Transfiguration

Yesterday was Transfiguration Sunday in the United Church of Canada and it was my turn, as it is once a month, to lead worship at our little church on Bowen Island. This is the sermon I gave. Tl;dr this is about seeing and listening and honouring people, especially trans people, queer people and those in recovery who are living examples to us all and teachers of how to see.

The Transfiguration

17 And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain apart. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his garments became white as light. 3 And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Eli?jah, talking with him. 4 And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is well that we are here; if you wish, I will make three booths here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Eli?jah.” 5 He was still speaking, when lo, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” 6 When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces, and were filled with awe. 7 But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” 8 And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.

9 And as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus commanded them, “Tell no one the vision, until the Son of man is raised from the dead.” 

I was once working in South Africa.  We were hosting a workshop on participatory leadership on a small safari west of Johannesburg and the participants were a mix of community organizers from Midvaal, a township south of the city, and mostly white, middle class professors from the University of South Africa who were working together to put together online programs. This was back in 2010. 

It was Ian interesting mix of people and we had initially thought of doing to separate workshops with them, but decided that the learning and conversations would be richer if we did the work together. 

The safari was more set up for leisure and relaxation – these are resorts basically – and it had decent meeting spaces for us but they didn’t have great audio visual support.  We were a group of 40 or so people and some people had quiet voices which made it hard for everyone to hear. At one point one of the University professors called out impatiently “Can you PLEASE speak up?” To a Black woman who was trying to find her thoughts on a sensitive topic.

Now of course it can be kind to ask a person to speak up, or it could be the kind of thing that is delivered with a little frustration and perhaps some passive aggressiveness, and that was definitely the tenor of this exchange.  And there were layers upon layers of context to that little outburst.  It was delivered by a white man with no physical hearing issue sitting very far away from the speaker to a black woman who was in an incredibly vulnerable moment. One of the Midvaal organizers immediately stood up and very kindly said something like this “Hello. I would like to make a suggestion.  I would like to suggest that instead of asking our sister to speak more loudly, that we make the effort to listen lmore oudly. Come a little closer and let’s make our ears bigger so that she can continue her thought and we can open her heart to her.”  Those weren’t his exact words, but that was the feeling and the expression “Listen Loudly” has stayed with me ever since. 

Today we are given the story of the Transfiguration.  What do we know about this story? I want to suggest that this story is not about Jesus changing in any way, but rather it is a story about the disciples seeing Jesus in a different way. Like that sister in Midvaal, Jesus is just doing his thing, being himself, and he had something he wanted to tell these disciples, specifically these ones, the ones who would witness his suffering and carry his story afterwards. He was revealing what was going to happen to him, in a space that required trust and vulnerability and privacy. And so this year I am reading this story as a story about how to act in this moment. Imagine if you were one of the three chose to go with Jesus to the top of the mountain.  You might think you were privileged, or about to be told something special. You might think that the experience will validate a story you have about yourself being the MOST trusted disciples.

In other words, probably all of us would initially make it about ourselves.  Or, let me be most honest, I would probably first make it about myself. I know I would.  I would be like Peter trying to figure how I could help, what could I do?  And then God interrupts and says “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

Just listen.  Just be a loving witness.  Shut up and listen loudly to this humble carpenter who is sharing something incredible about his brilliance. It’s not about me at all.  In fact, making about me means that it is no longer about Jesus.

I want to call us to witness today. I have a theory that the angels in Bible who are revealed are just regular people who are made into angels by how they are received.  The angels that appear all through the Bible whether they appear to Lot or Mary or Abraham and Sarah or Gideon, they all come as regular people. And it only through an act of hospitality or an act of being open to reciprocity and relationship do they suddenly become revealed as angels.  Paul – who is not always my friend! – has my back here as he writes in the letter to the Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”  That was probably the quote that turned my on to this theory.  Host strangers, and let them be their brilliant selves. On their terms. In their own way.

This is not easy. It requires us to de-centre our own experience first and to centre the person we are with. It requires us to be calm and collected and hold space for what is happening. The angels always say “Do not be afraid.”  God says it in this transfiguration story.  It’s an invitation and a request. If you are afraid when someone is revealing themselves to you, the air is charged with anxiety. You will not be able to receive them with compassion and joy and support. You will still be the centre of the situation, deflecting your honest feelings of confusion and worry and channelling them into busy work. As Peter does.  As Martha does.  As we all do.  

Sitting with the strange-to-us and the stranger-to-us is not easy work. And sitting with a person in the midst of change, of complete transfiguration, when their brilliance is coming to the front and their form is changing, when they are shedding our images of who we think they are, when they are living in truth ever more deeply, this can be unsettling.  And yet, there is no greater gift than the love and friendship of a person who has changed to reveal more of their deepest and honest self and who has trusted you with that transformation and invited you to witness and stay in relationship with them.

When I realized last week that this was Transfiguration Sunday and I got to share some reflections, I got excited because I wanted to honour my friends who are gay and lesbian, who are in recovery from drugs and alcohol and especially those who are trans. My trans friends are like superheroes. As they move through their journey, as we stay in relationship, I get to see people who are more of who they really are. They are beautiful, loving, brilliant, aware, alive and full of care for a world that inflicts pain and cruelty indiscriminately.  I feel the deepest honour to know these friends, to love them and be loved by them.  They humble me, they lift me up, they enrich my world, they make our communities a better place to be. I know some bad-ass warriors of joy and courage and I am proud to call them my friends.

And I get it. It’s hard. I have friends who are parents of trans kids who grieve the little girl or boy they raised. Who love their children with all their hearts and still get their pronouns wrong.  Who worry for the journey their child is going on. But those friends are the example, because they love unconditionally and their love is returned to them reciprocally.  You can make mistakes. You can be worried for a person’s future. You can be uncomfortable with change. That’s fine. That’s natural;

We few who are gathered here, we call ourselves Christians. We follow the teachings and the example of a divine man of deep spiritual power, who took three of his closest friends into his most intimate confidence and STILL needed a safe space to reveal himself. When we sign on to this religion I believe we are called to love, witness, and support others as deeply as we can. Not perfectly, not as an example to others, but as best we can. To meet our friends and neighbours and strangers with love and curiosity and respect and most of all to “not be afraid.”

And I think we need to declare that this is a Christian thing to do. This is what we train for, because there are also people who call themselves Christians who use this religion as cover – or even a justification – for their fear. Xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia.  To me, the fear of the other is a direct violation of the invitation of angels, and the most sacred teaching about how to love our neighbours. God says “Do not be afraid.” Jesus says “Rise and have no fear.”

If you know a person in recovery you know that it is a blessing for them to tell you not to be afraid. If you know a person who is coming out to you, or who is transitioning in this world and in this time, where they will face persecution and hatred and cruel generalizations and contempt, and THAT person tells YOU not to be afraid, you are receiving a blessing. These are people who should anchor your idea of what courage looks like.. 

Friends, I don’t think I don’t get to have a relationship with the teachings of Christ if I am not making progress on listening loudly to the cries of suffering and pain in this world; if we are not witnessing the cracking of eggs as people we love become even MORE of the people we love. We are the ones who host the stranger because we know every stranger is just an angel that we haven’t met yet. 

Our job is to be authentically ourselves and then act not out of fear, but out of love. Out of togetherness. Out of knowing that each of us is a beloved child of God, doing our best and needing our friends and family to hold us up and love us in our transitions through life. None of us leave the world the way we came. We are all transfigured at some point. How do we want to be witnessed in those moments of deep transformation? How should we witness and love the other?

Listen loudly. Witness deeply. Do not be afraid. Rise and have no fear.