Audio solamente.
MP3 File
March 12, 2008
February 10, 2008 - Temptation - Frank Alton
Genesis 2:4b-9, 15-17; 3:1-7; Matthew 4:1-11
MP3 File
I grew up watching the Lone Ranger. Had to have my mask and my gun. Pitted good against evil. Lone Ranger and Tonto were always good. They were on the side of the law, even when the law didn’t always recognize that. Their enemies were always evil, and they were outlaws, even though for a while they might have convinced the law that they were law abiding folks. I liked the Lone Ranger view of life because it was simpler. To obey the rules was good. To break the rules was bad. I had basically chosen to obey the rules / be good. I discovered early on that life worked better that way. My dad was strict, and it looked to me like he had all the power. Life went more smoothly when I didn’t cross him.
While I wasn’t only obedient throughout my childhood, I was pretty compliant. In fact, I remember to this day one of the first times I publicly rebelled. I was a senior in high school, and I was co-captain of the swim team. It was the day we were going to take the picture for the school album. They always put the year in the center of the picture, and the captains kneeled right above the number. Now it turned out that I graduated from high school in 1969, so the number that was to appear in the middle of the picture was 69. Now I went to an all-boys school, and there were a lot of jokes about the number 69. I had no idea what it meant except that it was dirty. But I never wanted to let people know that.
Right before they were about to take the picture, someone suggested that the co-captain and I point to the number with our middle fingers. Now there could have been no two more unlikely candidates for doing that. The co-captain was the son of an Episcopal priest who was one of our teachers at the school. But Jeff and I did what was suggested. I completely forgot about the incident until a few weeks later when I was called into the office of the swim coach, who also happened to be my math teacher. The picture had finally gotten developed. I had seen the photographer who was also a professor, and I thought I noticed a smirk on his face. To make a long story short, we were both suspended as captains of the swim team.
I never told my parents because I was terrified about how especially my father would respond. Eventually they found out. I was surprised how easily they took it. It was only later that I realized that when both my teachers and my parents found out they probably said, “YES – finally”, because they were worried about how good and obedient I had remained. Finally, I had shown a sign of rebellion.
Now, I know that many of you will have a hard time identifying with that story, though I know some of you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve had the same response with kids – and even adults – who are so compliant and obedient, that when they do something rebellious I rejoice. For someone whose only option is compliance, rebellion introduces some good flexibility.
It’s taken me a long time to realize that compliance and rebellion aren’t the only options. In fact, they are actually flip sides of the same coin. In the school of psychology known as Transactional Analysis, which became popular during those very years of my adolescence in the 60s, each of us is said to have an adult state, a parent state and a child state. Freud called them ego, superego and id. The child state is divided into the adaptive child and the free child. The free child responds to her or his inner desires. While that can get out of hand without the partnership of the parent and adult states, it is nevertheless a very positive state of being for a person.
The adaptive child, on the other hand, is always living in reaction to parents – whether literal parents or any authority figure. But it turns out that the adaptive child isn’t just compliant. Rebelliousness is another way to be adaptive, because it is essentially merely a different way of reacting to authority. I can either obey or rebel against external authority. But if my obedience or rebellion is simply a reaction to an external stimulus, I am just adapting to my circumstances.
The free child isn’t reacting. She is responding to those internal desires. That’s why they call the child “free.” The free child is free to tap into his most authentic desires rather than be distracted by the need to adapt to a certain pattern of reacting to authority. When my friend and I pointed with our fingers to the 69, we were simply being rebellious – and that because someone had dared us to. We were clearly not acting in freedom.
I believe the stories we read from the Bible this morning describe the same dynamic. In Genesis 2, Adam and Eve were free children. The writer describes it with the language, “they were both naked, and were not ashamed.” That is a perfect description of the free child. They were free creatures of God who had created them; and they were enjoying “every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food” (2:9). It was a beautiful state of affairs.
The writer of Genesis uses some delightful plays on words that help readers get the point – that is if they understand Hebrew. On Ash Wednesday, I shared that the very name of the first creature – Adam – is a form of the word for dirt – adamah. Adam was named after his origin, since God formed Adam out of the adamah. Another play on words is the word translated “pleasant” in chapter 2 – “God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight.” It’s translated “desired” in chapter 3 where it says, “the tree was to be desired” (3:6). It is also the same word used in the 10th commandment that reads “you shall not covet.” (Ex. 20:17) It appears that desire starts out as a good thing and becomes corrupted. Finally, a third play on words happens at the hinge of the chapters. The Hebrew word translated “crafty” to describe the serpent has the same root. Arum means “crafty” and arummim means “naked.” Before the crafty serpent Adam and Eve were naked and not ashamed. Afterwards, they sewed fig leaves.
