Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Brother Robert James Magliula, n/OHC
BCP – Epiphany Last C - Sunday 18 Februay 2007
Exodus 34:29-35
1 Corinthians 12:27-13:13
Luke 9:28-36
Always, on this last Sunday after the Epiphany, no matter which of the three-year lectionary cycles we’re in, the gospel is one of the accounts of our Lord’s Transfiguration. As the season of Epiphany closes, the Church in her wisdom summons us to go to that secluded place, to follow Jesus, Peter, James, and John, and to experience again as for the first time that mysterious and dazzling event. The only thing we are asked to bring with us is our imagination and an openness to wonder. In this season of epiphanies this is the ultimate showing of who Jesus is.
Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Mary, the carpenter, the charismatic rabbi/healer, is encompassed in Light. The appearance of his face, like that of Moses before him, is altered. His clothes radiate the brilliance of a thousand suns. Jesus is shown as someone beyond human classification. He is not just the man from Nazareth; he is the revealed Word of God. He is the Absolute One for whom there is no equal---not even Moses or Elijah. He is the Holy One as well as the Human One. Revelation, in the economy of God, always has a purpose. Just as the voice spoke to Jesus at his baptism, so now it addresses the three disciples and all of us who come after them. In effect, the voice says that Jesus is the one in whom we can place our trust. He is God’s Chosen, the One who is to be listened to.
During our retreat last week I tried to live in and with that vision of glory in order to become clearer about the things that get in the way of my listening. Listening demands that we do some work on ourselves first. In sitting with the icon of the Transfiguration, I found that my eyes consistently wandered from the figure of Jesus to those of the disciples, who were lying in various contorted and pained positions all over that mountainside. My reactions to them ranged from sympathy and understanding to harsh judgement.
Living in a community, any community, monastic, family, school, parish, can certainly aid us in seeing and hearing the truth. But I find that it can equally distract us from that truth. We can become sidetracked by looking at, reacting to, each other, particularly in our least flattering states. We can become so engrossed, consciously or unconsciously, in our own inner response, to the other, to our ambition, our self-esteem, that our point of reference ceases to be Christ, or even the other, but only ourselves. We can see in those around us the failing, but not the person, and we certainly see no hint of the glory.
I think that it's no coincidence that every year we are given that vision of glory before entering the wilderness of Lent. Looking down the barrel of Calvary, the disciples needed to be focused. Just prior to going up the mountain, they were devastated by the prediction of Christ’s suffering and death. This was not part of their plan. Like we so often are, they were trapped in their own self centeredness. This vision shed light on that truth and gave them a larger vision and strength. It enabled them to face a future that was beyond their control or plan. None of us are strangers to the human condition. The longer we live, the more we know how little of life we can control. We all face into large and small losses. We know how imperfectly our humanity is lived out with each other---how frail our lives and relationships can be.
Benedict knew that it was possible to engage in the most extreme ascetical practices and at the same time not give up the tyranny of self absorption, self-deception, and self-centeredness. "To hear" and "to obey" are taken from the same root in Latin. The most consistent ascetical practice running through the Rule is obedience. When Benedict calls on his disciples to listen, it isn't only about hearing the word of God with our ears. It's not only message, but event and encounter. In a wider sense, it's about recognizing signs, about paying attention. Until we can listen and hear ourselves, we can not listen to God or each other.
Paying attention to our bodies, our emotions, the rhythms, demands, and needs, must be taken seriously. The ache in my back or head, my anger or boredom, need not necessarily be dismissed with stoic fortitude. It may be telling me about tension and strain, a signal that it's time to stop or start something. We also need to be attentive to our reaction to what we hear. Is it the last thing in the world that I want to hear? Is it disagreeable or threatening? Does it reassure me or frighten me? When we begin to pick and choose what we will hear, we are in fact turning a deaf ear to the many unexpected and perhaps unacceptable ways in which the Word of God is trying to reach us.
Learning to deal with my own limitations makes me better able to deal with those of others. Knowing my own limitations, I am more inclined---at my best times---not to harshly judge other people for theirs. It also helps me to trust someone elses' strengths which help me with my weakness.
Paul gives us evidence of God’s presence in the community of disciples as manifested through the gifts of the Spirit. In that great hymn to, for, and about love, we are reminded that being loveable is not what determines community. Selfless concern for the other is the result of being able to hear and be obedient to God’s love. Paul reminds us that none of us possess all gifts but all have access to the most excellent and enduring one, which is love. He goes on to list the qualities of love, which are what build up community: patience, kindness, gentleness, endurance, truth, and rejoicing in the best for others. Love is the closest we can come to being co-creators with God, of seeing, knowing and showing the glory of God. All of our talents and gifts have their function and use in this world, but in the end, only love remains.
This vision of glory let those first disciples know that in that moment, they lived in God and God lived in them---no matter where or in what condition they found themselves on that mountainside. It is here and now that God’s light shines in Christ and through him in us. Life itself is one never-ending series of epiphanies. Each encounter contains the invitation to move on to greater growth, deeper commitment. These God-moments happen with more frequency than we may think. That's why being attentive is essential if we mean to find ourselves, each other, and the God we seek. Rather than making us loose touch with reality, these God-moments give us the strength and the vision to see and live the greatest and truest reality of all.
+Amen.
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