Love’s pure
light
As we are beginning
to realise, people have different preferences for learning. These are called
learning styles. Discipleship is about learning. And it seems that Jesus used
all the different kinds of approaches. He spoke and taught, giving verbal
instructions (but often in pithy, short, memorable picture stories). He touched
and healed, showing the disciples by experience and by action. And then, he
simply was – glorified, in bright light; over-powering the visual senses. Ninety
per cent of the information transmitted to the brain is visual. Only about five
per cent of information is transmitted verbally.
In this chapter, we
have the mystical transfiguration of Jesus; the fierce annoyance of Jesus at
the lack of faith of his learners; and the peculiar retrieval of a gold coin
from a fish to pay off the tax men with. I will focus on the first story - and leave it to you wise co-bloggers to reflect on the other two!
First, the bright
light of glory. We are reading Matthew chapter by chapter in the days of
Advent. Christmas carols begin to be sung as we enter the third week of this
penitential season. And as I read this chapter, with the transfiguration of
Jesus in mind, I thought about the connection between this mysterious radiant encounter
with Moses and Elijah and the words of the second verse of Silent Night. The glory Jesus left to live on earth is portrayed by
the composer of the favourite carol as beaming from his face as a babe. That
glory, that light, poured from his face again (just as it did to Moses on Mount
Sinai) in this critically important mountaintop meeting.
Silent night, holy night!
Son of God, love's pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.
Son of God, love's pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.
The Synoptic Gospels
– Matthew, Mark and Luke – all tell us about this mystical event at the turning
point of Jesus’ ministry. Each Gospel considers it to be the point at which the
journey to Jerusalem begins, the journey to the cross. This is the mountaintop
moment before the deep dark valley of the shadow of death. Each Gospel locates
this pretty much in the centre of the narrative, to make the point. Each Gospel
marks it up as the second moment when God speaks directly to humans about the
beloved Son (the first, of course, was his baptism). And each Gospel is making
the very significant point that Jesus has met with Moses and Elijah because
Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.
‘This is my Son,
marked by my love, the focus of my delight. Listen to him,’ says a voice from a
radiant cloud, a voice heard by Peter, James and John. Listen to him seems a
very particular command. God could have given all kinds of pithy instructions –
follow him, love him, trust him might have been three. But this word listen is
the key word for the disciples. Why?
Well, Jesus had just
unfolded for the first time that he is heading to Jerusalem to die. And they
did not want to believe it (as we heard last chapter). When he comes down the
mountain, heals a poor epileptic young man who the other disciples could not
help, Jesus tells them all a second time that he is bound for Jerusalem to be betrayed
and murdered. And he tells them again a third time in the following chapters.
Of course, for them
the message only really begins to sink in after all the impossible things have
happened. And, of course, the stories around Jesus’ life, death and
resurrection only began to be collected together in the decades after his
ascension and Pentecost.
This story, of the
Transfiguration, has the ring of truth about it. It has Peter again being shown
not in the best of lights – babbling away about memorialising in stone
something that is impossible to capture; just as the resurrected body of Jesus
could not be imprisoned by stone three days after his death.
But I want to end by
just thinking about the command of God to the disciple-learners to listen to Jesus.
We are not naturally good listeners, generally speaking. Humans prefer to speak
more than listen. And we find it hard to listen and take things in the first
time, or the second time, or maybe the fiftieth time. Listening really takes a
lifetime. And though the glory of the transfiguration would fade from their
eyes, the disciples would spend the rest of their lives mulling over, turning
over in their hearts and minds, the words of Jesus.
Listening is a
life-long endeavour. Glory may fade. But words take root and blossom in the
lives of listeners. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.
I've realised today that when I read Matthew my first response is a head based one.
ReplyDeleteSo first thoughts were how the transfiguration comes just after Jesus' first prediction of the cross. Suffering and glory go together. Crucifixion and resurrection are inseparable. And it reminded me John's Gospel which speaks of Jesus' "hour of glory", the hour of the cross and resurrection and exaltation.
I also noticed the word "touched", when Jesus touched the disciples who were overcome with fear. I couldn't remember that detail so looked up Mark's Gospel to see if it appears there, as that's the Gospel I'm most familiar with. And no, it doesn't. And it remained an interesting difference.