In the Gospel story of the temptation of Jesus, Jesus is the free child, but this time freedom is a choice rather than a state of affairs. Jesus was surrounded by adaptive children who offered him choices to follow. On the one hand were the compliant children. The most radical of these were the Essenes, who were purists that complied with God’s law so thoroughly they couldn’t even mix with normal society. Then there were the Pharisees who were also strictly compliant, though not as strict as the Essenes. They had a tense relationship with their Roman colonizers. Finally, the Sadducees were more compliant with respect to the Romans themselves. They managed to figure out how to interpret God’s law in a way that led to greater cooperation with the Romans. In the end, all of these put Jesus to death as a way to re-establish peace in the community, peace that Jesus had disturbed by his teaching and ministry. Killing the scapegoat, who is perceived as a rebellious child, is a common way that compliant children try to create peace and stability in society.
On the other side of society were the rebelliously adaptive children. The most famous of these were the Zealots. This group could not fathom that the Pagan Romans would rule over them. They whittled away at Roman rule through small acts of violence. Their movement eventually led to a revolution against Rome that ultimately brought the full force of the Roman Empire against them, ending with the destruction of Jerusalem.
What we have to notice in order to get free is that neither compliant nor rebellious children are free, and that both are reactive, competitive and envious. Society has so often missed the point here. The blame is often placed on religion alone. But education and politics also act on a false division between the compliant and the rebellious. In schools, children who are responding to the inner call to freedom are quickly labeled rebellious and set on a path that often ends with their alienation. In politics, when opposition parties are seen as rebellious they might be labeled “weak on terror.” But the fickleness of this kind of labeling is exposed in the saying, “yesterday’s freedom fighters are today’s terrorists.”
The one called “serpent” in Genesis and “devil” in Matthew is the one who gives voice to the idea that any time limits or prohibitions are placed on our desires, the one who imposes the limits does so out of a desire for the prohibited objects. So the serpent exaggerates the prohibition by asking, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden?’” We know it worked when Even in turn exaggerates the prohibition even as she corrects the serpent’s exaggeration, but adds, “or even touch it.” She has lodged in her mind the idea generated by her own desire that she is being excluded from something valuable by God’s desire for the same thing.
By manipulating the prohibition the serpent or the devil tries to transform legitimate desire into competitive envy. God is then converted from creator into rival, from one we’re related to by gratitude to one whom we are related to by envy,. Desire becomes envy by persuading itself that God is envious first. Oh, we don’t have to think of it as God; we simply envision it as the owner of what we want. Envy is defined not by the desire to have something oneself, but by the desire to deprive the other of that thing. One person put it well when he said, “Envy thinks that it will walk better if its neighbor breaks a leg.” So God becomes in our minds the obstacle to human fulfillment rather than the one who points the way to the tree of life (Gen 3:22).
Jesus points us back to God as the source of the tree of life. When the devil questioned the truth of God’s voice that “you are my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased” by saying “If you are the Son of God” Jesus refused to be baited. Jesus didn’t have to choose between compliance and rebellion. He could choose freedom. He believed that the one who had called him beloved was true, and had also called him to be the very things the devil tempted him with. The devil was making gifts that should be received from God turn into obstacles that turn us away from God. By his obedience to God, his conscious willingness to depend on God, Jesus is enabled himself to become the bread by which people can live because it is the same as the word which comes out of God's mouth. Jesus is able to become the Temple from which he refused to cast himself down. And he becomes, in his death, the ruler of all the nations of the world.
There is nothing more exhausting for the person," says Howard Thurman, "than the constant awareness that his life is being lived at cross-purposes. At such moments the individual seems to himself ever to be working against himself. What he longs for is the energy that comes from a concentration of his forces in a single direction, toward a single end." Jesus invites us to face up to those moments of temptation and allow him to be our strength in choosing freedom so that we are not distracted from our deepest desires by more superficial ones..
