Sunday, March 3, 2019

Transitions


A Sermon preached on the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, March 3, at St. Augustine’s Wiesbaden
Exodus 34: 29 – 35, 15; 2 Corinthians 3: 12 – 4: 2, 42-50; Luke 9: 28 – 43a

Our Gospel reading this morning is all about the event we call the Transfiguration: that moment on a mountain top, traditionally Mount Tabor, when Jesus is physically transformed so that “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” (Luke 9:29) And as a key part of this experience, Moses and Elijah appear and are seen to be talking with Jesus. At the Wednesday Bible Study, one of the questions asked about this episode was, why did Moses and Elijah appear? Another one was, and how did Peter, John and James recognize them?
Moses and Elijah stand for the law and the prophets. The Gospel writers always emphasize that Jesus came to fulfill the law and that he stands in the succession of the prophets. When Jesus is asked (Matthew 22:36-40) which commandment in the law is the greatest and introduces the great commandment (love God and love your neighbor as yourself), he says that “On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” Moses and Elijah’s presence is physical proof that Jesus’ teaching and the path he is now on, the path that is leading him to Jerusalem, is in accordance with God’s previous revelation.
And how did they recognize them? Not because Elijah had parked the chariot of fire he had been taken up to heaven with, nor because every bit of shrub spontaneously caught fire. If you were expecting any Old Testament figure to appear, as a faithful Jew in Jesus’ day, it would be Moses and Elijah. Moses had died, but mysteriously. “He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab …. but no one knows his burial place to this day.” (Deuteronomy 34:6) And for that reason some Jewish teachers taught that he had not died but was taken up into heaven like Elijah. Also, Moses himself had predicted (Deut. 18:15) that “God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people.” According to the Book of Kings (2 Kings 2:11), Elijah certainly did not die, but ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. To this day at Passover meals a place is set for Elijah.  And when Jesus asks, (Luke 9:18-19) “Who do the crowds say that I am?’ (The disciples) answered, ‘John the Baptist; but others, Elijah; and still others, that one of the ancient prophets.” Their appearance on the mountain top is also a further sign that Jesus is not Elijah returned, or the second Moses, but someone much greater: God’s Son, God’s Chosen.
It is unique to the Anglican/Episcopal tradition that we always have the story of the Transfiguration, and some closely related readings from Exodus and one of Paul’s letters, on the last Sunday after the Epiphany. We have a Feast Day of the Transfiguration, but not until 6th August. And the other churches that use the RCL won’t have today’s readings until the second Sunday in Lent. But I think our choice makes a lot of sense. This Sunday acts as a hinge between Epiphany and Lent. This story connects the Epiphany themes of the light of Christ and of his revelation, with the Lenten theme of the way of the Cross, the road to Jerusalem, to “his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:31) At the Transfiguration, Jesus’ path to glory through the Cross is confirmed by God. The story is a segue, “a smooth transition,” from one season and from theme into another.
But there is another important segue in this extract too. In all three Gospels, the Transfiguration is immediately followed by a healing episode. The story does not end on the top of the mountain, nor does Jesus get to go straight to Jerusalem. He comes down from the mountain and is met by a great crowd. And from that crowd a man, a loving and caring father, shouts, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child.” (Luke 9:38) His son suffers from uncontrollable fits: the story talks about a demon spirit, the symptoms sound like epilepsy. He even has a fit while Jesus and the father are talking. No one, not even Jesus’ disciples, has been able to heal him and so Jesus must act: “he rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father." (Luke :42)
Meeting human needs immediately follows the encounter with God. In fact, the two are connected. As we know from the Old Testament, the form of worship acceptable to God is never just something isolated, nor a stand-alone ritual: In Proverbs (21:3) we are told that “to do righteousness and justice is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice,” and according to the prophet Hosea (6:6) God “desires steadfast love and not sacrifice.” While even Jesus seems a little frustrated that his transcendental mountain-top experience is over, that is not where we can stay. We have to come down, or in our case, every Sunday, we have to go out into a broken and hurting world. The two belong together: in worship we encounter God in Word and Sacrament, in the Eucharist we are strengthened and renewed, but it is also in the act of healing and mercy that the greatness of God is shown.
At the Transfiguration, Jesus’ commissioning by God is renewed, using very similar words to those God spoke at his Baptism. “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” (Luke 9:35) At the Transfiguration, Jesus’ mission, what he was sent for, is confirmed. He has been sent to transform the world and to heal the world, this is what he will accomplish at Jerusalem in his death on the cross, when our own sin dies with him, and in his resurrection, when we rise again with him, given new life and renewed for mission.
The voice from the cloud says, “listen to him, listen to Jesus!” His commission to us is to love God and to love one another. His mission to us is to go into the world, to tell people about the love of God and to show this love to the world. The disciples may have “kept silent and told no one any of the things they had seen,” but that is not our role, we must speak and act.
World Mission Sunday, which as I mentioned in my weekly email is commemorated today, reminds us of the many different ways we can and should act:
Helping those in need, advocating for the disenfranchised, supporting migrants, working with children, the elderly, or the marginalized of society. Our church reminds us that it is as important to care for the elderly next-door neighbor and for the poor in our neighborhood, as it is to look beyond ourselves and our own cultural and geographic context. To care for those who are in desperate economic situations, those living in war zones, those who are victims of famine, victims of oppression, victims of violence, victims of injustice, and the homeless and migrants of the world.[1]
We cannot each do everything on this list, which is not even exhaustive. But whether through some little act of compassion or friendship, through regular participation in one of our outreach ministries, or through our financial support of the ministries of our worldwide church, our worship of God is not complete if we do not give the world some sign of God’s love. To see and encounter God, as Peter, John and James did on the mountain top, and as we do here in worship, is to be changed – changed for good.
Amen.


