The Transfiguration

Seeing His Glory

 

(From a funeral homily preached today, on the Feast of the Transfiguration)

Martin, after death, is not closer to the Lord than he was before ~ even though he, himself, may now feel closer. This is at least in part because he now sees the Lord in a way that we do not. Yet, after Baptism, God is in us, and we are in him ~ always. And then, at death, this bud of truth comes to full flower. For, through death, our departed loved ones come to experience the Lord’s nearness in an especially profound way… and, in a way they have never really glimpsed before. We can imagine their joy at this moment. Suddenly, they are overcome by that same sense of startling nearness that our ancestor Jacob had, upon waking from his famous dream. “Surely,” he exclaimed, “the Lord is in this place — and I did not know it!” And then he said, “how awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven.” On Friday, July 26, this may have been Martin’s sudden and blessed realization.

Martin saw himself, in his life and work as a physician, as a tool in God’s hands. Martin’s self-perception about his vocation fits well with themes in John‘s Gospel. John boldly tells us that “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” The disciples knew from their own experience the power of these words, as this feast day of Jesus’ Transfiguration reminds us. Their experience was confirmed again at the Last Supper, when Jesus told them how he was the way, and the truth, and the life.

Jesus then said this: “If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him… Whoever has seen me has seen the Father… [And] very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these…”

That Martin perceived his vocation as a physician to be a form of ministry fits well with Jesus’ words in John. For as the Word became flesh in Jesus, so too —through his gift of himself to us— the Word continues to become flesh in us. The Word becomes flesh in our lives and work, as well as in our relationships with each other. As this happens, the Word takes what at first may seem frail and weak, and builds it up into an expression of God’s own shining glory.

In this moment, Martin now knows these things better than we do. He knows how Jesus is the Way, and the Truth, and the Life. And Martin now sees, in a way that we cannot, how Jesus is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end, and the one who makes all things new. As the Lord attests through the words of Revelation, the dwelling place of God is now among people ~ even among those who do not readily perceive God’s nearness to us. We can journey forward, believing that —for God’s faithful people— life is changed, not ended. We are God’s faithful people. And, just like Martin, our lives have been changed by God’s Holy Spirit. Having been changed, we, too, are now ready to see his glory, and enter into eternity.

For Jesus says to us, “I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.”

 

The image above is of James Tissot’s painting, Jesus Goes Up Alone Onto a Mountain to Pray. This post is based on my homily for the funeral of Martin Landis, which can be accessed by clicking here.  Other homilies of mine may be accessed by clicking here. The Revised Common Lectionary, which specifies the readings for Sundays and other Holy Days, can be accessed by clicking here.

The Unveiling of Glory

 

 

According to Exodus, Moses started putting a veil over his face when he would come down the mountain to speak to his fellow-Israelites. But he would not wear the veil when he talked with God, up above. So, in this part of Exodus, the veil provided protection. It would protect those who were unused to, or unprepared for, the power of God’s immediate presence. Paul, in 2 Corinthians, extends and also alters this idea of the veil. Instead of it being a means to protect God’s people from a direct encounter with divine glory, the veil has become in Paul’s letter a kind of impediment. When our hearts and minds are not open to God, nor sensitive to God’s power, we become hardened. We become hardened in such a way that our hearts and minds are veiled, preventing us from perceiving God’s glory.

But Christ has set aside this veil. As a result, “all of us, with unveiled faces, {see} the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror.” And we “are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another, for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.”

The Transfiguration of Jesus is all about the unveiling of God’s glory. Jesus takes Peter, John and James up with him on a mountain to pray. While he is praying, the appearance of his face changes, as does his clothing. In contrast with the Exodus and Pauline images of light reflecting off a surface, Luke presents God’s glory as coming from within Jesus. In other words, his is a radiating glory rather than a reflected one. Luke tells us that Moses and Elijah, who appear with him, appear in his glory. This may mean that Jesus has shared his glory with them in a way that prefigures what he will share with all of his followers.

This should lead us to ask a good question: If we feel like there is a veil between us and the divine presence, where does this veil lie? Does God ‘hide’ behind a veil, either to protect us, or challenge us? Or is the veil within ourselves? Is it formed by our spiritual blindness and lack of openness to the glory imparted by the Spirit? Paul suggests that our experience may be like that of the earlier Israelites, for whom hard-heartedness caused them to be blind to the bright light of God’s glorious presence, whether in Moses’ face or when reading and hearing the Law. Hard-heartedness can be equally blinding for us, veiling the glory that is all around us.

And where, according to Paul, do we find this glory? We find it in the faces of everyone who has been open to God’s transforming Holy Spirit. In other words, we find it in each other, as well as in ourselves. For this reason it can be like looking in a mirror, as the glory that we will perceive in others is the same glory that they can perceive within us.

 

The paintings above are James Tissot’s, Moses and the Ten Commandments, and The Transfiguration. This post is based on my homily for Sunday, March 3, 2019, which can be accessed by clicking here.  Other homilies of mine may be accessed by clicking here. The Revised Common Lectionary, which specifies the readings for Sundays and other Holy Days, can be accessed by clicking here.