Following Jesus in the 21st century

“…If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me’’ (Matt 16:24)

Matthew 16:21-27 (Year A: Twelfth Sunday after Trinity 3^rd September 2017)

There is a small irony in this Sunday’s reading. Last Sunday, we heard about the ‘conferring of the keys’ on Peter the rock of the Church (‘the first Pope’ as some might try to argue). This Sunday, directly following on from that discourse, we hear about Peter being  called a  ‘stumbling block’ (ironically, because he was already named by Jesus as ‘rock’ or Cephas in Aramaic).

Jesus did not mince his words when he said to Peter: ‘Get behind me, Satan’.  Of course, later on in the Gospels, we learn that Peter would betray the Lord three times and that, following this, he would be forgiven and strengthened by Him. 

Like Peter, we can also be stumbling blocks for others on life’s journey. By our attitude, assumptions and ways of thinking we can become, not instruments of peace, healing and unity, but instruments of discord, damage and animosity. 

Being a stumbling block is one thing. Failing to recognise it and do something about it is quite another matter.  We can be stumbling blocks by our attachment to self or others while ignoring the demands of love and inclusion.  Many are those deterred, scandalised and alienated because they cannot see the light of Christ in our lives including our conversation, our attitude, actions and ways of living. 

To follow Jesus in the 21^st century calls for radical rethinking. We must remained anchored to scripture and, indeed, to tradition where tradition is necessary and still relevant. However, the call to unity in a diverse and often divided world is a call to embrace the freedom of the cross.

There are presentations of spirituality and indeed Christianity that sanitises the larger story into one of two ‘heresies’:

• The road to heaven is all blood, sweat and tears – the more suffering the better this side of death (the resurrection barely gets a mention if at all).
• The road to heaven is all sweetness and light where souls peacefully and gracefully move along to the final destination with the minimum of discomfort and challenge.

In a way both ‘heresies’ are two sides of the same coin. They effectively deny the death-resurrection of Jesus as something life-changing and world-changing both then and now. There is a failure to see the larger picture and draw the necessary conclusions. To carry our cross, daily, is to really share in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. This is what 21^st century Christian discipleship calls for – nothing more or nothing less.

Self-denial in the taking up of our crosses is not about running from the world or our responsibility for change. Neither is it a denial of our very own humanity with all its complexity, fragility and need. It is about being open to our real selves re-discovered in a new relationship.  Such is the price of freedom and in denying ourselves, taking up our cross and following Jesus wherever he leads us is the royal road to true human freedom and fulfilment.

This passage of the gospel is well reflected in the words of a great Christian mystic, theologian and martyr of the last century, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), shortly before his execution by the Nazi regime in 1945:

Stations on the Road to Freedom

Discipline  

If you set out to seek freedom, then learn above all things to govern your soul and your senses,
for fear that your passions and longings may lead you away from the path you should follow.
Chaste be your mind and your body, and both in subjection, obediently, steadfastly seeking the aim set before them;
only through discipline may a man learn to be free.

Action  

Daring to do what is right, not what fancy may tell you,
valiantly grasping occasions, not cravenly doubting –
freedom comes only through deeds, not through thoughts taking wing.
Faint not nor fear, but go out to the storm and the action,
trusting in God whose commandment you faithfully follow;
freedom, exultant, will welcome your spirit with joy.

Suffering 

A change has come indeed.
Your hands, so strong and active, are bound; in helplessness now you see your action is ended;
you sigh in relief, your cause committing to stronger hands; so now you may rest contented.
Only for one blissful moment could you draw near to touch freedom;
then, that it might be perfected in glory, you gave it to God.

Death 

Come now, thou greatest of feasts on the journey to freedom eternal;
death, cast aside all the burdensome chains, and demolish the walls of our temporal body, the walls of our souls that are blinded,
so that at last we may see that which here remains hidden.
Freedom, how long we have sought thee in discipline, action, and suffering;
dying, we now may behold thee revealed in the Lord. 

