"Transformed In Hope" February 26, 2006 The Transfiguration of Our Lord

(First read the text for this sermon: Mark 9:2-9)

I nearly cancelled my home delivery of the New York Times a couple of weeks ago. It’s because I was in despair. I confess to you that I was so depressed by what is going on in the world, that I did not want to know, in New York Times detail, how bad things are!

Think of Africa. Now drought and famine are affecting Tanzania and Kenya and Somalia.

Think of the Middle East, with the election of Hamas in Palestine.

Think of the cost of the war in Iraq, with no light yet at the end of the tunnel.

Think of Iran and its nuclear ambitions. Think of how our nation’s oil slurping habits mean that we’re funding governments that sponsor the very terrorism we’re fighting.

Does all of this make you despair? Or am I the only one?

I tell you this: it is easy to forget that the gospel message defies the world’s despair! This morning, for instance, we read a gospel story that provides an alternative reality. The story declares God’s reality that breaks apart human assumptions. We read a story of transfiguration, of transformation.

Six days later, we read (that is, six days after Jesus has “told his disciples that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again”[1]), Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He did not know what to say, for they were terrified.

There is a lot going on in this story. You remember that, in the gospel of Mark, the action happens fast and furious. “Immediately” and “just then” and “suddenly” are favorite words used by this gospel writer, to describe the calling of disciples, and healings, and Jesus’ confrontations with the forces of evil. But here’s something else to remember: in Mark’s version of the Jesus story, Jesus is doing and saying all of those things, but his followers don’t understand who he is and what he is up to! Throughout Mark, Jesus cannot break apart his followers’ assumptions of how the world works. They are not open to what he is doing and saying! Their misunderstandings are comical, in a tragic sort of way! (We could get into that if this was a Bible study.)

Perhaps it’s enough to remember that just six days before this morning’s story, Jesus had told his disciples that he must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again – and Peter speaks for the rest of the disciples when he says to Jesus, “Oh, no! That can’t happen to you!” Isn’t this a stunning thing? Jesus’ most intimate friends and followers do not know what God is doing through Jesus.

And so we come to this morning’s story. It’s a story which presents God’s point of view of what God is doing through Jesus![2] Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

There is rich imagery here. Think of what happens up on a high mountain in a pivotal story in Hebrew Scripture. If this reminds you of Mt. Sinai, and God’s call to Moses, giving Moses the 10 Commandments and the rest of the holy law, then I think you’re right with the author of Mark and the connection he’s making. Indeed, in this story from Mark, who appears, along with Jesus? There is Moses himself! Moses is the one who provided the foundation of all religious life for God’s people at the time of Jesus; in the story, there he is, right there with Jesus! And that’s not all. Elijah is there, too, in the vision. Some of God’s people expect Elijah to return, just before the messiah is to appear.

It’s Peter and James and John who are with Jesus on this high mountain. There are petrified by this vision! They struggle to understand what is going on. (That’s true throughout Mark, remember). In his misunderstanding, Peter says to Jesus, "Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. That’s the best Peter can do in trying to figure out what’s going on: this must be a holy place, and, like in the annual Hebrew festival of booths, they should make dwellings so they can all stay here forever, worshiping at this holy place. That’s what Peter is thinking.

But to add to their fear and confusion, Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" (God’s point of view is stated explicitly, you see.) And when they look up, quivering with dread and shock, Jesus is alone! Jesus is alone! That means Jesus is greater than Moses, the one who provided the foundation of all religious life for God’s people! And Elijah is gone too! There is no need for the forerunner. The messiah is here!

What richness there is in this story! What befuddlement there is, in the heads of Peter and James and John. But here is why I think the disciples are such numbskulls in the gospel of Mark: it is the author’s way of asking us whether we understand what’s going on. The stories put you and me on the spot: The disciples are clueless, but do you and I know who Jesus is? The disciples are entirely out of it, but do you and I know what God is doing in the human flesh of Jesus?

God’s alternate reality has broken in, through Jesus. Certainly, what God is doing is beyond our capacity to explain fully, or to understand completely. But the gospel writer is challenging you and me: do you give yourself to this Good News that has broken apart our assumptions? Or do we resist it, as the disciples did? Which brings us back to despair. Where are you stuck? Where do you feel hopeless? How do you need to be freed from fearfulness and myopia? Where do you need to be transfigured, transformed, changed into people who see God’s presence in everyday life?

