Readings for the Last Sunday after the Epiphany (Year B)
This sermon was preached at Christ Episcopal Church in Eureka CA on February 11, 2018.
About 1700 years ago, a Roman emperor imprisoned a kind-hearted priest for secretly conducting weddings for young Christian couples. The emperor felt that weddings limited his supply of young male soldiers and that married men were too distracted by their wives to be worthy of his army. The kind-hearted priest, on the other hand, understood weddings as a sacred time when two people came to see each other as holy as the veil between them was lifted. In the words of the New Zealand Anglican prayer book, marriage is a time when two people “become awake to each other, aware of each other, sensitive to each other’s needs.” And in the Jewish tradition, the center of the wedding takes place when the husband and wife say to each other not “I love you,” not “I promise to cherish you,” not “Let’s live together,” but “Harei at mekudeshet li” which means, “You are holy to me.” This kind-hearted priest was willing to go to prison in order for young men and women to start seeing each other as holy. Sadly, this priest was beaten and stoned and finally beheaded by order of the emperor.
Today, this week and during this upcoming season of Lent, we are invited to uphold the priest’s work and sacrifice by learning to see each other as holy, not only our partners or spouses or significant others, but everyone. And how do we do that? How do we lift the veil between us that prevents us from seeing each other’s holiness? Today’s Gospel offers us some helpful and profound answers.
About a decade ago, I attended a Greek Orthodox Church service in Pasadena CA on the day of the Feast of the Transfiguration (which is in August). I remember the priest saying that it was not Jesus who changed on the mountain but it was the disciples’ vision that changed to see Jesus as he always was (and is), beaming with glorious light. Something happened to the disciples on top of that mountain that allowed them to see the holiness of Jesus that was always there, but was always obscured to them because of their limited vision. As the Holy Spirit dwells in us, that same holiness also beams on our faces. We just often fail to see it. So how can the Gospel help us? How can the Gospel help us practically to see each other as holy as we draw near to the season of Lent?
First, the Gospel challenges us to let go of our presumptions and prejudice. “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.’” The Gospel explains that Peter did not know what he was saying, because he was terrified (ekphoboi). Peter was clearly very nervous and felt like he needed to take control of the situation. He clumsily suggested building a tent to shelter these three glorious prophets and then found himself interrupted by a great cloud that overshadowed him and told him to “Listen!” Peter’s attempt to station and fix the glory of God into his own manageable size was thwarted by an overwhelming glory that left him speechless. (And leaving Peter speechless was no easy task!).
We often find security in putting each other in boxes. And this is a great way to miss the glory of God that dwells within each individual. Here, Peter provides a great example of how to not see each other’s holiness. Stereotyping, prejudice, racism, sexism, classism are all examples of putting each other in boxes and being tragically blind to our holiness. This kind of categorizing and compartmentalizing can severely limit our spiritual vision and block out the glory of God, which refuses to remain stuck in any box or human construct. This limited vision is the kind of spiritual blindness that Jesus talks about in chapter 9 of the Gospel of John, which we will be exploring and analyzing during our Lenten soup suppers this year, starting next Tuesday night.
The Gospel this morning also invites us to listen: “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’” Listen. One of my favorite sayings is “God gave us one mouth and two ears so that we listen twice as much as we speak.” Here, God tells Peter to stop talking, stop filling the silence with nonsense and to listen. Instead of trying to make sense of the situation by squeezing people and experiences into our limited perceptions, the divine voice invites us to be open and listen so that our vision might be expanded, expanded enough to see the Transfiguration in all of us.
Along with letting go of our prejudices and practicing the art of listening, the Gospel passage this morning invites into yet another discipline. The last verse reads: “As they were coming down the mountain, [Jesus] ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen.” You may have noticed this motif of secrecy in the Gospel of Mark in which Jesus tells people to keep his identity a secret. Last Sunday, the Gospel passage explained that Jesus “would not permit the demons to speak because they knew him.” (Mark 1:34). And after Peter confesses Jesus to be the Messiah in chapter 8, Jesus sternly orders them all to remain silent about his identity. Biblical scholars call this motif the “Messianic Secret”[1] and there is still no scholarly consensus about why Jesus actually does this in Mark.[2] As we move into the season of Lent this week, I invite us to consider one perspective on Jesus’ charge to be silent. Although words can certainly be effective in sharing love and healing and good news, silence can also be effective, sometimes more effective. St. Francis said, “Preach the Gospel always and use words only when necessary.” Perhaps part of the reason why Jesus kept telling his disciples not to go out and spread word of his miracles was because he wanted them to practice silence. Jesus knew that in order to see each other’s holiness, we need to be familiar and comfortable with silence, which creates a divine space for growth and expanded vision. According to Christian contemplative Thomas Keating, “Silence is God’s first language. Everything else is a poor translation.”
So if we let go of our presumptions and prejudice, if we practice deep listening and if we cultivate a discipline of silence, we will improve our vision and our capability of seeing God’s glory beaming in each of us. And I’m not just talking about those who are close to us, though that’s a good place to start. I’m talking about everyone, even those who we think are far from holy.
The kind-hearted priest who was imprisoned and beheaded by the emperor saw everyone as holy, even the prison guard who kept him locked up. The priest continued to open peoples’ eyes to holiness even on the day of his death. According to the legend, the priest gave the prison guard’s blind daughter a letter that miraculously healed her of her blindness. The priest signed the miraculous letter with his name and with a phrase that continues to open people’s eyes to love and holiness even to this day. He wrote, “From Your Valentine.” This priest, known today as St. Valentine, died on February 14th (which this year is also Ash Wednesday) and we are invited to honor him this week and throughout Lent by opening our eyes to see the holiness in everyone, in ourselves and above all, in Christ, who is the One who unveils our faces to see the glorious Transfiguration taking place, every day, in all of us. Amen.
[1] One of the first scholars to tackle this mystery was the early 20th century German theologian Wilhelm Wrede, who suggested that the “Messianic Secret” was added by Mark in order to account for the fact that many people did not recognize Jesus as the Messiah until after he died. Wrede thought the author of Mark was trying to answer the question, “Why was Jesus not widely recognized as Messiah during his lifetime?” In order to offer an explanation, the author of Mark, Wrede thought, put these commands to secrecy into the mouth of Jesus, thus limiting his popularity and recognition.
[2] I think one good reason is that Jesus knew how chaotic and dangerous crowds could become, especially when a celebrity is in town and especially when that celebrity is offering free health care for the sick and food for the hungry. I think he was trying to curb some of the mob madness that broiled around him.
DANIEL DeFOREST LONDON 
Wonderful, thoughtful, prayerful sermon.