Asking the question

“…But who do you say that I am?’’ (Matt 16:15)

Matthew 16:13-20 (Year A: Eleventh Sunday after Trinity 27th August 2017)

Every so often we may stop and wonder; stare and think; appreciate and move on.  The gospels contain one such ‘stop and wonder’ moment when Jesus asks what seems like a very simple question. It ran something like this:

I have been with you some time. We have had great times together and we have had hard times together. I never promised you that it would be easy.  You heard my call and you followed me.  Others did likewise.  News about us spread throughout the country. Some said I was a great prophet – even the greatest, others said I was a trouble maker and a fraud while others, still, said I was from the Evil One.  But, you – what do you think?  Who do you say I am? Why are you still following me? Who am I to you?

For today on this God-given Sunday, we are asked the same question.  ‘Who is Jesus Christ for you?’ ‘What does Jesus Christ mean for you today?’ ‘Does it matter?’ ‘What difference does Jesus make to my life today?’

Sometimes, we over-complicate our lives, and religion too. We think of religion (and God) as a set of ideas or a set of ‘do’s and don’ts’. We might even think of religion and God as a form of life assurance policy ‘just in case’. That is, ‘just in case it is true in some sense’ or ‘just in case I need a crutch when confronted with sudden and unbearable suffering’. Or, perhaps, religion and God is a convenient and socially acceptable way of maintaining family traditions. After all, what is the harm in baptising children if, subsequently, in a church-affiliated school it means they get a good ‘Christian’ education in self-discipline, duty and care of others?

But, who is Jesus for you today?

If religion is more than a set of ideas and a list of ‘do’s and don’ts’ then perhaps it is above all about a personal relationship with the living God revealed to us in the here and now and grounded in an actual living community? I suspect that the Great Decline in religious practice and belief is more to do with issues about relationship than anything else. There will be no Great Revival without a radically new set of relationships – relationship to God at the deepest level in our hearts. bodies and minds (the three are not strictly separable) and relationship with others (God, let is be said loud and clear, is not to be found alone without entering into communion with others).

So, this Sunday’s Gospel passage is very timely and very meaningful. We need, each of us, to ask the question.  And, perhaps for now, not seek to answer the question in a hurry or in a way that is tidy, exact and definitive. Rather, let God speak to us in the question with every passing moment and breath.

After all, it was not ‘flesh and blood’

…that revealed this to Peter but his Father in heaven. It was a work of grace. Peter received a calling and a trust that would be the rock foundation (the Kephas to use the Aramaic term that Jesus gave to Simon at the time of his calling) on which the early Christian community would be founded.  It is likely that the word ‘Church’ or ekklêsia in the Greek was added much later than the initial oral reporting of Jesus’ words).

It may be noted that the much contested ‘conferring of the keys’ verse (Matthew 18:19) is unique to this Gospel is not found in either Luke or Mark which are, in other respects, mirrors of Mathew 16:13-16.

Verse 18 of Chapter 16 is unique to the Gospel of Matthew (was it added later to address particular concerns and was it indicative of tensions in the Christian community around the 80s when Matthew was written?). And while some might base a strong theology of papalism on verse 18 of chapter 16 in one of the four canonical gospels, they seem to gloss over two verses two chapters on in this same gospel of Matthew.  The conferring of the ‘keys of the kingdom’ with the use of the rabbinical ‘binding and loosing’ instruction anticipates the very same words in Matthew 18:18-19):

 Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven.

Matthew 16:18 and Matthew 18:18-19 need to be read together.  ‘Where two or three gather in my name…’ is the essence, meaning, source and destination of the ekklêsia  - literally a ‘gathering together of people’ in the ancient Greek. 

(ekklêsia  appears over a hundred times in the New Testament but hardly ever in the Gospels except in the Gospel of Matthew where it appears only here and in Matthew 18:17, whereas, the word ‘kingdom’, as in heavenly kingdom or kingdom of God, pops up over 100 times in the four Gospels with the Greek word, basileia or some grammatical variation on basileia).