Walter Brueggemann puts it this way: “the [Biblical] story concerns an alternative vision of the life of the world under the rule of the slave-freeing, wound-healing, covenant-making God. This alternative vision is rooted in the will and purpose of God; but it is practiced concretely in risky, bodily acts by the people of this God.[3]

When the Holy Spirit moves within and among us, to open us to what God is doing, we are transformed in hope. And that shows up in how we live, in defiance of despair.

Listen to these words, which end this morning’s story: As they were coming down the mountain, [Jesus] ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. Remember Peter’s initial impulse: to build worship dwellings and to stay on top of this holy mountain forever? Instead, Jesus takes them right back down the mountain – right back into their daily lives. And Jesus even tells his closest followers, “Don’t tell anyone about this until the end of my story. I don’t want people to get the wrong idea: that I’m just a worker of sensational religious visions!”

Instead (and this is the point of the whole Epiphany season), we see that Jesus is God in human flesh – and we see that in the nitty-gritty of our everyday human lives. As Brueggemann puts it, “Jesus’ ministry makes clear that the rescue and rehabilitation of creation is not done in one huge salvific act; it is rather done leper-by-leper, widow-by-widow, and neighbor-by-neighbor.”[4]

God breaks apart our assumptions that nourish despair. We are transformed in hope! Our eyes are opened. And what we see is Emmanuel, God with us, active, transfiguring, in our fleshly, daily lives.

In the name of God who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.


Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia
[1] Mark 8:31
[2] To use a concept of Jack Dean Kingsbury’s in his book, Mark as Story.
[3] Walter Brueggemann, “Mission as Hope in Action” in Journal for Preachers, Lent 2001, page 20. (Italics in the original.)
[4] Ibid.

"Shame, Cleansing, Healing" February 12, 2006 Epiphany 6

First read, the sermon text: Mark 1:40-45

“You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Did anyone ever say that to you when you were a child? Perhaps one of your parents, or a teacher? (The variant, of course, is the question: “Aren’t you ashamed?”)

Shame is something that carries through into adulthood, of course. That’s true, even among us who are gathered here! Now, you would never know that by looking at each other. We all clean up so well for Sunday mornings! Because we work so hard to look good, it is not unusual that someone comes to me to talk of a failing she’s ashamed of – and it has taken a great deal of courage for her to raise the subject with me. Because, from all appearances, it’s obvious that she’s the only one in the congregation with anything to be ashamed of! Just look around! To all appearances, each one of us has it all together, right?

In this morning’s story from Mark, a man has the immense courage to approach Jesus. He is drawn to Jesus because he is in desperate crisis. The man is an outcast member of the people of God because he has leprosy.

There’s not much leprosy in the world anymore, but during the centuries the Bible was being produced, leprosy was a major issue for God’s people. For instance, in the rule book of Leviticus, chapter 13 includes 59 verses stipulating how to detect leprosy! There is great detail in these instructions, including the close examinations that must be made “when a person has on the skin of his body a swelling or an eruption or a spot,” or when “there is a white swelling in the skin that has turned the hair white,” and when there is a boil on the skin but “in the place of the boil there appears a white swelling or a reddish-white spot” – and on and on and on, for 59 verses!

Do you know who must make these close examinations? The priest! That’s because the issue is the proper condemnation of filth and defense of purity. A person suffering from leprosy is made unclean by the disease, and unfit to be in the presence of God and of God’s people. And so, in chapter 14 of Leviticus, there are 57 verses instructing how the priest is to go about purifying a person who has been healed of leprosy. In the case of leprosy, healing is not enough. The person must be cleansed before he can be permitted back into God’s presence!

(Does this offend you – the notion that a sick person is made unclean by his illness? It should, because Jesus spent his ministry demolishing the carefully constructed religious system protecting purity! And so, following the model of Jesus, we must read everything in Leviticus, including passages concerning homosexuality, with a very critical eye.)

Be that as it may, according to the holy law in force during Jesus’ lifetime, contact with a leper meant that the ritual dirtiness was communicated by contact! According to Leviticus,[1] the leper had a responsibility to protect others from his filth! He had to keep his distance, and to cry out, “Unclean! Unclean!” And so, in the story from Mark, the leper’s approach to Jesus is desperate. It is audacious.

With that as background, in the story, notice what the man does and what he asks. And notice what Jesus does – which is highly offensive! A leper came to [Jesus] begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!" Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.