MP3 File
I grew up watching the Lone Ranger. Had to have my mask and my gun. Pitted good against evil. Lone Ranger and Tonto were always good. They were on the side of the law, even when the law didn’t always recognize that. Their enemies were always evil, and they were outlaws, even though for a while they might have convinced the law that they were law abiding folks. I liked the Lone Ranger view of life because it was simpler. To obey the rules was good. To break the rules was bad. I had basically chosen to obey the rules / be good. I discovered early on that life worked better that way. My dad was strict, and it looked to me like he had all the power. Life went more smoothly when I didn’t cross him.
While I wasn’t only obedient throughout my childhood, I was pretty compliant. In fact, I remember to this day one of the first times I publicly rebelled. I was a senior in high school, and I was co-captain of the swim team. It was the day we were going to take the picture for the school album. They always put the year in the center of the picture, and the captains kneeled right above the number. Now it turned out that I graduated from high school in 1969, so the number that was to appear in the middle of the picture was 69. Now I went to an all-boys school, and there were a lot of jokes about the number 69. I had no idea what it meant except that it was dirty. But I never wanted to let people know that.
Right before they were about to take the picture, someone suggested that the co-captain and I point to the number with our middle fingers. Now there could have been no two more unlikely candidates for doing that. The co-captain was the son of an Episcopal priest who was one of our teachers at the school. But Jeff and I did what was suggested. I completely forgot about the incident until a few weeks later when I was called into the office of the swim coach, who also happened to be my math teacher. The picture had finally gotten developed. I had seen the photographer who was also a professor, and I thought I noticed a smirk on his face. To make a long story short, we were both suspended as captains of the swim team.
I never told my parents because I was terrified about how especially my father would respond. Eventually they found out. I was surprised how easily they took it. It was only later that I realized that when both my teachers and my parents found out they probably said, “YES – finally”, because they were worried about how good and obedient I had remained. Finally, I had shown a sign of rebellion.
Now, I know that many of you will have a hard time identifying with that story, though I know some of you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve had the same response with kids – and even adults – who are so compliant and obedient, that when they do something rebellious I rejoice. For someone whose only option is compliance, rebellion introduces some good flexibility.
It’s taken me a long time to realize that compliance and rebellion aren’t the only options. In fact, they are actually flip sides of the same coin. In the school of psychology known as Transactional Analysis, which became popular during those very years of my adolescence in the 60s, each of us is said to have an adult state, a parent state and a child state. Freud called them ego, superego and id. The child state is divided into the adaptive child and the free child. The free child responds to her or his inner desires. While that can get out of hand without the partnership of the parent and adult states, it is nevertheless a very positive state of being for a person.
The adaptive child, on the other hand, is always living in reaction to parents – whether literal parents or any authority figure. But it turns out that the adaptive child isn’t just compliant. Rebelliousness is another way to be adaptive, because it is essentially merely a different way of reacting to authority. I can either obey or rebel against external authority. But if my obedience or rebellion is simply a reaction to an external stimulus, I am just adapting to my circumstances.
The free child isn’t reacting. She is responding to those internal desires. That’s why they call the child “free.” The free child is free to tap into his most authentic desires rather than be distracted by the need to adapt to a certain pattern of reacting to authority. When my friend and I pointed with our fingers to the 69, we were simply being rebellious – and that because someone had dared us to. We were clearly not acting in freedom.
I believe the stories we read from the Bible this morning describe the same dynamic. In Genesis 2, Adam and Eve were free children. The writer describes it with the language, “they were both naked, and were not ashamed.” That is a perfect description of the free child. They were free creatures of God who had created them; and they were enjoying “every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food” (2:9). It was a beautiful state of affairs.
The writer of Genesis uses some delightful plays on words that help readers get the point – that is if they understand Hebrew. On Ash Wednesday, I shared that the very name of the first creature – Adam – is a form of the word for dirt – adamah. Adam was named after his origin, since God formed Adam out of the adamah. Another play on words is the word translated “pleasant” in chapter 2 – “God made to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight.” It’s translated “desired” in chapter 3 where it says, “the tree was to be desired” (3:6). It is also the same word used in the 10th commandment that reads “you shall not covet.” (Ex. 20:17) It appears that desire starts out as a good thing and becomes corrupted. Finally, a third play on words happens at the hinge of the chapters. The Hebrew word translated “crafty” to describe the serpent has the same root. Arum means “crafty” and arummim means “naked.” Before the crafty serpent Adam and Eve were naked and not ashamed. Afterwards, they sewed fig leaves.
