Saturday 9 February 2013

Transfiguration

The text of an address prepared for this Sunday, the last before Lent :-


Here’s a story you might have heard before, but I’m sure it’s worth re-telling, especially in a Presbyterian church. A bishop who was guest of honour at an event in one of the churches of his diocese found, somewhat to his consternation, that he was being followed around by a little girl as, sherry in hand, he made his tour of the room.  The little girl was the vicar’s six year old daughter - and every time the bishop looked round, there she was, staring at him.  Wherever he went, there she followed.  He just couldn't shake her off.  Finally, he could take no more:  "Why are you following me about, little girl?" he asked.  "I'm waiting to see you do your trick," she replied.  "What trick?" asked the bishop in consternation, not being much given to tricks.  "I’m waiting to see you do your trick with the glass," said the little girl.  "I don't do any tricks with glasses," replied the bishop sternly.  "Daddy says you do," replied the little girl serenely.  "Daddy says you can drink like a fish."

Really, my starting point for today is that people followed Jesus - and many of them followed him for reasons much the same as the reason why that little girl was following the bishop.  They wanted to see what tricks he was going to do - for he was, after all, the latest thing, and they wanted to be dazzled and amazed.  And I want to keep that image in mind as I think this morning about what it means for us as his Church and as individual Christian people to be followers of Jesus today. 

We’ve heard one version of the story of that remarkable event we call the Transfiguration - and we’ve seen how three of the disciples were so dazzled and amazed, up there on the mountain, that for a while none of them really knew much about where they were at all, or even whether they were waking or sleeping.
Not that they’d gone there with him expecting any of that. Not everyone was following Jesus just in the hope of seeing magic tricks and miracles. Peter, James, John and the others were following Jesus because he had called them. And, I suppose, because something about the things he said and the things he did burned in their hearts.

Here are four things I want briefly to say about following Jesus, looking at it from the point of view of, say, Simon Peter. First: If Jesus called people Simon Peter then he might call anyone.  He doesn’t call people of a certain grade, with established qualifications, with a certain measured quality of goodness.  Jesus called fishermen (and tax collectors, and all sorts), not scholars - or at least, not necessarily scholars.  He didn’t look for book-learning -  the one thing he requires is this:  that when he calls, we say yes.

So my second point follows on: all we need at the outset if we’re to follow Jesus is this - that we have an obedient faith.  Jesus said, "You are my friends, if you do what I command."  Doing what you’re told to do is the mark of a servant, but Jesus doesn’t leave us that way.  He says very clearly, "I call you servants no longer. You are my friends."

And that takes us to my third point: Following Jesus means learning from Jesus and growing like Jesus.  "Are you following me?" Those are words a teacher may say to her class, or a storyteller to the people listening.  And when Jesus asks us to follow him, he doesn't mean tag along behind me like so many of the crowds did, or like that little girl did to the bishop. He means come and learn from me, follow me as your guide in life; so that, as St Paul wrote, “we have the mind of Christ”. Let me complete that quote from St John - "I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything I learned from my Father." To learn from a teacher is to grow like that teacher - the great Christian call and challenge is to imitate, to grow like, to grow close to, our Lord Jesus Christ.

The fourth thing I’d want to say is this. It’s a point made by one of the cast in a very moving and challenging play I went to watch at Marton Village Hall last week, performed by the wonderful Riding Lights Theatre Company.  Jesus doesn't say to anyone he calls that following him will be a safe thing to do.  Quite the opposite, in fact:  it won’t be safe, or easy.  It can be tough, and it will be costly. But what he does say is that it’s going to be worth it. For another thing he says to his disciples is:  "I am the way, the truth, and the life." 

The Church is a community of people who’ve heard Christ’s call and decided to follow. Its members are people who as friends of Jesus are pilgrim companions together. Jesus told the disciples that the world would know the truth of his word when it saw how his friends loved one another. He laid down his own life for love of his friends, and for love, even, of those who hammered the nails into his hands and feet. And his one great commandment is this: love one another, as I have loved you.

So the renewal of our Church in mission and outreach depends on our obedience to that great command. If we’re to grow and thrive and make new disciples, we need to be renewed in unity and fellowship and love. If we don’t notice, encourage, correct and support our fellow disciples, if we let ourselves be divided so that labels like Anglican or Methodist or Presbyterian or Catholic mean more to us than the one that says Jesus, then we fall short of he calls out from us, and we short-change our witness to the world of his love. 

I’m not sure what right I have to say any of these things. I wouldn’t claim to be a shining example of discipleship. Nor would I dare to speak from any platform of ministerial authority; I stand here with no authorization other than that of fellow pilgrim. I am amazed to hear Jesus call me, but he does, just as he calls you. All I can do is to try and follow. And why? Because in Jesus I see a great man, and a fine teacher, and an example of faith and service. But not only that; there is more.

And that takes me on to reflect on just what it was that happened on the Mountain of the Transfiguration, just what it was that Peter and James and John saw there. Transfiguration means fundamental change, and we’ve heard how in their eyes Jesus was changed, how his clothes, his face, became dazzling white. And yet I don’t believe Jesus changed at all.

My take on what happened on that mountain side is not that Jesus was changed, but that the eyes of his friends were opened, or maybe their hearts, and just for a moment they were able to see him as he always is - aflame with the glory of God, shining out with the purity of God.

For this man is so closely joined to God, the Son and the Father are so closely one, that all the radiance of divine glory shines out in that human face. It always does. It did in the stable at Bethlehem, it did as that man hung broken and dying on the cross. For the most part its shining was hidden and unseen; but the miracle on the hillside was not that Jesus suddenly shone so radiantly, but that they just for a moment were granted leave to see it, to see him as he always is.

For in this man we see all the radiant glory, all the loving power, all the creative authority of God.  So to say yes to his call and to follow him is to join ourselves in to that closeness to God.  When we are friends of Jesus we can call God ‘Our Father’ and we can pray to him in a new way, with no need for intermediaries or special ritual, for priests and temples, but just as ourselves, in perfect confidence and trust. We can discover the truth of the promise made in Isaiah that God is with us and will uphold us if we pass through fire or water. Follow me, says Jesus, join yourselves to me, so that I am the vine and you the branches. Cut off from me you can do nothing, he tells us. But when we’re joined to him, when we follow him in faith, we too shall shine, as our lives and the life of our Church will bear the fruit of his love.

No comments:

Post a Comment