Both passages (Matthew 16:18 and 18:18-19) have been cited by Christians through the ages to strengthen a particular emphasis or latter-day arrangement for Church authority and governance. The Primus inter Pares (first among equals) of Peter is clear to most.   However, we should not jump to conclusions about modern-day patterns of church governance on foot of sweeping generalisations or extrapolations from one or two sentences of the Gospel taken in isolation. Neither should we ignore or dismiss the actual and historical evidence about the key unifying and leadership role of Peter and those who came after him in that place (Rome) where, by tradition, he was martyred and on whom the visible communion of disciples was built. Our eldest brother in faith, Peter and those who came after him – for all their faults and errors – were and are important signs of potential (and actual) communion. The Church breathes with two lungs – East and West and is founded on the rock of Peter as well as the brotherhood of equals called in Christ.

Was it on the person of Peter that the Church was built or simply on his faith and that of the community of disciples of whom Peter, apparently, was the lead spokesperson or actor? I reckon that both understandings are not mutually exclusive. In any case, the Church universal as well as the Church local was and is built on the blood of martyrs – even today in Egypt, Syria, Iraq and Pakistan. Let us never forget.

But, we would be missing the point of the Gospel 

...if we were to focus on some of these latter day controversies. Likewise, we would be missing the point if we were to understand the conversation between Peter and Jesus as a type of Viva examination of an academic thesis into the Theological Status of the Son of God (although, clearly, this is important too in its own place and time).

Jesus’ question to Peter ‘who do you say I am’ is essentially a question about what does Jesus mean for Peter. It is about their relationship and how they relate. It is an ‘I Thou’ dialogue (Martin Buber)

For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ. (1 Corinthians 3:11)

Ultimately, it is on Christ that the Church is built and it has no other rock or leader or example than the humble shepherd of Galilee – Jeshua or Jesus who continues to work today through each and all.

Listening to women

“…Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.’ (Matt 15:28)

Matthew 15:21-28 (Year A: Tenth Sunday after Trinity 20th August 2017)

This Sunday’s Gospel story presents a challenge on two fronts. In the first place, we find ourselves with Jesus in what would have been considered as a foreign place among foreign people. Remember that in the running order of Matthew’s 15^th chapter we have just read about an argument between Jesus and some Pharisees and Scribes who were taking issue about the Law including ritual cleansing practices.

Now, in the district of Tyre and Sidon a Canaanite, a foreigner, came forward and ‘started shouting’ at Jesus, a Jew, in search of help. Why would a devout Jew respond to a foreigner for help?  Was Jesus trying out the patience and trust of others around him by deliberately not answering this Canaanite (in other words ignoring her)? Even then, he provided, according to Matthew, what might be considered an abrupt and rude response by declaring ‘it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs’.  If ever Jesus might be accused of political incorrectness and Ethno-religious discrimination here was a prime example! (Canaanites would have been regarded, generally, in Jewish society as a sinful and godless race to be shunned if not exterminated).

But, the Canaanite persisted and, this time, on her knees. She had a daughter who was seriously ill. And mothers, as we all know, will go to any length when it comes to their children – child or adult.  We may note that the woman persisted without being presumptuous. She did not presume that Jesus would perform a miracle. And, she did not argue with his blunt parable about giving food to the ‘dogs’. She used the parable to continue pleading by suggesting that even the dogs can eat the crumbs that fall from the masters’ table.  How often do we see an honesty and realism in those outside our comfort circles?

There is, however, a second challenge. Not only was a foreigner shouting at Jesus but the foreigner was a woman. Not for the first or last time, women feature prominently in stories about Jesus – albeit within the overall cultural constraints of 1st-century culture in that part of the world.

Consorting with women – especially the racially and religiously unclean not to mention those of fallen behaviour – was a big ‘No No’ for a 1^st century Rabbi.  Yet again, Jesus is turning the tables on aspects of religious thinking and religious practice. Before we might dismiss this observation as irrelevant and of no consequence to 21^st century Christians reading the Gospels, we might reflect on the very real phenomenon whereby not a few Christian gentlemen and women organise breakaway congregations or change of church membership because the tradition from where they come has started to ordain women as deacons, priests or bishops (Frankly, this blogger could think of better reasons for starting an ecclesiastical schism than over these matters!).

Being in a foreign place with ‘the others’, Jesus was confronted with a pleading mother for her sick daughter. She addressed him in the following terms: ‘Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon’.  So often, in the course of his short three-year ministry, Jesus is confronted with pleas for help, mercy and curing. In the culture of the time, long-term debilitating sickness, sin and blame were pretty much all of the same in the minds of most devout people (and, lest anyone succumb to Arian heresy) Jesus, as well as being God, was also ‘fully human’ meaning that He didn’t know everything about 21^st century neuropsychology, Astro-physics and nanotechnology (not that 21^st century scientists, theologians and other specialists know it all, either).