In the Gospel story of the temptation of Jesus, Jesus is the free child, but this time freedom is a choice rather than a state of affairs. Jesus was surrounded by adaptive children who offered him choices to follow. On the one hand were the compliant children. The most radical of these were the Essenes, who were purists that complied with God’s law so thoroughly they couldn’t even mix with normal society. Then there were the Pharisees who were also strictly compliant, though not as strict as the Essenes. They had a tense relationship with their Roman colonizers. Finally, the Sadducees were more compliant with respect to the Romans themselves. They managed to figure out how to interpret God’s law in a way that led to greater cooperation with the Romans. In the end, all of these put Jesus to death as a way to re-establish peace in the community, peace that Jesus had disturbed by his teaching and ministry. Killing the scapegoat, who is perceived as a rebellious child, is a common way that compliant children try to create peace and stability in society.
On the other side of society were the rebelliously adaptive children. The most famous of these were the Zealots. This group could not fathom that the Pagan Romans would rule over them. They whittled away at Roman rule through small acts of violence. Their movement eventually led to a revolution against Rome that ultimately brought the full force of the Roman Empire against them, ending with the destruction of Jerusalem.
What we have to notice in order to get free is that neither compliant nor rebellious children are free, and that both are reactive, competitive and envious. Society has so often missed the point here. The blame is often placed on religion alone. But education and politics also act on a false division between the compliant and the rebellious. In schools, children who are responding to the inner call to freedom are quickly labeled rebellious and set on a path that often ends with their alienation. In politics, when opposition parties are seen as rebellious they might be labeled “weak on terror.” But the fickleness of this kind of labeling is exposed in the saying, “yesterday’s freedom fighters are today’s terrorists.”
The one called “serpent” in Genesis and “devil” in Matthew is the one who gives voice to the idea that any time limits or prohibitions are placed on our desires, the one who imposes the limits does so out of a desire for the prohibited objects. So the serpent exaggerates the prohibition by asking, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden?’” We know it worked when Even in turn exaggerates the prohibition even as she corrects the serpent’s exaggeration, but adds, “or even touch it.” She has lodged in her mind the idea generated by her own desire that she is being excluded from something valuable by God’s desire for the same thing.
By manipulating the prohibition the serpent or the devil tries to transform legitimate desire into competitive envy. God is then converted from creator into rival, from one we’re related to by gratitude to one whom we are related to by envy,. Desire becomes envy by persuading itself that God is envious first. Oh, we don’t have to think of it as God; we simply envision it as the owner of what we want. Envy is defined not by the desire to have something oneself, but by the desire to deprive the other of that thing. One person put it well when he said, “Envy thinks that it will walk better if its neighbor breaks a leg.” So God becomes in our minds the obstacle to human fulfillment rather than the one who points the way to the tree of life (Gen 3:22).
Jesus points us back to God as the source of the tree of life. When the devil questioned the truth of God’s voice that “you are my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased” by saying “If you are the Son of God” Jesus refused to be baited. Jesus didn’t have to choose between compliance and rebellion. He could choose freedom. He believed that the one who had called him beloved was true, and had also called him to be the very things the devil tempted him with. The devil was making gifts that should be received from God turn into obstacles that turn us away from God. By his obedience to God, his conscious willingness to depend on God, Jesus is enabled himself to become the bread by which people can live because it is the same as the word which comes out of God's mouth. Jesus is able to become the Temple from which he refused to cast himself down. And he becomes, in his death, the ruler of all the nations of the world.
There is nothing more exhausting for the person," says Howard Thurman, "than the constant awareness that his life is being lived at cross-purposes. At such moments the individual seems to himself ever to be working against himself. What he longs for is the energy that comes from a concentration of his forces in a single direction, toward a single end." Jesus invites us to face up to those moments of temptation and allow him to be our strength in choosing freedom so that we are not distracted from our deepest desires by more superficial ones..
February 3, 2008 - Mountaintop Experiences - Frank Alton
Exodus 24:12-18; Matthew 17:1-9
MP3 File
Yesterday my oldest daughter finally convinced me to go to a Tai Bo class with her. Today my body is telling me I might have been right all along in resisting it. I hurt in places I didn’t even know existed. But as we were driving home from the “torture chamber” we got to talking about Immanuel’s search for new leadership for our youth. She perked up and showed more interest than I imagined. At one point she said, “You know, dad, the young people I hang out with have deep belief in and commitment to God. We want to find ways to serve God and the world. But most churches just don’t offer that to us.” Then, because she is my daughter, she had to add, “I really like the people at Immanuel. But it’s so hard to feel the energy in that big space.”
