Sunday, February 14, 2010

Reflected in a Mirror

Sermon for Last Epiphany C RCL 2/14/2010, Offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-43
Themes: transfiguration, summit and valley, the veil of Moses
Purpose: to teach, to encourage
Title: Reflected in a Mirror

Today, my friends, on this last Sunday of the season of Epiphany, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday. All of the readings today coalesce with laser-like focus around this one theme. Moses climbs Mount Sinai and encounters God directly. This experience causes his face to shine with such brilliance that the people of Israel cannot look at his face. A veil is required for him to wear before he can speak with the people.

In his Second Letter to the Corinthians, Paul interprets this veil of Moses in a negative way: not as a guard to protect the people, but rather as a barrier that prevents the people from seeing the glory of God.


















In the Gospel of Luke, we hear of this enigmatic episode when Jesus climbs up the mountain to pray. There he encounters the Father directly. Like Moses, this experience caused his face to shine with dazzling brilliance. And suddenly, without warning or explanation, Moses and Elijah join him there.

Why Moses and Elijah?

You may remember that Elijah also climbed Mt. Sinai, in imitation of Moses’ effort, in order to speak directly with the Lord (1 Kings 19). In his despair over the faithlessness of his people and the wickedness of their rulers, it seems that Elijah did not know what else to do or where else to go. In Elijah’s world, if one needs to hear directly from God, then one goes to Mt. Sinai. There God spoke to Elijah in a quiet voice, giving him a clear command to return to the people of Israel and to renew the covenant.

Let us think for a few minutes about the importance of the presence of Moses and Elijah on the mountain with the Lord. It’s quite shocking, really. It’s the most amazing aspect of this episode, in my opinion. There is no precedent for people in the Bible meeting with the dead saints of old to discuss current affairs. There is nothing that would prepare us as readers or as hearers of this story so that we can say, “Oh yes, of course. Moses and Elijah are there. That makes perfect sense!”

It doesn’t make any sense at all, honestly. But even though it’s surprising and unexpected, I think it tells us something important.

Paul wrote these words: “All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor. 3:18). And so I ask you this: who else functions as the mirrors reflecting the glory of God to the world except for the saints, those who with love and dedication and perseverance have purified their hearts?

Is it by accident that at the very moment when the true glory of the Lord Jesus is most clearly revealed on this earth that Moses and Elijah are there to share in, and to reflect, that glory?

One casualty of the modern scientific worldview which shapes the worldview around us is our ability to perceive and appreciate the presence of those who have gone before us.

Our brothers and sisters in the Greek and Eastern Orthodox traditions have been better able to maintain in their liturgies a deeper sense of this abiding presence of the saints. Whenever there is a lectionary reading attributed to one of the biblical saints, a prayer is typically added for the saints’ blessing. For example: “A reading from St. Paul’s 2nd Letter to the Corinthians: May his blessing be upon us.” Or, “A reading from the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel: May his blessing be upon us.”

It’s a small turn of phrase, but small additions such as these suggest that they grow out of a different perspective on our relationship with our ancestors in the faith. Why not, I wonder, ask for St. Paul’s blessing when we are called to read one of his writings?

“Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” of which St. Paul is an important part, does it not make sense to refer to him as if he is truly alive today in the Lord, and not simply as a historical figure of the past?

Coming directly out of the great cloud of witnesses, Moses and Elijah met with Jesus upon the mountain. In no way do I suggest that we can expect to have that same level of interaction with the saints of old. Our Lord lived in unique intimacy with the Father. Our goal is to achieve that same kind of intimacy with God, but for all of us, that will always remain a goal in the distance.

But even if we are not yet ready to experience this depth of connection to the spiritual world, to the heavens, which surround us at all times, is it not right and good for us to at least act as if this is in fact the truth? To at least think about the saints and prophets of old as they truly are, as living members of the Church today?

The Church has always had this goal, but we swim upstream against culture and the numbing effects of time in attempting to maintain our consciousness. For instance, in all of the apostolic churches, the clergy serving at the altar wear this white robe which we call an alb, and over it we wear the colored cloak which we call a chasuble. Why do we wear such things?

Do you know that this alb is nothing different from the ordinary under-garments of those living in Roman times? I guess today it is equivalent to a pair of sweat-pants or jeans and a t-shirt. And do you know that this chasuble which I will put on after the Offertory is nothing else but a rain poncho that Roman citizens wore to protect themselves from the weather?

So why then did the Church have the clergy continue to wear these clothes, when they were nothing but ordinary, every-day clothing? It’s because the first martyrs of the Church stood before the rulers and authorities in these clothes and made their confession of faith in Jesus! It’s because the first martyrs of the Church died wearing ordinary clothing such as these. And we want to look like them. We want to dress like them. It’s because they are our honored ancestors in the faith, and when we think of what it means to be faithful and true and pure in heart, we want to look and act and think as they did.

When Jesus went up the mountain to pray, he took Peter and James and John, and he met Moses and Elijah there.

The great Jewish teacher of the 20th century, Abraham Joshua Heschel, had this to say about prayer in the Bible: “It is not safe to pray alone. Tradition insists that we pray with, and as a part of, the community” (Man’s Quest for God, p. 45).

