In today’s Gospel Story (Matthew 17:1-9) Jesus is 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. On the other hand 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, and I hope I am. Not all of us are. I’m not trying to prove a point or anything like that here. I’m just writing what the Story seems to be saying to me this morning. It might be saying something very different this afternoon.
The Psalm Verse offers a preparation for when we read this Gospel, any other bible verse, or in any number of situations: “Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you”. What are you saying to me in my life here and now, today? Your answers aren’t always clear. A lot of times what you are saying I don’t want to hear. Yet, in some way you are always telling me, “Don’t be afraid”. So, I place my trust in you.
You invite three of your friends to walk with you up a mountain, perhaps a symbol for the difficult times that require great effort, as we all have from time to time. I’ve learned over the years that no matter what is going on in my life you have been with me through all of it. This has been clearer looking back than when the tough things are actually happening. Becoming aware you are always with me in everything still is an exciting part of the journey. The increasingly frequent nitro episodes are a gift. The few minutes between popping the nitro and feeling its effects have been some interesting thoughts and prayer. While I can’t say I enjoy them, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Climbing up the mountain looks like every day living. Jesus took three of his friends up the mountain with him. If you are asking me to walk up the mountain with you, who else are you asking to walk with us? You do a lot with me through the other people in my life, and you do a lot for them through me, at times in spite of me. I’m just thinking of the people I’ve “interacted with” these past weeks — reiki, massage, OSU crown left outside my door, chats with others, food samplings, Anam Cara (spiritual director), interactions with folks I just don’t enjoy being around, the stark realization that some folks actually trust me more than I trust myself. to mention just a few. Some were a pleasant stroll, and others a difficult climb. And yet you are always walking with me, reminding me not to be afraid. You love each of us as we are, equally and uniquely. This is hard to take, especially with the current national polarization and turmoil and the human everyday foibles.
The journey up the mountain is unique for all of us. We make this climb in our own life, dealing with inner feelings and memories. As I climb up the mountain I find that I am carrying a lot of stuff I don’t need, making the climb more difficult. I learned the hard way not to carry too much in my ruck, making it a lot heavier that it had to be. I heard a number of times, “Hey Chaplain, you really need all that stuff?”. I had to learn from others what to bring and what to drop. At times I dropped the wrong stuff (thinking of dry socks here) and became kind of a burden to the guys I was with.
Most of my daily challenges come from other people. I’m trying to let go of the frustration I feel when people are not as I want them to be. That is my problem, not theirs, and it is a big one. I need to forgive them for that, Everybody in my life has the need and the right to be in my life, because in Abba’s loving providence, we need each other’s gifts. This is how things are. It is difficult to get away from judging other people, but I need to do it. It is a heavy and completely unnecessary load. I don’t know their story or their journey. I do not have the right to impose my standards or values on anybody ever. This is a hard load to drop.
Peter says, “Lord, it is good for us to be here”. I’m still learning the truth of these words. Where I am right now is my only reality, and is the only place I can know you. There is always more coming as I continue my journey. As I climb down the mountain you go with me at my pace. Going down a mountain can be more difficult than climbing up, due to gravity and uneven terrain. It can be really dangerous, especially if I am carrying a heavy load, and if there are snipers, unexpected challenges that seem to happen a lot. Think I need to hear again at this point of my life, “Hey Chaplain, you really need all that stuff?” You are walking point, I’m walking slack — how I’m looking at my life these days, a real adventure in rh best possible sense.
This story is a good one for the beginning of Lent, a time of penance and growth, and, when we are open to it, a time of listening. Perhaps I can ask Abba, what are you saying to me here? What are you telling me to not be afraid of? No doubt the answers will be a lot of what I don’t want to hear. As I walk down the mountain, hopefully lightening my load, I believe you are with me always, reminding me “do not be afraid”. I place my trust in you. Just sayin . . .