Readings: GN 15:5-12, 17-18; PHIL 3:17—4:1; LK 9:28B-36
Two of today’s readings contain what might be considered supernatural encounters when God is revealed in new ways. This is particularly true of the gospel reading – traditionally referred to as the Transfiguration.
The disciples who are there witness a mystical experience where they see Jesus with Moses and Elijah, and everyone is enveloped by a cloud (which makes the disciples afraid). When it all fades, it’s just Jesus there again, and the disciples are stunned from what just happened.
Let’s start with a basic admission: We have no idea WHAT happened on that mountain. Period.
But the gospel writer obviously wants us to catch a few key details. Luke has Jesus appear with Moses and Elijah. Both are major figures of the history of Israel and, at the very least, indicate that Jesus is in the tradition of these two. Moses was the great liberator and Elijah the great prophet. Jesus, by association, is both of those.
Luke’s story is also set on a mountain with clouds. Hearers at the time would also be thinking of another story where something significant happened on a mountain with a cloud (recall the 10 commandments and the first reading from Genesis ).
And finally, a voice apparently echoes what was heard at Jesus’ baptism (“this is my son”) but this time the hearers are told to, “Listen to him.”
So what does this all mean?
Mystical experiences are just that – mystical. Anytime we experience one of these, it gets really hard to figure out what exactly happened, and they definitely blur the lines of reality. So the goal of hearing this is not necessarily to “believe” that it all happened as recorded. We live in the modern era and distinguish between “fantasy” and “reality” (thinking that we can perceive reality clearly). The ancients (and other peoples) are not as stuck on those distinctions, so stories like these can be “true” even if all of the events didn’t happen EXACTLY as they are told.
I think the key line in the gospel for us to focus on is where the disciples, “had been overcome by sleep, but [became] fully awake.” And there it is.
Sleep in the scriptures is a code word. It means we are unaware of what is around us. But when we become fully awake (the word Buddha, for example, means, “I am awake!”), we experience reality as it is meant to be experienced.
The disciples wake up in the middle of the story and see clearly, and that’s our job too – especially during Lent. On this spiritual journey, how do we wake up in the middle of our stories and become conscious of the beauty of those around us, the beauty of the natural world, the wonder of our own lives? How do we say, “Yes!” to the great mystery of life and all that is around us and keep bearing witness to the beauty, the possibility and the unity in the midst of such chaos, disappointment and suffering?
I always love the poetry of David Whyte. In one of his poems, Everything is Waiting for You, I think he says what I’m trying to say today (except much more eloquently!):
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the
conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
The invitation today is the same as the day of the Transfiguration. Can we become fully awake and hear, smell, see and feel the life all around us.
We can’t always “make” ourselves wake up, but there are things we can do that help. Prayer, meditation, mindfulness, yoga and paying attention are all examples of practices that are meant to reconnect us and awaken us. Do these as often as you can….
2 Comments
Nannette Dusseault
“Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the conversation.”
Thank you, Mike! This sentence could serve to guide us as we enter what may be the waning days of the pandemic.
Francene C McCarthy
This is the time of year when many of us wake up to what is around us but the key is to be fully mindful every time of the year. I am blessed that I can still walk a mile a day and be aware, awake and full of gratitude everyday, yes even the days with squalls and single digits! Thank you for the reminder to be awake and aware and yet able to go within and feel God’s presence.
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