Maybe our Teacher, our Guide, sets us an example here. That at this moment of prayer when he is most connected to the power and light and glory of the Father, he is surrounded by saints and apostles and prophets. He is not alone. And we are never alone. Never are we separated from them: from their prayers, from their presence, from their witness. The death of the body is not strong enough to break the bonds which God has created in the Church. Praise be to God that Moses and Elijah stood on the mountain in witness to this truth. Amen.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

I Am What I Am

Sermon for 5 Epiphany C RCL 2/7/2010, offered by Nathan Ferrell for Trinity Episcopal Shared Ministry

Texts: Isaiah 6:1-13; Psalm 138; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11

God must have a sense of humor. When we look at how things work in the divine economy, how God chooses to interact with the world, there is a remarkable sense of irony in life. It’s just plain odd how things tend to work out.

Look at St. Paul. He himself states his position most clearly: “I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.”

It’s remarkable that Paul was the one whom God chose to lead the explosive growth of the church among the gentiles. Paul, who was not even one of the twelve; who never met the Lord while he was still on earth; who encouraged the persecution of the disciples and the murder of the first martyr, Stephen; who was so proud of his perfect Jewish heritage.

God sent HIM to bring the good news to the gentiles? It’s quite ironic, but this seems to the way in which God works. In theological terms, we call this the divine economy: God’s ways of keeping and directing the human household.

When I was away last weekend in New Hampshire, I had a wonderful opportunity to read a book. I don’t get to do that normally, but that’s what vacation time is for! I read an excellent biography of St. Patrick and the real story of his life.

When you move beyond all of the legends and myths and tall tales about St. Patrick, you find that there is a very interesting historical figure there. Like St. Paul, Patrick had a dramatic and momentous turning point in his life. And out of this turn of events, he was given a passion for his mission which could not be quenched. God chose Patrick to accomplish a mission which seemed quite beyond his abilities and strength.

Here is Patrick speaking in his Confession, which is his letter to the Bishops in Britain who had accused him of misconduct. He writes to defend the legitimacy of his mission. “So listen to me well, all of you,…: God chose foolish little me from among all of you who seem so wise and so expert in the law and so powerful in your eloquence. He picked ignorant Patrick ahead of all of you – even though I am not worthy – he picked me to go forth with fear and reverence – and without any of you complaining at the time – to serve the Irish faithfully. The love of Christ carried me here to be a help to these people for the rest of my life, if I may be worthy, and to work for them with humility and in sincerity” (St. Patrick of Ireland, Freeman, P. 179).

A little more context is needed also, I think, to better understand the irony here. Patrick was brought up as a wealthy Roman citizen in Britain, but he was kidnapped by the Irish while still a teenager. He was sold into slavery in Ireland and for years he tended sheep for his master. Finally, after 6 long years, God led Patrick to freedom and he returned to his parents and home in Britain. But almost immediately, God spoke to Patrick in two dreams and called him to return to Ireland as a missionary. HIM?! Why would God call him to return to that dreadful place? And to serve those people who had destroyed his childhood; who had taken away his chance to be educated, his birthright to have a good career and a prosperous future among the Roman nobility?

And yet, for reasons beyond our limited human understanding, this is how God works. Our lessons today make it so very clear.

God takes Isaiah, an unclean man, one is painfully aware of his own sinfulness, and God gives him a vision of the Triune God in holiness and sends him out to speak the word of God.

God takes Paul, the least of the apostles, one who never fit the standard mold, and God sends him on a mission which accomplished far more than all of the other apostles combined!

God calls Peter, a sinful man who so often misunderstood the Lord, and God appoints him as a catcher of people, and he becomes the rock, the leader of the apostles upon whom the foundation of the church rests.

God calls Patrick, an uneducated, broken young man who was just so glad to be back home again, and God sends him away from his home, never to return again, to serve the very people who had so badly hurt him.

This is the irony of how God chooses to operate, the Lord’s modus operandi. Martin Luther famously described God’s method in this way: God rides the lame horse and carves the rotten wood.

But the crucial point is this: the lame horse that is chosen is one which WANTS to be ridden by God, which is not content with being lame but rather WANTS to be whole and strong and swift.

The point for us to take away is not that only those who first misunderstood the Lord, or who first spent time deep in notorious sins, are the ones whom God uses to spread the Gospel. That is the wrong conclusion to draw here.

The point, I believe, is that it’s extremely rare for any of God’s servants to ever feel up to the task before them.

This is the divine economy, the way that God chooses to guide and direct our lives, and indeed this entire human experiment.

There is real encouragement here for us.
St. Paul said it so well: By the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. God has made us who we are, and there are times when God calls us to a specific task and duty. If you do not feel worthy or ready or adequate for this task, then know that you are in good company, in fact the best company of all.

Our job is simply to make sure that the grace of God has not been given to us in vain. Do your best, follow your conscience, ask for help, give your best effort to God, and then allow the Lord Jesus to do with it as he sees fit.

Grace is what we receive; faithfulness is what we offer. And God takes care of the rest. After all, this is God’s work, God’s mission, God’s plan. We are privileged to have some role to play in it. Amen.

God & Guinness and SNOW



















Last week, a few men joined me at Connie Mac's Irish Pub in Pennsauken for a beer and conversation. I call it God and Guinness.



















Our snowy street on Saturday, Feb. 6. What a crazy winter! It sure messes with our average Sunday attendance at church!