Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
March 3, 2019
Last Epiphany C
Last Saturday, several of us from Christ Church attended a
“Connecting Communities” workshop in Elyria.
The idea behind “Connecting Communities” is to give churches tools to
better connect with the people in the community around them. Since we have been working on doing exactly
that for the past couple of years with projects like our booth at the Hudson
Ice Cream Social, our presence at Community Day at the Farmers’ Market, our
amazing float in the Memorial Day parade, and opening our doors and our
restrooms for the Christmas Eve Frosty 5 mile run, this workshop seemed like a
great way to get some new ideas.
One of our first activities at the workshop was to share a
story of a time when we were most spiritually engaged and energized in our experience
of our local church. We had a few
minutes to think about what that experience might be, then we shared them in
our small group. Everyone else in my
group had a transformational experience of walking into an Episcopal Church
from another Christian tradition, feeling the presence of God and knowing they
were home. Your very concrete and linear
priest took the question in a more focused and recent way. I talked about the way I feel spiritually
engaged and energized when we sing a great hymn in church and Mario is going
full bore on the organ and everyone is either singing their hearts out or
simply dwelling in the music. For me,
that is a most spiritually engaging and energizing experience that sends me out
into the world to face anything.
Then, last Sunday afternoon, that very experience happened
at Roxanne Grattan’s funeral. Mario
fired up the organ for the hymn “How Great Thou Art” and the church filled with
glorious music as we sang our hearts out.
There were posts on Facebook about what an amazing experience that hymn
was, and they weren’t my posts! I was
not the only person who found our singing of that hymn to be a spiritual
experience that bound us together and helped us face the grief at hand. For me, and for others, that was a mountain
top experience. And I, for one, would
have been quite content to stay on that mountain a awhile.
This morning, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the
mountain to pray. While Jesus was at
prayer, the appearance of his face changed and his clothes became dazzling
white. Then Jesus is joined by Moses and
Elijah, and by the time the three disciples realize what is going on, Jesus,
Moses and Elijah are engaged in conversation about Jesus’ upcoming departure in
Jerusalem. Since the three disciples
were barely awake, they missed the content of the conversation. But they knew they were in the presence of
Jesus’ glory and the two people from ancient times who represented the law and
the prophets. Peter might not have heard
or understood the bit about Jesus’ impending departure, but he knew enough to
want to stop time and seize the moment, offering to build a dwelling for each
of the three men, holding the moment forever.
God has a different idea.
From a cloud, the voice of God says “This is my Son, my Chosen. Listen to him!”
Listen to him. My
concrete, linear self would like to point out that, thus far, Jesus has not said
anything. Moses and Elijah spoke with
Jesus about his departure, but Jesus does not appear to have said
anything. And when Peter offers to build
three dwellings, speaking directly to Jesus, the voice of God answers. So, what are we to listen to?
Just prior to our story this morning, Jesus has said this
to his disciples. “‘If any want to
become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and
follow me.” Peter doesn’t want to follow
Jesus. Peter wants to stay on the
mountain. But we know from the next
passage in Luke’s gospel that the three disciples do follow Jesus down the
mountain, where they will find people who need to be cleansed of unclean
spirits and healed of various diseases and infirmities. They go back down the mountain to do the work
they have been given to do and to follow Jesus on his journey to Jerusalem.
Today, we sing some of the great hymns of the church,
creating a bit of a mountain top experience for ourselves. Some days, like Peter, I don’t want to follow
Jesus down the mountain. I would prefer
to stay right here and keep singing these hymns. But we are told to listen to Jesus, and what
Jesus said is to follow him. Where Jesus
is going is to Jerusalem. So, off we go down
this mountain into the wilderness of Lent where the alleluias are buried and there
is work to be done. But today does give
us a survival kit of sorts as we head down the mountain with Jesus to follow
him on his journey.
First, like the disciples, we have seen something of the
glory of Jesus and can hold on to that, knowing that neither the Lenten
wilderness nor any other wilderness has the final word. The glory of Jesus will have the final
word. Secondly, like the disciples, we
travel together. Jesus did not go up the
mountain alone, nor did he come down alone.
He took three disciples with him.
Both the glory and the wilderness are best experienced with Jesus and
with each other. So, in a variety of
ways, we will travel down the mountain and through the wilderness
together. Lastly, like Jesus and the
disciples, we are called to engage the world around us rather than just wait
for Lent to be over and the glory of God to be raised from the dead. We follow Jesus into the wilderness where
there is a world in need of healing. Together,
we take the glory we have experienced, the glory we know, and leave this place,
our little mountain top, to follow Jesus out the door and into the world. We do not follow blindly, but we follow with
out eyes wide open, looking for the opportunities to do Jesus’ work in the
world.
So, sing your hearts out this morning or simply dwell in
the music. Experience the glory of God
in this moment. Be nourished, engaged
and energized. Then, together, we will
follow Jesus down the mountain and out the door, to make a Jesus difference in
the world, this Lent and always.
Amen.
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