A Sermon preached on Last Epiphany February 14, 2021 at St. Augustine’s, Wiesbaden and St. Christoph, Mainz
2 Kings 2:1-12, 2 Corinthians 4:3-6, Mark 9:2-9
On this Last Sunday after the Epiphany, our readings, especially the gospel, complete a circle. The First Sunday after the Epiphany, Jan. 10, was the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord and in the account of his baptism, we heard the voice that came from heaven say, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’ (Mark 1:11) In this morning’s gospel about the Transfiguration, the voice came from a cloud, and said ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him! (Mark 9:7)
Soon after this, Jesus will leave Galilee, the place all of his ministry has taken place in so far, first for the region of Judea and beyond the Jordan, and then for Jerusalem and all that awaits him there, all the things we prepare for in Lent and remember in Holy Week: The Last Supper, the betrayal, his imprisonment, his death upon the Cross.
This is a turning point in his ministry, and so we mark it as a turning point in the Church year, as a suitable transition from the Season of Epiphany to the Season of Lent. And, as Epiphany has also been all about Jesus as light – the light of revelation, the light of truth, and the light of the world – the Transfiguration event at which Jesus “was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them,” (Mark 9:2-3) is a very fitting climax to that season of light.
And yet in my Facebook feed some of my clergy colleagues have been complaining about this gospel reading and seem uncertain whether and how to preach about it. It is perhaps just too strange, too supernatural with miraculous transformations, the mysterious appearance and disappearance of Elijah and Moses, and of course the voice from the cloud. It certainly confused Peter and the others: “He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.” (Mark 9:6)
But I think we need the witness of this event too. After all the one we follow is supernatural, and not just a very good social worker. The one we follow is God’s Son, God’s Beloved. And the Transfiguration is a “sign of Jesus being entirely caught up with, bathed in, the love, power and kingdom of God, so that it transforms his whole being with light,”[1] as Tom Wright describes it. Through it the disciples – and we – are granted a glimpse of Jesus in his true, glorious state.
For them and us it is reassurance on the road to calvary, for them it was a precious memory to hold onto, even when things went pear-shaped and they worried if they had been following the wrong person. We have the gift of hindsight, the gift of the gospels and so we know the whole story. But for us too it is a comforting vision foreshadowing the glory of the resurrection, that visible sign that death had no hold over Jesus and has no hold over us, even though our path, like his, goes through the cross and the tomb. And as Phil Schmidt, Steve’s associate in Frankfurt, kindly pointed out at Wednesday’s Bible study, there are already echoes of the resurrection in today’s gospel reading. Just as Peter is confused and “did not know what to say, for they were terrified” at the Transfiguration, so too the women who discovered the empty tomb were seized by terror and amazement …. “and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8) The Transfiguration links both the beginning -Jesus Baptism - and the end of Mark’s gospel.
While Paul does not specifically mention the Transfiguration in the extract from his Second Letter to the Corinthians that we also heard this morning, he still picks up the themes of light, transformation, and glory. For one thing, references such as “veiled” and the picture of God’s glory being reflected in the face of Jesus Christ are supposed to make us think of Moses’ encounter with God on Mount Sinai. When Moses came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. And unless he was speaking for or with God, he would veil his face. (Exodus 34:29-35)
At the Transfiguration, all of Jesus shines, but not with reflected light, this is the light of God from within. Paul uses light as a metaphor for the gospel or Good News of the glory of Christ. Christ’s own glory is revealed in his presence with us, in his teaching of the kingdom, and in his work of salvation. We see Jesus’ glory revealed at the Transfiguration, and through his death and resurrection. As Paul says, the god of this age or the god of this world is committed to keeping people in the dark. (2 Cor. 4:4) For me the “god of this world” stands for all the little gods we allow to have power over us: wealth, power, privilege, fear, and hate. They blind us to God’s truth; they separate us from God and one another. They feed the darkness that we all have within is, rather than the light of God that we also possess.
The Transfiguration focuses on Jesus’ transformation. St. Paul tells us that we too can shine with God’s glory! God’s light has shone in all our hearts “to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” (2 Cor. 4:6) The same God who created light in the very beginning has filled our hearts with light to help us drive out the darkness. The Father has “delivered us out of the power of darkness and translated us into the Kingdom of the Son of his love; in whom we have our redemption, the forgiveness of our sins” (Colossians 1:13-14).
We can claim that light for ourselves when we share the light of the gospel. The good news of God in Christ is not be veiled or hidden. It will not harm us, on the contrary! We will shine with the light of God when we let that gospel truth shine in our words and in our deeds. We will shine with the light of God when we look into the face of Jesus Christ with love. We can see that face any time we want in the mind of our hearts, we can see that face in the bread and wine made holy at the Eucharist, and we can see that face in every other person we seek and serve[2] as “slaves for Jesus’ sake.” (2 Cor. 4:5)
We will shine with God’s glory, true to our calling as creatures made in God’s image, when – in the words of the refrain of the hymn “I want to walk as a child of the light,” – we let Jesus shine in our hearts. I can’t help but feel that Kathleen Thomerson’s 1966 hymn was inspired by the promise of the Transfiguration, among many other biblical references. We become children of light, she writes, by following Jesus’ path – a path that is illuminated like the path of the magi at Epiphany, by a star, and “the star of my life is Jesus.” We see and are filled with the brightness of God when we look at Jesus. And finally, we look forward to that promise of the eternal joy of being in Jesus’ presence, “when we have run with patience the race,” a promise that for our brother Andy is already being fulfilled.
To finish with, here are the words of the song – you’ll have to imagine the tune:
I want to walk as a child of the light
I want to follow Jesus
God sent the stars to give light to the world
The star of my life is Jesus
In Him, there is no darkness at all
The night and the day are both alike
The Lamb is the light of the city of God
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus
I want to see the brightness of God
I want to look at Jesus
Clear sun of righteousness, shine on my path
And show me the way to the Father
In Him, there is no darkness at all
The night and the day are both alike
The Lamb is the light of the city of God
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus
I'm looking for the coming of Christ
I want to be with Jesus
When we have run with patience the race
We shall know the joy of Jesus
In Him, there is no darkness at all
The night and the day are both alike
The Lamb is the light of the city of God
Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus. Amen.
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