[1] Examples taken from: https://www.episcopalchurch.org/posts/globalpartnerships/following-way-love

Sunday, February 17, 2019

Blessed are you ....


A Sermon preached on Epiphany VI, Feb. 17, at St. Augustine’s Wiesbaden
Jeremiah 17:5-10, 1 Corinthians 15:12-20, Luke 6:17-26

I subscribe to a quarterly publication called “The Anglican Theological Review.” The last edition was all about preaching and one of the articles, entitled “Two Thousand Years of Great Sermons,” looked at 10 examples of great sermons. The first one in that list was Luke’s Sermon on the Plain, the extract from Luke’s Gospel we just heard this morning.
Why is this sermon great? Apart of course from the fact that our Lord and Savior Jesus preached it! According to the author of the article, one thing that makes it effective is its structure. “The parallel structure (four “Blessed are the”; four contrasting “Alas for you”) make it easy to understand when heard, easy to remember.”[1] Sound advice, I shall try and remember it myself.
The other great sermon element Jesus uses is paradox, which means “an idea contrary to common opinions and popular belief, and Jesus first words are precisely that,”[2] contrary to popular belief. Now there’s a lot of paradox in Christianity. Death is new life. The last shall be first. Jesus is fully divine and fully human. From Arianism onwards, the belief that Jesus was just another created being, albeit the first one, heresy always arises from the refusal of paradox, and from the desire for simple, black and white answers.
Where is the paradox in Jesus’s Sermon on the Plain? Well surely, Jesus’ listeners will have thought, and most people still think today, that it is the rich, the well-regarded, the well fed, and those who have reason to laugh who are blessed or we could just say happy, because that is what the original word also means. After all, is not prosperity also a sign of God’s favor, perhaps even of God’s election or selection? That is certainly what the rich and powerful have always liked to think. But Jesus turns this logic on its head. It is the poor, the hungry, those who weep, and those who are hated on account of the Son of Man who are blessed and have reason to be happy. And instead the rich, the full, those who are spoken well of who need to worry.
Jesus is not saying that poverty is a good thing or that the poor should just suffer in silence, and simply look forward to some future reward: that would be religion as the opium of the masses as Karl Mark once described it. In his view, religion reduced people's immediate suffering and provided them with pleasant illusions, while preventing them from seeing the oppression around them, and the need for radical change. No, when Jesus says that you are blessed when people “hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man,” (Luke 6:22) he is issuing a call to speak up for change in his name, just as the prophets of old spoke of for change and for justice, and were persecuted for it. And that change and his agenda of the kingdom of God is not meant for the hereafter but starts in the here and now.
That is why Jesus goes on to warn the rich and the powerful and the complacent that they are in trouble with God, unless they change. He wants change, he wants everyone to love God and their neighbor. You do not love your neighbor if your wealth comes from his or her poverty, and on a global scale that is really where much of our prosperity comes from today. And you do not love your neighbor if you make no effort to change this situation, to fill the hungry and to give them a reason to laugh.
That has not changed at all in the last two thousand years. Recently, we and our societies seem to have become more selfish, ever more unwilling to share our abundance with others. Take the issue of refugees for example. It sometimes seems as if our discussions are now only about how to keep those who flee from war and poverty out or send them back as quickly as possible. And in some countries, most recently the UK, International Aid is being redefined simply as a policy or business promotion tool: In a recent paper from a Conservative Party think-tank, the authors argue the UK “should be freed to define its aid spending unconstrained by criteria set by external organizations,” (by which they mean not keeping to the already pitiful and minuscule 0.7% spending goal on aid), and the purpose of such aid should be expanded from poverty reduction include “the nation’s overall strategic goals.”[3] So we won’t help poor people where they, and we won’t let them in to our countries either. Woe indeed to us all!



