Living in the Past

It is Valentine's Day and Transfiguration Sunday, the day in the church year where we commemorate Jesus being transfigured on the mountain. Okay so I have never really understood what it means to be transfigured, other than what it says in our reading from Luke 9:28-43, that Jesus' clothes became dazzling white and the appearance of his face changed. Maybe I'll explore that more next year.

But Transfiguration Sunday is also the last Sunday before we begin our Lenten journey. As we travel with Jesus from the top of one mountain at the Transfiguration to the top of a hill when Jesus died on the cross. The journey is not always easy, it is not always one we want to take, but if you take that journey you grow, change and learn in ways that that you never thought possible. So here is the sermon for the start of that journey

Many of you have learned by now that I am a bit sarcastic and occasionally I have to bite my tongue in order to keep myself from getting into trouble. Well one day while I was an intern at a 100 year plus old congregation in the suburbs of Philadelphia, a gentlemen was talking about the church’s glory years. First let me describe this gentlemen, he was not actually a member of the congregation, he officially was a member at a massive Presbyterian church about 10 miles away, but he sort of grew up in the congregation I did my internship in and has been attending there off and on for his entire life. And he was one of these people who looked, dressed and talked much older than he really was. He probably was only in his mid to late 60’s but when you first talked to him you would think he had to be closer to 90. He wore tweed suits, often with the elbow patches, yellow button down shirts and a tie and he was bald, though he tried to hide it with the three or four strands that were strategically combed over his head.

So one day this gentleman was going on and on about young people in the church and how they no longer “dress” for church – wearing jeans and baggy clothes. And try as I might to counter him with discussion about God loves us as we are not as we are “suppose to be” and that the teenagers in questions were there, without complaints most Sundays, there to worship, and I would rather have them there in whatever clothes they felt comfortable than not there in suits and dresses. But no matter what I said it was not good enough, because it was not what had been done in the past. So needless to say this guy was irritating me since he was so focused on the past that he could not see the good that was being done today.

And just when I thought he couldn’t aggravate me more, he then said “oh and women used to wear veils over their heads when they were in worship, it was so dignified” To which I almost replied, almost replied but I bite my tongue quite hard to keep myself from saying “Well I’m not sure about you, but I have more than enough hair covering my head that I don’t need a veil up there as well.”

This man was living in the past, he was Peter, wanting to stay up on the mountain, wanting to bask in the glory of what was and stay there for the rest of life. Unfortunately in the church, and not just my internship congregation but the Church universal, there are many people who are like this man. People who see pews that no longer seem as filled as they once were, people who think the congregation is one week from closing – depending on how much is received in the offering plate, people who always see things as how they once were and not how they are and can be.

But there is a funny thing about focusing solely on the past: our memory gets a little fuzzy. Past worship attendances slowly grow to be greater numbers than they ever were; financial stability is made out to be much firmer than it ever was; secrets, strife and conflicts that torn the congregation apart fade away into minor disagreements. When we live in the past, we glorify it, we remember only the good things and nothing that happens today, or that happens in the future will ever measure up.

Peter wanted to stay on the mountain, he wanted to freeze the moment, commemorate the transfiguration, stay in that glory. But being faithful followers of Christ, faithful disciples, is not achieved by freezing the moment, by living in the past. Instead faithfulness is achieved by following God wherever we are led, down from the mountain, to the cross and eventually to the resurrection. Faithfulness is realized when we have the confidence that God is leading us to places that are far greater than where we have already been. That God will lead us to bigger mountains, and not just to the transfiguration, a one time moment of Christ getting a glimpse at future glory, but to the resurrection, an eternal, everlasting, heavenly glory over sin and death.

Being faithful means living in the present, seeing Christ and hearing God’s voice around us now. It means realizing that Jesus is with us even when we do not measure up to the past. It means realizing that Jesus is with us on this journey, this journey to new places, to new mountains, to new heights.

Being faithful means looking to the future, to plan, envision, dream about where God is calling us as individuals and as Bethlehem Lutheran Church to journey to. To which mountain tops God is calling us climb, and to start taking the steps on that journey.

Being faithful means learning from our past, remembering the glory that once was and living in the hope and the knowledge that not only will we see that glory in the future, but that we will see and experience even greater things that what we have already experienced.

Being faithful means realizing that all journeys are not smoothly paved, that there are struggles, that in order to bask in the glory of the resurrection, we must first journey to the cross. And being faithful means realizing that while the cross is not a place that we particularly want to visit, it is a place that is important to visit. It is on the cross that Jesus reminds us that he is with us even in doubt and sadness, even in the lowest times of our lives. It is often at the foot of the cross that we most profoundly experience God and it not until we look up from the foot of the cross, look up to a very human Jesus hanging from those wooden beams, breathing his last breath so that we will not have to suffer that we are then able to look towards the resurrection. It is not until we fully experience the power of sin, the power of death, the power of despair that we are able to truly see the glory, the majesty, and the triumph that happened in the resurrection.

On the mountain top it is easy to be faithful, in seeing Christ’s future glory, it is easy to think that everything will be wonderful from here on out, but being faithful means traveling with Christ to the cross, to the hour of darkness and to realize that there is still a tomorrow, that there is still Easter, that is still a promise and a hope in the resurrection.

Being faithful means traveling with Christ from one mountain, into the valley and up to the next. We may want to skip over the valley, to hop from one peak to the next, but we can’t. The disciples came down from the mountain that struggled to heal a boy, struggled to truly hear Christ’s warnings about his death. And we too have come to a valley in many ways. We struggle with worship attendance, with finances, with learning and following our mission. But it is in the valley when we struggle that we grow, that we learn who we are and that we learn who Christ is also. It is in the valley, where Christ starts leading us back up the mountain and towards new greater experiences.