A recent poll of 16-29 year old Christians suggests the younger generation exhibits a greater degree of criticism toward Christianity than previous generations. 50% perceive Christianity to be judgmental and hypocritical. 33% say it’s old fashioned and out of touch with reality. 80% say “anti-homosexual” is a phrase that describes Christianity. And 22% agree that Christianity today no longer looks like Jesus (Barna Group, September 2007, in Sojourners, April 2008 p. 10).
I believe that the various meanings of this day, especially including today’s two stories about mountaintop experiences, offer us a way to change course, to rediscover what a Christianity that looks more like Jesus might do differently. Yesterday, Feb 2, was the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Different cultures celebrate that in a variety of ways. In traditional American culture it’s known as Groundhog Day, when something that happens in the middle of winter gives a hint about what spring is going to be like. Some Christians also celebrate the day as Candlemas, when all the candles that will be used throughout the year are brought to the church to be blessed. In Latin countries the day is called, Dia de la Candelaria, re-enacting the day 40 days after Christmas when the baby Jesus was presented in the temple.
We have two choices as we view these different ways to celebrate this day. We can say that only our way is right and the others are wrong. Or we can say that something common to people of many cultures unites us in wanting to mark this moment in the cycle of time.
This year today is also Transfiguration Sunday. Two of the texts for the day are the stories of Moses on Mount Sinai & Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Like the cycle of seasons, mountaintop experiences are also common to many religions and cultures. On Mt. Croagh (Croach ) Patrick in Ireland, each year as many as one million pilgrims and visitors make the trek to the top to pray at the stations of the cross, participate in Mass, do penance, or just enjoy the spectacular view. Mt. Kailash, Tibet, is one of the tallest peaks in the Himalayas near the source of the Ganges. It is venerated by Hindus, Jains, and Tibetan Buddhists.
We have two choices here as well. Remember when Elijah was on Mount Carmel and did battle with the prophets of Baal? At the end of his victory in that contest, Elijah commanded that all the prophets of Baal be put to death. Jesus made a different choice on Mount Calvary. He let his enemies put him to death. By so doing he introduced a new way to be human – the way of the cross.
The stakes are high as we choose between these options. The mountain of Jerusalem continues to be a place of division and death. Whether the religious meanings attached to Jerusalem are the genuine motives for much terrorism around the world, or simply an excuse for it, the choice by religious people to view the world through the lens of “my mountain is better than your mountain” fuels much of the violence.
Jesus made his choice long before Calvary. We see it on the Mount of Transfiguration. To understand that story we need to go back to the story of Moses on Mount Sinai. The journey of the Hebrews through the desert forms the foundation for the transfiguration story. Today’s passage describes Moses on Mount Sinai, the mountain of God. There was glory, there was a cloud, and there were six days. All those elements were in the Gospel story. But Mount Sinai is only part of the story of exodus and wilderness wanderings. The larger story of the Hebrews helps us understand the transfiguration. Peter’s suggestion to build three tents was consistent with the larger story.
Whenever the Hebrews stopped on their journey, they believed God dwelt in a tent they set outside the camp. God hovered above that same tent in the form of a cloud by day and fire by night as it was carried along their journey. The final sentences of the Book of Exodus read: “When ever the cloud was taken up from the tent, the Israelites would set out on each stage of their journey; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the Lord was over the tent by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, before the eyes of all the house of Israel at each stage of their journey.”
So Peter wasn’t as off base as we often think in his desire to make the Gospel scene a stopping point along the way. Even as Peter spoke a cloud overshadowed them & a voice said, “This is my Son the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” That’s the challenging and fearful part. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” Then they saw no one except Jesus. There is the comfort and clarity.