The sick, the blind, the lame, the troubled, the sinful and others knew two things about Jesus:

1. Jesus literally took ‘pity’ on people
2. Jesus had power to perform extraordinary healings.

 (The words ‘Kyrie Eleison [Ἐλέησόν] from the Greek or ‘Lord have mercy’ used in the Eucharist means the same).

But, there are two other points that arise in the context of this unusual encounter that we should be sensitive to.

First, it appears that Jesus was very much of the understanding and view that he was sent by the Father to the ‘House of Israel’, only.  It looks as if he modified his stance when this foreigner pleaded with great simplicity, trust and, above all, anguish because she wanted nothing more than the healing of her very sick daughter. The mother had heard the pleas of her daughter and Jesus had heard the pleas of the mother. The Gates of Heaven were opened to a miracle as Jesus acted on the plea of mercy. Did the foreigner play a vital role at this point in the ministry of Jesus in helping Jesus – who was fully human as well as divine – to broaden his understanding and revise his mission plan?  Is there a lesson for us today?  Are we really listening to an anguished world?  Are the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit trying to tell us something today in the anguish and needs of others around us including those very different to us by reason of creed, race, sexual orientation or political affiliation?

Second, the one who did the pleading was a woman. How often, are the voices of women excluded from the realms of politics, theology, government and family life. It may be that much progress has been made in the last century in parts of the Northern hemisphere. However, many cultures treat women as second class citizens without rights to representation, property and participation.  Christian churches in their governance and ministry practice – even in the assumed liberal regions of the globe – act and theologise blind to the cultural biases they have inherited.  The story of the Canaanite women in Matthew 15 is a challenge to such mind-sets.

in this story, compassion rather than convenience and set-in-concrete tradition seized this moment when confronted with a pressing, persistent, humble, trusting request arising from human suffering the God of compassion worked a miracle.

Put another way, the story of the foreigner and the woman from Canaan in Matthew 15 tells us that:

• Faith works
• People matter
• & God rules

The following or similar words might help as we approach the Eucharist or Table of the Lord this Sunday:

We do not presume to come to this your table, merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness but in your manifold and great mercies.
We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under your table.
But you are the same Lord, whose nature is always to have mercy.
Grant us, therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of your dear Son Jesus Christ,
and to drink his blood, that our sinful bodies may be made clean by his body, and our souls washed through his most precious blood, and that we may evermore dwell in him and he in us. Amen.

 (taken from the Book of Common Prayer used in the Church of Ireland)

Floating on trust

“…Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’’ (Matt 14:27)

Matthew 14:22-33 (Year A: Ninth Sunday after Trinity 13th August 2017)

The story of Jesus walking on the waters, as recounted in the 14^th chapter of the gospel of Matthew, is a familiar one and resonates with a number of other stories in the life of Jesus.  For some reason, it reminds me of crossing a rope bridge over choppy waters or sliding into an MRI machine!

We look down (or up as the case may be) and we panic for a moment. Then, a calm voice reassures us: ‘Peace!’ ‘I am with you’ or ‘All will be well’.

The story of ‘walking on the waters’ is part of a series of episodes from chapter 13 through to chapter 18 where Matthew tells how the disciples were prepared and formed by the teaching and miracles of Jesus before the decisive events at the close of Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem.

The story has parallels in the gospels such as in the post-resurrection story found in the gospel of John when Peter swims rather than walks towards Jesus (John 21:1-8).  An earlier story is found in Matthew (8:23-27) where there is a storm at sea involving the apostles but, in this case, Jesus is already in the boat when the storm breaks out.  The episode recounted in chapter 14 follows the miraculous feeding of the crowd and comes before the definitive confession of faith by Peter in the Christ found in Chapter 16 of that gospel. There is a touch of a resurrection narrative about this passage from Matthew.