But this passage is not just about morals and ethics, important as they are. There is another layer of meaning, another reason for the paradox of upside-down blessings and woes, and it is spiritual. In the Old Testament passage we heard first, from Jeremiah, that prophet talks about just one woe or curse and one blessing, not four of each. Being Jeremiah, he starts with the bad news. “Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the Lord.” (Jeremiah 17:5) That was how he felt most of the people of Jerusalem and Judah were thinking and acting. That they could rely on their own strength and might, and on clever political alliances to keep them safe. They still went to the Temple and made sacrifices, but that was just lip-service. In their hearts they did not think they needed God. But the Lord tests the mind and searches the heart and can see through such an outward show of devotion. Only those “who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord” (17:7) are blessed, Jeremiah says.
Jesus calls the poor blessed, because they knew they had nothing to expect from the world, but everything to expect from God, and from the kingdom of God that Jesus promises. He holds them up as an example, nor for their poverty, but for their attitude, and their willingness to look to God, and to turn to God for help. Those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord, are the ones who are also willing to undergo the spiritual transformation God offers, making us the fully human beings we are intended to be as creatures made in God’s image.
When Jesus issues his four woes, his four warnings to the rich and the powerful he is also warning them against relying completely on themselves and on their material possessions. Later in Luke’s Gospel (12:13-21) Jesus will use the parable of the rich fool to give us the same message: This was the man who pulled down all his barns to build larger ones. “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich towards God.”
Watch out, Jesus warns. Your seeming blessedness is actually a great danger. It won’t save you. Don’t fall into the trap of believing that material wealth is all you need. Don’t fall into the trap of believing that you do not need the other. And don’t fall into the trap of believing that you do not need God. It will come back to haunt you, in this life and in the next.
Jesus wants everyone, rich and poor alike, Jew and Gentile, man and woman to return to a right relationship with God. The beatitudes, especially the teachings that follow this passage that focus on unconditional, sacrificial love are how God wants us to behave in the kingdom Jesus inaugurates. Put simply, loving God and our neighbor. According to today’s Collect, God is the strength of all who put their trust in him. With the help of God’s grace, and only with that help, not on our own, not with our own power, we can overcome our weakness and our brokenness, keep the commandments, especially the great commandment of love, and will please God both in will and deed. Blessed are those who trust in the Lord.
Amen.


[1] The Anglican Theological Review, Winter 2019, Volume 101, “Context, Craft, and Kerygma: Two Thousand Years of Great Sermons,” Clair W. McPherson, 12
[2] Ibid
[3] https://www.theweek.co.uk/99505/what-is-in-new-blueprint-for-foreign-aid-endorsed-by-boris-johnson