The next thing the disciples knew they were coming down the mountain to a scene that reminded them that life continued just as it had before their mountaintop experience. Jesus was teaching them that things were different this time around. The only tents of dwelling would be their own bodies that are mostly on the move, and only occasionally stop to rest.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be so critical of today's Peters for wanting to prolong great mountaintop experiences. Good for them (or us!). It's worth a try. But when those experiences are genuine, we encounter something bigger than ourselves – something that is challenging and fearful on the one hand, and comforting and clear on the other; something that tap into deep parts of us. Those deep parts are genuine, even though they may not be able to immediately face the light of day once we go down the mountain. While we're up there with Jesus & company it's good to remind ourselves that all genuine religious experiences point to God. Religious highs that are no more than that & are used to hype us on experiences, not God, can't prepare us for the journey down the mount, nor for the challenges lie at the bottom. Like Peter, we too must realize that things are different this time around. Somewhere along the line we became God's tent! When it's time to move on, it's time to move on. And we pitch ourselves somewhere else – wearing our tent inside us. We are God's glory, God's tent, even the echo of God's voice, still & small or loud & clear.
What is God’s glory? It’s the reflection of God from inside, not outside. It doesn’t mainly happen to celebrities, and it’s not about what happens on stage. It’s what happens inside us when we're prepared to live & suffer for right & love. What changes in transfiguration is not so much the scene around us; it’s us. Let me see if I can help you picture this. The first time I flew into Mexico City I was coming from Central and South America. Flying into Bogota, Colombia and San Jose, Costa Rica was inspiring, because the lush green was all around. To land in Mexico City was to sink into a smoke-filled desert-like valley that simply looked dry & desolate. But today when I fly into Mexico City I don’t see smoke and desolation. I am filled with the expectation of seeing old friends and connecting to great memories. What changed? I assure you it wasn’t Mexico City. The change happened in the way I experience Mexico City.
So in today’s scriptures one mountain is shrouded in clouds when Moses and Joshua go up, and the other is overshadowed when Jesus was transfigured before the disciples. Laurel Dykstra wonders, “was it Jesus who changed or was it that John, James and Peter could now see the face of God shining in the man they knew? Did the thin air and the elevated perspective contribute to their clarity of vision? When they came down from their mountaintop, did they take their new capacity to see into the low places and crowded city streets? Can we? And when we see the face of God shining through those who are familiar to us, do we truly, deeply listen to them?” (Sojourners, April 2008, p. 56)
Today Jesus is far more likely to be crucified by 'collateral damage', land mines, razor wire, terrorist bombs, police brutality, refugee camps, globalization, &c, than on a cross. Those too busy looking backwards, or in other wrong directions, and those trying to hang on to mountaintop experiences, can't see that. So people end up being disfigured rather than transfigured – both those who do it, & those who suffer it. I think this has something to do with what the younger generation is saying about the church. The church isn’t making enough connections between the instructive stories from the past and the stories that demand our attention in the present.
How can we do better in that? I think one answer is another dimension of the Transfiguration story. Jesus used this experience to teach some important life lessons to a few of his followers. On that mountaintop he helped them see who he was with enough clarity so that they could see the world in the right light. That’s what Jesus did with them throughout his ministry. When I was growing up in the faith I called that “discipling.” Today I would call it “mentoring.” Last weekend a group of Immanuel men gathered for dinner and conversation. We told stories of times that we had been mentored and times that we had mentored others. It was a powerful and inspiring time for me as I learned new things about some guys I’ve known for years.
Several men shared stories about mentors who had trusted them with responsibilities even when they hadn’t earned that trust. One told us that he became a teacher because of several men who had organized informal sports teams among neighborhood children like him who had no other way to gain access to competitive athletics. Several gave examples that showed the importance of vulnerability, forgiveness and acknowledging mistakes between them and their mentors. They spoke about people they had mentored coming back and inspiring them. They were teachers in Guatemala who also published manuals about organic agriculture; they were research assistants and University professors in Mexico; they were educators of at risk youth in Los Angeles.
I wonder if the church might be transfigured if more of us offered ourselves as mentors to our youth. Can we be vulnerable? Can we admit our mistakes? Can we forgive and let others forgive us? Perhaps if we can, then together generations of the faithful might make different choices. No longer will we say, “My God’s mountain is better than your God’s mountain.” We will say, “You and I seem to have some of the same longings. Maybe we can work together to create something beautiful.” No longer will we try to put up tents on the mountain. We will be the tents of God’s presence in the world. So let’s sing about our time on the mountain. But let’s sing it from the real world, so that our mountaintop experiences will make a real difference there.