First off (and easy to miss), the man is drawn to Jesus. So that how it starts, because it always begins with God’s initiative, in God’s grace. God draws the man to God’s self.

“If you choose…” the man says. What faith he shows – and this demonstrates more initiative by God, because faith is created by God![2]

Now, watch. What does the man ask for? Healing of his leprosy? No! The man asks for cleansing. Just sit with that for a moment! Cleansing.

Then, what does Jesus do? Jesus stretches out his hand and touches the man! Jesus, God in human flesh, touches a man with leprosy! How stunning. How startling. How offensive – according to the accepted holy law of Jesus’ day.

This story shatters so many of our basic assumptions, as well. This stuff is incendiary. The story opens our eyes to how God is working among us, in our human flesh. In Jesus, God enters into whatever there is in our human lives that we are ashamed of, whatever it is that makes us feel dirty, to bring healing and cleansing.

This morning’s story from Mark (and many other stories in the gospels) demonstrate that Jesus was sent from God to demolish all the prescriptions in Leviticus for purification and cleansing. Jesus’ words and actions proclaim that there are no hoops to jump through.

(Actually, God communicated this grace and openness long before Jesus took on our human flesh. The Hebrew Scriptures – the Old Testament – are full of grace. For instance, think of how God offends Naaman, in this morning’s first reading from 2 Kings![3] What a great story that is! Naaman is a powerful adviser to a foreign king. But he has leprosy, and his king sends Naaman to Israel, to the prophet Elisha because he’s heard that Elisha speaks for a God who can cure Naaman of the disease.

(Naaman has come prepared to pay a high price for the cure! We read in the story that he’s journeyed with horses and chariots, and has brought along ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. But remember what Elisha does? He doesn’t even come out to see Naaman! Elisha simply sends word, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored and you shall be clean.”

(What’s Naaman’s reaction? Do you remember? He’s offended – because it’s too easy! But the same point is made in this reading, from Hebrew Scripture, as in the story from Mark. God enters right into whatever it is in our human lives that is shameful, and dirty, bringing healing and cleansing. God draws us to God’s self.)

So, what is it that you cover up -- from others, and even most of the time from yourself? That’s an intense question! Let me ease into it, by reading Frederick Buechner’s classic description of some worshipers in a typical congregation, at the moment just before the preacher begins the sermon:

"In the front pews the old ladies turn up their hearing aids, and a young lady slips her six year old a Lifesaver and a Magic Marker. A college sophomore home for vacation, who is there because he was dragged there, slumps forward with his chin in his hand. The vice-president of a bank who twice that week has seriously contemplated suicide places his hymnal in the rack. A pregnant girl feels the life stir inside her. A high-school math teacher, who for twenty years has managed to keep his homosexuality a secret for the most part even from himself, creases his order of service down the center with his thumbnail and tucks it under his knee."[4]

And all of you: even though you look to all the world that you have it all together, what experiences do you bring with you as we gather together here in this place? Do you bring experiences of sexual abuse suffered? (Some of us do.) Do you bring before the altar struggles with addiction? (That is true for some of us.) Do you bring gnawing memories of dishonesty, or regrets over other past actions and brokenness that cause you to be ashamed?

In the story from Mark, a man is drawn Jesus. According to God’s holy law in place at the time, the man is considered filthy, impure! But his coming to Jesus is a sign that God is working in that man’s life. God has created in him that need for God! And Jesus, God in human flesh, touches the wound and makes the man whole! Healed! Clean!

In the same way, God has drawn you and me here, and we bring with us our own wounds, whatever it is that makes us ashamed, whatever it is that makes us feel dirty, whatever it is that causes us to beat ourselves up with regret and self-recrimination.

Just as in the story from Mark, God draws you and me close.

Whatever it is that makes you feel unclean, God enfolds you in arms of love!

And when we deny our worth, and reject ourselves, as we struggle against God’s grace and forgiveness, God holds us tighter in those arms of love.

God holds us until we are still.

God says to you and me: “I love you. I want to make you whole. So, be still. Let yourself be loved!”

In the name of God, who is Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.


Pastor Andy Ballentine
St. Stephen Lutheran Church
Williamsburg, Virginia
[1] Leviticus 13:35
[2]See Luther’s explanation to the Third Article of the Creed in the Small Catechism.
[3] 2 Kings 5:1-14
[4] Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel As Tragedy, Comedy and Fairy Tale (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1977), page 22.