Then the mention of Elijah, and back to my comment about knowing and understanding the Old Testament.
And the character of John the Baptist - again - what a significant person he was.
And then at the end, the talk of kings and taxes and that strange verse about pulling a coin out of a fish's mouth. It made me read it again in a different version, from the NRSV to The Message, to read it in a different light....it's still an odd idea to find coins in fish!
All very interesting, an academic exercise, stimulating my analytical mind. A head response. I enjoy reading in this way.
But as in previous days, as the day goes on, and I mull over the chapter and any blogs that have already appeared, my heart responds to 1 or 2 verses that struck me on first reading but need chewing over. And today I've been challenged by Jesus' speaking about faith that can move mountains. I feel sorry for the disciples who I'm sure were trying their best. But as The Message version says "you're not yet taking God seriously". How often I slip into thinking faith is about something I possess or work at to get, instead of focusing on the greatness and mystery of God. Do I really take God seriously or just myself far too seriously?
And I've been wondering about moving mountains. If I'm honest I'm not sure if I want to believe mountains can be moved. That's so out of the ordinary, unpredictable, not like anything we know, which would mean having a risky faith. Does realism and pragmatism get in the way of taking God seriously and limit my safe faith?
So I went for my daily walk praying for a particular mountain to be moved, but still rather hesitatingly and not sure if I really believe it can be moved. And suddenly, not having planned to, I felt very drawn to go and pray in the labyrinth in the children's area in Warley Woods. (I only recently found out about this labyrinth in Paul's book on Walking the Woods - thank you for pointing this out). As I entered I prayed that I could listen to God. I began walking quite fast at first, but gradually my pace slowed until I reached the centre. And there and then I was welcomed into stillness, peace, and deep calm. I don't know how long I stood and stayed but, like the disciples who wanted to build 3 dwellings, I found myself wishing there was a bench so I could sit and enjoy and hold the moment for as long as possible. I stood in the wordless presence of God. On my one side a large standing stone reassured me of God my Rock, a constant and steady presence, the stronghold of my life. And I gave thanks.
After some time, and unexpectedly, I saw a face. Not the face of Jesus but carved into one of the trees, but I thought of the face of Jesus shining on me. "Get up and do not be afraid".
This was far from the glory of the transfiguration of Jesus but it was a glorious moment.
I encourage you to go and prayer walk the labyrinth and discover the face of glory and listen to what God wants to say to you.
Jesus' words are not easy to understand. Do we take him literally? After all, he made the lame walk, the blind to see and raised people from the dead. He said,
ReplyDelete" Ask and you will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. "
In John's gospel, he says,
"You may ask me for anything in my name and I will do it."
When Jesus says if we had faith like a mustard seed we could ask a mountain to throw itself in the sea and it would, I think he is paraphrasing from Zachariah chapter 4 . "So he said to me, "This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: 'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the Lord Almighty.What are you, mighty mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become level ground. Then he will bring out the capstone to shouts of 'God bless it! God bless it!'"
But what does he really mean?
I think a lot about what my daughter said some time after I had spoken to her about faith as small as a mustard seed. She said,
" I tried it out . I told my bed to throw itself over the stairs, and nothing happened. Why not? I really believed it would happen."
My reply was what Jesus said when he was tempted,
" Do not put the Lord your God to the test."
I am not sure that was the right answer, but I didn't know how else to respond at the time. When I pray for the sick and they are not healed, is that because I lack faith? How do I know I have faith? St. Paul says,
"To have faith is to be sure of the things we hope for, to be certain of the things we cannot see. "
But it isn't as simple as it seems.
Surely it was her faith that gave my daughter insight , so she was able to say what she did yesterday about Jonah being a forerunner to Jesus. That doesn't mean all her prayers will be answered in the way she hopes for.
This chapter takes us from the sublime to the ridiculous; transfiguration to catching fish! Three different miracles deny logic: the transfiguration of Jesus, the healing of the epileptic boy, and the fish with a coin in it.
