story invariably ends up reflecting on that moment when some barrier is broken. Once traversed, space opens for the relationship to deepen. The rush is on to spend as much time as possible with the other person, losing awareness of the rest of the world in favor of the one right in front of you. It's hard to capture in words, but once you have experienced it you never forget the feeling. And regardless of the outcome of that particular relationship, those moments change you forever.
Now when you get right down to it, this same story of magic and mystery combined with a crossing of barriers is at the heart of this morning's gospel lesson from Luke. Sure, we like to 'church it up' a little bit with fancy words but the core of this story is barrier busting revelation about another that changes who we are. Recall what happens in today's passage. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John on a hike up a mountain for a time of prayer. While Jesus prayed "the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white." The church has taken that moment and designated it as the festival known as the Transfiguration of our Lord.
And make no mistake. It is a remarkable thing. In that moment, God transcends the limits of human understanding allowing these disciples to fully grasp Jesus' identity. Peter, James and John are treated, with striking clarity, to a glimpse of God's glory. And in that moment Peter responds in a way I think most of us would. — "Hey," he says, "This is awesome! Let's just put up some tents and hang out here a while!" Like those first moments basking in the glow of love and new relationships Peter's first inclination was to soak up as much of this moment as possible.
Now if this story was solely about Jesus and those lucky few who got to witness this remarkable moment, it may have ended there with a great eternal communal campout on the mountain. Such a story would span generations and be an inspiration to many. After all, it is those stories people crave. The mystical nature that undergirds the stories of how we become wrapped up in a relationship is compelling stuff. However, we know that not every day can be flowers and teddy bears; hearts and candy; or glowing garments and shining faces. These flashes of revelation, the glow of these special moments dim over time. As we get deeper into our relationships the work of keeping it together becomes harder. Questions about the hard work that comes next do not slip off the tongue quite as readily as 'how did you meet?'. Think about it for a moment. How often do we hear or ask, 'how do you stay together'?
. How often do we hear or ask, 'how do you stay together'? So it is with our relationship with God. We can point to our own mountain top moments when the only explanation for those times when we are overwhelmed and unable to find the words to express ourselves; when our hearts shine so bright, is the presence of God. Experience tells us, however, that our daily relationship with God does not keep us perched on the mountain top. The euphoria wanes. The newness no longer feels new. The questions about our relationship with God become less focused on how we met, and turn to the more worrisome issue of how we stay connected.
It is a daunting prospect, this idea of maintaining a relationship with God. Goodness knows, it is hard enough to manage relationships here on earth. Now we have to worry about a relationship with the divine? Some of our anxieties are relieved by our faith in a God who does not leave us to struggle alone by continually meeting us where we are. I would suggest this is something we always remember whenever we get into a discussion about this God-human relationship. It is an idea perhaps best illustrated by a story some of you may have heard by Kelly Fryer, an author and church consultant. She shares about a time in seminary when she was listening to an uninteresting lecture on a beautiful day when everyone would rather be outside. Apparently the professor sensed that nobody was being attentive because suddenly he closed his notebook and stopped talking. "He wasn't going to waste one more breath on us," she writes. But, before leaving the lecture hall, he picked up a piece of chalk and on the blackboard he drew a huge arrow pointing straight down. He stood back and told the class, "If you understand that, you understand everything you need to know about what it means to be a Christian " and with that he left the room.
Everyone remained for a time staring at the arrow pointing downward. Fryer admits that the most logical thing she could think was, "He thinks we're all going to hell."
But the next time the class met the professor began his lecture by drawing that same arrow on the board. This time he had everyone's complete attention. "Here's what this means," he told them. "God always comes down. God always comes down. There is never anything that we can do to turn that arrow around and make our way UP to God. God came down in Jesus. And God still comes down, in the bread and in the wine, in the water and in the fellowship of believers. God ALWAYS comes down."
Well that is some good news if I ever heard it! If a relationship takes two, we're already half way there! Where, then, does that leave us? Well, in our text today there is a message that accompanies this example of God coming down. The story continues as God descends onto the disciples in cloud and gives Peter, James, and John a message for their ears to go with what they just saw: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" God is telling the disciples that they are not going to get off easy, simply basking in the glow of God's radiant glory. With these words Peter, James, and John (and you and I) are told the deeper message in this Transfiguration story. God did not send Jesus to walk among humanity for God's own sake. God sent Jesus for the sake of the world. Our relationship with God is nurtured as Jesus' life is lived through us in each of our relationships with each other and all of creation. And if I may borrow the image of the cross that has been expressed on occasion from this pulpit, God breaks through a barrier to come down in Jesus and sends us out to do God's work with our hands.
And so this day with the 'churchy' name marks an important moment in our faith journey. It is a time for transition. Since Christmas we have celebrated God's decision to walk among us in the flesh. Today we give thanks for a God who overcomes obstacles of understanding to give us an opportunity to share in God's glory as it is reflected through the person of Jesus. Up next? The march to Jerusalem begins.
We leave the awe and mystery that makes up this day much as the Peter, James and John did. Coming down from their mountain top experience the very next day the first sight to greet them was a very large crowd - in other words, they were right back to the daily grind. But they entered that ordinary life changed by the God who revealed the complete Jesus to them. Fellow disciples, we are transformed as well. Be open to God's presence especially during the Lenten journey in the days and weeks ahead. The time will come when God will point out someone in need. God will say, "This is my child. My Chosen. Listen." And we will be there to respond. We will remove walls that keep us apart and nurture that relationship so that we may reveal the light of Christ.