MP3 File
Yesterday my oldest daughter finally convinced me to go to a Tai Bo class with her. Today my body is telling me I might have been right all along in resisting it. I hurt in places I didn’t even know existed. But as we were driving home from the “torture chamber” we got to talking about Immanuel’s search for new leadership for our youth. She perked up and showed more interest than I imagined. At one point she said, “You know, dad, the young people I hang out with have deep belief in and commitment to God. We want to find ways to serve God and the world. But most churches just don’t offer that to us.” Then, because she is my daughter, she had to add, “I really like the people at Immanuel. But it’s so hard to feel the energy in that big space.”
A recent poll of 16-29 year old Christians suggests the younger generation exhibits a greater degree of criticism toward Christianity than previous generations. 50% perceive Christianity to be judgmental and hypocritical. 33% say it’s old fashioned and out of touch with reality. 80% say “anti-homosexual” is a phrase that describes Christianity. And 22% agree that Christianity today no longer looks like Jesus (Barna Group, September 2007, in Sojourners, April 2008 p. 10).
I believe that the various meanings of this day, especially including today’s two stories about mountaintop experiences, offer us a way to change course, to rediscover what a Christianity that looks more like Jesus might do differently. Yesterday, Feb 2, was the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Different cultures celebrate that in a variety of ways. In traditional American culture it’s known as Groundhog Day, when something that happens in the middle of winter gives a hint about what spring is going to be like. Some Christians also celebrate the day as Candlemas, when all the candles that will be used throughout the year are brought to the church to be blessed. In Latin countries the day is called, Dia de la Candelaria, re-enacting the day 40 days after Christmas when the baby Jesus was presented in the temple.
We have two choices as we view these different ways to celebrate this day. We can say that only our way is right and the others are wrong. Or we can say that something common to people of many cultures unites us in wanting to mark this moment in the cycle of time.
This year today is also Transfiguration Sunday. Two of the texts for the day are the stories of Moses on Mount Sinai & Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Like the cycle of seasons, mountaintop experiences are also common to many religions and cultures. On Mt. Croagh (Croach ) Patrick in Ireland, each year as many as one million pilgrims and visitors make the trek to the top to pray at the stations of the cross, participate in Mass, do penance, or just enjoy the spectacular view. Mt. Kailash, Tibet, is one of the tallest peaks in the Himalayas near the source of the Ganges. It is venerated by Hindus, Jains, and Tibetan Buddhists.
We have two choices here as well. Remember when Elijah was on Mount Carmel and did battle with the prophets of Baal? At the end of his victory in that contest, Elijah commanded that all the prophets of Baal be put to death. Jesus made a different choice on Mount Calvary. He let his enemies put him to death. By so doing he introduced a new way to be human – the way of the cross.
The stakes are high as we choose between these options. The mountain of Jerusalem continues to be a place of division and death. Whether the religious meanings attached to Jerusalem are the genuine motives for much terrorism around the world, or simply an excuse for it, the choice by religious people to view the world through the lens of “my mountain is better than your mountain” fuels much of the violence.
Jesus made his choice long before Calvary. We see it on the Mount of Transfiguration. To understand that story we need to go back to the story of Moses on Mount Sinai. The journey of the Hebrews through the desert forms the foundation for the transfiguration story. Today’s passage describes Moses on Mount Sinai, the mountain of God. There was glory, there was a cloud, and there were six days. All those elements were in the Gospel story. But Mount Sinai is only part of the story of exodus and wilderness wanderings. The larger story of the Hebrews helps us understand the transfiguration. Peter’s suggestion to build three tents was consistent with the larger story.
Whenever the Hebrews stopped on their journey, they believed God dwelt in a tent they set outside the camp. God hovered above that same tent in the form of a cloud by day and fire by night as it was carried along their journey. The final sentences of the Book of Exodus read: “When ever the cloud was taken up from the tent, the Israelites would set out on each stage of their journey; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the Lord was over the tent by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, before the eyes of all the house of Israel at each stage of their journey.”
So Peter wasn’t as off base as we often think in his desire to make the Gospel scene a stopping point along the way. Even as Peter spoke a cloud overshadowed them & a voice said, “This is my Son the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” That’s the challenging and fearful part. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” Then they saw no one except Jesus. There is the comfort and clarity.
The next thing the disciples knew they were coming down the mountain to a scene that reminded them that life continued just as it had before their mountaintop experience. Jesus was teaching them that things were different this time around. The only tents of dwelling would be their own bodies that are mostly on the move, and only occasionally stop to rest.
