Today’s Gospel Story (Luke 9:28b-36) is Jesus transfigured in the presence of some of his disciples. As usual, there are both the majority report, what the Story has traditionally been understood to say, and the minority report, what the Story says to me in my daily living here and now. There can be quite a difference between the two. The Transfiguration Story traditionally has been understood to be about Jesus, as well as his disciples, coming to know who he was. The minority report helps me come to know Jesus as he is in my daily living, in the setting of all that is going on in and around me. This might be a surprising experience, if I am open to being surprised.
One way of prayerfully reading the Gospel Stories comes from Ignatius. It involves putting myself in the middle of the story and imagining myself as the different persons in the story. Jesus, as I pray the Story, I see myself walking up the mountain with you, Peter, James, and John. I’m not sure why you have me along, but I am thankful that you do. I watch you change into a bright figure, talking with Moses and Elijah about what will happen to you in Jerusalem where you will suffer, die, and rise. And the cloud comes. I hear the voice say, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him”.
“Thus is my chosen Son, listen to him.” Jesus, I want to listen to you, but I don’t know what you are saying to me in my here and now today. Maybe I need to quit analyzing myself and just try to be open, waiting for everything. I feel like I’m standing with you in the cloud that is obscuring everything around us. It’s just you and me and Whoever. I am filled with wonder, with doubt, with questioning. Outside the cloud there is tremendous suffering in our country and throughout the world, and a lot of it is because of what our country is doing. Evil is showing its own face. It is easier to point fingers and blame others than it is to see my own part in this face. Psalm verse, “The Lord is my light and my salvation”. I believe this wholeheartedly, but I don’t know what it means these days. What is your light showing me? What is salvation in the midst of all this horror?
I’m an old man, an old soldier with health issues that pretty much limit what I can do. I live in a safe, clean, happy place, with lots of people my own age to play with, and I don’t want the evil nastiness outside to ever get in here. These days I pretty much try to live the Gospel where I am in this community. The other day I had an enjoyable conversation with one of the other residents about why she always has a beautiful smile on her face when she comes up for Communion. She said it is because she is so overjoyed with receiving you into her heart. A beautiful response. She might not know who your are, but she certainly does know you by experience that goes beyond words and definitions. Her face makes this very clear. She reminds me that in the midst of all the evil and suffering there is hope.
Psalm: “The LORD is my life’s refuge“. Easy for me to say. I’m not in fear of losing my job, or being picked up and jailed for something somebody says I did, or because I don’t have “papers”. I don’t need to travel dangerous long distances to find a place of safety for my wife and children. I’m not being condemned for how I see myself or who I love. I am not a victim of ethnic cleansing. Yet all around me this is happening to real people created in your image, and caused by real people also created in your image. What are you saying to me.?
As I stand here in the cloud with you, I see you transfigured as some folks I just don’t want in my life these days. You are making it very clear that when I say no to them I am saying no to you. I know what you are asking me to do, but honestly I don’t know if I can or will. I really need your help. As hard as this may be for me personally, it is nowhere near what others are suffering throughout the world.
“They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.” How could they tell anyone? Who would believe it? Perhaps silence is the only response to this Story. A silence of awe and trust, certainly not of fear. When I realize you are involved in my everyday living, there are no words to describe or talk about it. There is only a truthful silence of loving and grateful awe.
During Lent there is a constant call to repent, to change where I look for my happiness, an ongoing journey of conversion. The call is there without doubt, and the Spirit leads me if I am open to her doing this, which I hope I am. She has led me to many unexpected places, situations, relationships, not all of which were enjoyable, but every one of which has been a necessary part of my journey. I wouldn’t change a thing.
I had my own experience of Transfiguration during my heart attack in my car in the parking lot of where I live. As it began, and I was unwrapping the nitro pill, I remember “so this is how it ends . . .”, “no, this is how it begins”. I experienced indescribable peace — I felt no sense of power or control, only a profound peace, calm, good. As Peter wanted to build tents and stay there, I would have loved to stay there in that peace. I have no idea how long I just sat. Eventually I “woke up” and took the nitro pill. Things happened fast after that — ER, CICU, medical procedures, wonderful people, etc. As I am walking down the mountain with you the sense of peace is still with me, less profound, yet very real. The whole thing continues to be a life changing experience. As your friends remember what had happened and wonder what it means, these days I’m doing the same. I really don’t know. It might be that transfiguration is less an event than an ongoing process to which I can consent, or not, a continual integration of all that has been in the light of a graced understanding of what is, perhaps learning more about who I am, and recognizing Abba being Abba in the ordinary every day of my life, a journey of repentance and conversion that is still evolving. I’m eagerly looking forward to whatever is coming. Just sayin . .