Orchard Ridge United Church of Christ

Preached by Rev. Winton Boyd on Sunday, February 3, 2008
Matthew 17:1-8

A recent email to me began this way: The scene is a North Country lake up in the Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness. There were about 15 young people and some other adult leaders at a backcountry campsite. It was the last night of a weeklong trip. On these canoe trips, the tradition for the last night was to have a silent canoe float out on the dark lake. The rules were simple. No talking and no light. Just experience the wilderness; take it in; be a part of it; see how we are just woven into the web of creation.

On this particular night, as the fire died down and the brilliant stars came out, they knew they were in for a treat. With no moon and no wind, the reflections of the stars on the still water were nearly as bright as those in the heavens. They pushed off from the granite headlands that led from the campsite to the lake. Some nights like this were a struggle with the kids, but not this one. It was so beautiful that there was no problem with silence.

After only 10 minutes or so it began. First, just a glow in the northern sky; but then spreading upward and arching over nearly the entire vault of the heavens. The mysterious and beautiful Northern Lights; the Aurora Borealis.

It shot up and over the sky, nearly covering them. It throbbed and changed colors and reflected in the lake. We were, as one leader said, in awe.

No one spoke. Silence, except for a gasp or a quiet “Oh!” Mysterious. Awesome. (a holy encounter) A beauty that is hard to describe and likely an infrequent human experience, at least for us who don’t live closer to the poles.

When the group got back to our camp, re-built the fire and sat around to just talk about what they had seen. One boy expressed what all were likely were thinking, “It seemed to me that God was speaking to us.”

He might have added, “and I will never forget it.”

I suspect most of us live for moments like these. Most of us yearn for these brief, mysterious moments of deep connection with creation, our creator, one another; and yes, our soul. We might even say that just a few moments of “holy encounter” like this every now and then will make the rest of our life more complete, more fulfilled, more harmonious.

While the Aurora Borealis have a fascinating scientific explanation and while one could go looking for the right location, condition, and time of year to see them – they remain wonderful in part because of their awesomeness, their mystery, and their illusive and timeless quality. For those who have seen them, they are among life’s amazing sights and powerful experiences, and often defy explanation with mere words.

What we encounter in today’s text is the Transfiguration, when Jesus’ disciples had their own “holy encounter” – a mysterious, powerful, even terrifying, experience which could easily have been followed by the words of the young canoeist, “It seemed that God was speaking to us.”

Matthew’s narrative of the transfiguration connects Jesus with the giving of the law on Mount Sinai. The disciples experience Jesus as uniquely related to the law-giving God. The God who calls all things into being also calls Jesus the “beloved one.”

Such moments of holy encounter point to the fact that God is in all things and all things are in God. This event with Jesus and the disciples, as with Moses, as with the Northern lights, point to what one theologian calls the “God fullness of all reality.”

At the same time, they point to the fact that God is not confined to any human theology or experience. God is “more” than we can describe, imagine, experience, or fully understand. The intimacy of God is shrouded in mystery, provoking wonder and awe. “Transfiguration moments” can neither be fully understood nor controlled by humankind.

The common thread seems to be a radical openness, and a radical listening. Sometimes in the Bible we see this through those who listen; BUT sometimes we see this through those who don’t. The story of transfiguration is a great example of beloved disciples who were humbled by their preconceived ideas of what they might hear.

Jesus’ life, on the other hand, models a wholehearted and ongoing response to God. He remains open and invites us to do the same. His openness, rather than distancing him from us, serves to remind us that God is speaking in our lives and that lively experiences of the Holy are always possible.

TRANSITION

Throughout the seasons of Advent and Epiphany we see mysterious and remarkable “holy encounters.”
• Some have the flavor of what theologians call transcendence –God coming from above or beyond as in the appearance to Shepherds and Wise Magi.
• Some have the flavor of what is called immanence – the God rising from within as in Mary and Joseph who have very personal, private realizations of God’s cal on their lives.
• Some cause fear and some joy.
• Some inspire belief and others confusion.

It is tempting to look at these stories as well and suggest they speak to a long forgotten time, and have little current relevance to our lives. Recently I was reminded of the beautiful Quaker belief that all of us have a spark of the divine within us, all of us have an inner light.

If this is so, then it is a reminder that these holy encounters are not just in the past, not just happening to someone else, but very real and very possible, “in here,” within us. Wislawa Szymborska, 1996 Nobel Laureate in Literature, describes these moments of inner light, or inner “holy encounters” as a recognition of our own soul. He describes “having a soul” as experiencing God through a deep knowing of ourselves.

“A Few Words About Soul”

We have a soul at times. No one’s got it nonstop, for keeps

Day after day, year after year may pass without it.

Sometimes it will settle for a while
only in childhood’s fears and raptures.
Sometimes only in astonishment that we are old.

It rarely lends a hand in uphill tasks, like moving furniture, or lifting luggage, or going miles in shoes that pinch.

It usually steps out whenever meat needs chopping or forms have to be filled.

For every thousand conversations in participates in one, if even that, since it prefers silence.

Just when our body goes from ache to pain, it slips off duty.

It’s picky; it doesn’t like seeing us in crowds, our hustling for a dubious advantage and creaking machinations make it sick.

Joy and sorrow aren’t two different feelings for it. It attends to us only when the two are joined.

We can count on it when we’re sure of nothing and curious about everything.

Among the material objects it favors clocks with pendulums and mirrors, which keep on working even when no one is looking.

It won’t say where it comes from or when its taking off again, though its clearly expecting such questions.

We need it but apparently it needs us, for some reason, too.

When has your soul shown up? When did you last have a moment, a glimpse, or an experience of holy encounter, of true soulfulness? How has, or does, that moment, inform or feed your life?

Even more, how do we live a soulful, or a transfigured life in the face of such mystery? The canoeists in the Boundary Waters, Moses and Jesus all point to the power of pausing, listening, and noticing. Theologian and psychiatrist Gerry May described his understanding of God as the “Power of Slowing.” Such holy and mysterious encounters with the divine are not manufactured, but come from an openness and expectation that God illumines every day life – from within us and from the world and heavens around us.

Advent, Christmas and Epiphany are a time to notice and to celebrate the great light of God in the world. Lent, which we start later this week, is a time to pause, reflect, and be humble before the mystery of God’s spirit within us.

What would your life of soulful listening mean to you and to those in your circle of influence? How does a soulful way of listening and living create sustainability in your faith, your committed to justice? Might this upcoming season of Lent be a time for you to put away the cookware, climb quietly into the canoe, silently paddle to the middle of the lake to sit and listen, watch, wait, trust?

Today’s text
And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” He was still speaking when, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.