Perhaps we shouldn’t be so critical of today's Peters for wanting to prolong great mountaintop experiences. Good for them (or us!). It's worth a try. But when those experiences are genuine, we encounter something bigger than ourselves – something that is challenging and fearful on the one hand, and comforting and clear on the other; something that tap into deep parts of us. Those deep parts are genuine, even though they may not be able to immediately face the light of day once we go down the mountain. While we're up there with Jesus & company it's good to remind ourselves that all genuine religious experiences point to God. Religious highs that are no more than that & are used to hype us on experiences, not God, can't prepare us for the journey down the mount, nor for the challenges lie at the bottom. Like Peter, we too must realize that things are different this time around. Somewhere along the line we became God's tent! When it's time to move on, it's time to move on. And we pitch ourselves somewhere else – wearing our tent inside us. We are God's glory, God's tent, even the echo of God's voice, still & small or loud & clear.
What is God’s glory? It’s the reflection of God from inside, not outside. It doesn’t mainly happen to celebrities, and it’s not about what happens on stage. It’s what happens inside us when we're prepared to live & suffer for right & love. What changes in transfiguration is not so much the scene around us; it’s us. Let me see if I can help you picture this. The first time I flew into Mexico City I was coming from Central and South America. Flying into Bogota, Colombia and San Jose, Costa Rica was inspiring, because the lush green was all around. To land in Mexico City was to sink into a smoke-filled desert-like valley that simply looked dry & desolate. But today when I fly into Mexico City I don’t see smoke and desolation. I am filled with the expectation of seeing old friends and connecting to great memories. What changed? I assure you it wasn’t Mexico City. The change happened in the way I experience Mexico City.
So in today’s scriptures one mountain is shrouded in clouds when Moses and Joshua go up, and the other is overshadowed when Jesus was transfigured before the disciples. Laurel Dykstra wonders, “was it Jesus who changed or was it that John, James and Peter could now see the face of God shining in the man they knew? Did the thin air and the elevated perspective contribute to their clarity of vision? When they came down from their mountaintop, did they take their new capacity to see into the low places and crowded city streets? Can we? And when we see the face of God shining through those who are familiar to us, do we truly, deeply listen to them?” (Sojourners, April 2008, p. 56)
Today Jesus is far more likely to be crucified by 'collateral damage', land mines, razor wire, terrorist bombs, police brutality, refugee camps, globalization, &c, than on a cross. Those too busy looking backwards, or in other wrong directions, and those trying to hang on to mountaintop experiences, can't see that. So people end up being disfigured rather than transfigured – both those who do it, & those who suffer it. I think this has something to do with what the younger generation is saying about the church. The church isn’t making enough connections between the instructive stories from the past and the stories that demand our attention in the present.
How can we do better in that? I think one answer is another dimension of the Transfiguration story. Jesus used this experience to teach some important life lessons to a few of his followers. On that mountaintop he helped them see who he was with enough clarity so that they could see the world in the right light. That’s what Jesus did with them throughout his ministry. When I was growing up in the faith I called that “discipling.” Today I would call it “mentoring.” Last weekend a group of Immanuel men gathered for dinner and conversation. We told stories of times that we had been mentored and times that we had mentored others. It was a powerful and inspiring time for me as I learned new things about some guys I’ve known for years.
Several men shared stories about mentors who had trusted them with responsibilities even when they hadn’t earned that trust. One told us that he became a teacher because of several men who had organized informal sports teams among neighborhood children like him who had no other way to gain access to competitive athletics. Several gave examples that showed the importance of vulnerability, forgiveness and acknowledging mistakes between them and their mentors. They spoke about people they had mentored coming back and inspiring them. They were teachers in Guatemala who also published manuals about organic agriculture; they were research assistants and University professors in Mexico; they were educators of at risk youth in Los Angeles.
I wonder if the church might be transfigured if more of us offered ourselves as mentors to our youth. Can we be vulnerable? Can we admit our mistakes? Can we forgive and let others forgive us? Perhaps if we can, then together generations of the faithful might make different choices. No longer will we say, “My God’s mountain is better than your God’s mountain.” We will say, “You and I seem to have some of the same longings. Maybe we can work together to create something beautiful.” No longer will we try to put up tents on the mountain. We will be the tents of God’s presence in the world. So let’s sing about our time on the mountain. But let’s sing it from the real world, so that our mountaintop experiences will make a real difference there.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