ReplyDeleteThe transfiguration has always been a mystery to me, and it remains so in my later years. I have no experience of glowing faces and radiant clothes to relate too, unless I turn up the brightness on the tele, but that is lurid rather than glorifying. Although I have met people with faces lit up by joy and laughing eyes, there is a different order of things in the transfiguration. Was it a collective vision experienced by the three? A trick of the light? What of that cloud that enveloped them and the voice? Quite unnerving for the disciples, spooky stuff, unreal.
Rather than trying to explain it, let’s accept it, and see what the disciples learned. Jesus took Peter, just declared the ‘rock’ of his coming church. He also took James and John, whom Jesus called ‘sons of thunder’, strong characters, with a mother who wanted places for ‘her boys’ on either side of Jesus in his kingdom (20, 20). So perhaps Jesus saw them as the disciples to ensure the church came into being. They had to be certain that Jesus came from God, and listen to him. Whatever actually happened on that mountain, the effect was to strengthen them and reinforce the message.
Jesus warns them not to say that what they have seen until after his resurrection. For them it was a kind of fore-taste, a trailer for the ‘coming shortly’ drama that would occur in Jerusalem. They would have to lead the other disciples in coming to terms with the thunderbolt of the resurrection, and establishing the new church preaching it. It was vital they understood, after the resurrection, if not immediately.
Sublime moments seldom last long, and the world presses in again. They rejoined the crowd and Jesus heals the epileptic boy – something the other nine disciples had failed to do in his absence. He chides them for their lack of faith, ‘even faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains’. This is a fine example of ‘hyperbole’, using an exaggeration to make a point. Jesus is not really talking about moving tons of earth and rock, but about less tangible mountains that blighted the lives of his hearers; whose removal put them right with God, made them whole, and liberated them from oppression. We need similar faith to heal and liberate our lives and generation. ‘Nothing will be impossible for you’, Jesus reassures us, ‘if you have faith’.
Jesus reaches Capernaum, only for the tax men to catch up with him. This story is similar to the one about paying taxes to Caesar (22, 15), but this event occurs only in Matthew’s gospel (perhaps because it was dear to his heart as a former tax-man). ‘Does Jesus pay his tax to the temple?’ Jesus then makes the point that he is the Son of God, rather subtly. ‘Do kings tax their sons or other people?’, and Peter replies, ‘Others’. ‘So, as God’s Son, I should be exempt from paying tax for God’s temple’. But to keep the peace, he performs the miracle of Peter catching a fish and finding a four drachma coin to pay their taxes. Although it sounds like the trick a stage magician performs with the re-appearance of a five pound note he burnt earlier, it does demonstrate that ‘nothing is impossible’ for those with faith, and it reinforces to the disciples that he is the Son of God.
This chapter may seem like three unconnected events thrown together by Matthew, but they are all part of the preparation process for the disciples. They need to carry on the work of Jesus after his resurrection, and are still rough and ready to take on the task of establishing a church. The same could be said of us today; we too are often ill-prepared for the task of nurturing and presenting the church to the world. What transfiguring light do we need to awaken us? What do we need to convince us that nothing is impossible in faith?
I don't agree that it was completely hyperbole to speak of faith being able to move mountains; after all, Jesus did tell the waves and the wind in the storm to calm down , and they did. MMJ
ReplyDeleteIt just occured to me, that Jesus' transfiguration and the glory he reflected are similar to when Moses went up the mountain to receive the Ten Commandments from God. Both went up a mountain to meet God and both reflected God's glory. St Paul makes reference to God's glory in 2 Corinthians 3:7-4:18 (NIV)
ReplyDeleteThe Greater Glory of the New Covenant
7 Now if the ministry that brought death, which was engraved in letters on stone, came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, transitory though it was, 8 will not the ministry of the Spirit be even more glorious? 9 If the ministry that brought condemnation was glorious, how much more glorious is the ministry that brings righteousness! 10 For what was glorious has no glory now in comparison with the surpassing glory. 11 And if what was transitory came with glory, how much greater is the glory of that which lasts!
12 Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. 13 We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to prevent the Israelites from seeing the end of what was passing away. 14 But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. 15 Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. 16 But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18 And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate[a] the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.
He then continues to say that we have God's glory within us:
2 Cor4:7 (NIV)
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.
This is how the Good News Bible puts it:
Yet we who have this spiritual treasure are like common clay pots, in order to show that the supreme power belongs to God, not to us.