Writing for a mainly Jewish Christian audience, Matthew is anxious to stress the continuity of God’s saving power in the life of Jesus in such manner that all who follow Jesus become part of God’s salvation story first told among his chosen people and now told to the whole world.  

Detailed consideration of the passage

v.22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.

Following the miracle of the multiplication of loaves, it is now evening time and dark is descending. Later that night Jesus would see the rising danger for his disciples. Going with the gospel of John, the summary and pressing dismissal of the crowd may reflect pressure on Jesus to make him king (John 6:14-15). On this supposition, Jesus needed to get the disciples out of the way quickly, and having dismissed the crowds, to retreat to pray on his own. This was no time for king-making or misrepresentation of the kingdom message.

v.23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone

There is a pattern of drama here following the miracle of the loaves and preceding the walking on the waters. Matthew, in his ordering of events, is preparing the reader for the climactic revelation of Jesus as the new messiah who will act in the power of God as witnessed through his power over nature. To pray on his own, Jesus gives a pattern to those who might follow in his steps. 

Apart from the testing time in the desert (Matthew 4), the only other time Jesus prays on his own, according to the record of Matthew, is when he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane on the eve of his crucifixion. Could Matthew’s reference to Jesus going up the mountain to pray reflect an intended link to Moses who prayed on Mount Sinai? Like Moses, Jesus is in intimate conversation with his Father – on his own. Was Jesus interceding for his disciples in the boat? These parallels are very possibly intended by the author of Matthew given his audience and given his overall theological purposes.

v.24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them.

The translation of ‘battered’ from the Greek word basanizomenon which literally means ‘tortured’ is rendered as ‘tossed’ in the King James Version. We can only imagine that the disciples were weary and greatly afraid as well as unsure of their whereabouts in the dark as they were driven off course at some considerable distance from the shore.

v.25 And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea.

Sometime between 3 a.m. and 6 a.m. (the ‘fourth watch of the night’), Jesus walked towards the beleaguered and exhausted disciples. There is a precedent for God’s miraculous and all-powerful work over the chaos and danger of waters in a number of places in the Old Testament including Psalm 77:19, Psalm 107:25-32 and Job 9:8. 

v.26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear.

In Mark’s account, the disciples were ‘astounded’, ‘terrified’ or ‘troubled’ depending on which English translation is used.  A similar word is used to describe the reaction of the apostles to the appearances of Jesus after his resurrection. It is likely that the disciples’ fear was linked to the sight of what could have been a ghost rather than, primarily, the stormy conditions on the sea that night.

v.27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

The discrete use of ‘It is I’ strongly hints at divine power at work in Jesus where Yahweh revealed himself from the burning bush as the one who is (Exodus 3:14).  There can be no mistaking, however, the link to the action of Yahweh resonating among a Jewish audience listening to or reading Matthew. The prophet Isaiah wrote (14:13):

For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Do not fear, I will help you.”

This is exactly what Jesus proceeds to do next. The use of Old Testament ideas and language fits with a Matthean style of extensive use of such sources to back up the message that Jesus is the new Moses or Messiah and that what was foreshadowed in the Old Testament matches the gospels ‘so that it may be fulfilled’.

v.28 Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

Some scholars question if Peter actually walked on the waters and that a miraculous event – as described in Matthew – took place at all. Some speculate that the story may reflect a post-resurrection experience retold and reworked into Jesus’ earlier life. However, others suggest that no definitive conclusion can be drawn as to the historicity of the walking on the waters. While doubt may be raised in relation to many details of the gospel stories it is striking how little direct evidence sceptical scholars have produced to assert the unlikelihood of particular events.

v.29 He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus.

And Jesus does exactly as Peter asked and calls him. What Peter did next was, characteristically of him, rash and reckless. Having asked Jesus to command him to come to him on the water and having heard the call ‘come’ he got out of the boat and started walking! 

v.30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”

The King James Version of the Bible describes it in this way:

But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.

When Peter ‘noticed the strong wind’ we can conclude that he took his eyes off Jesus for a moment. That was nearly fatal until Jesus stretched out his arm to hold Peter (they must have been near each other by now).  Fear took over when Peter lost sight of Jesus and focussed on the danger. Some scholars see, in this story, a case of individual disciples struggling with adversity and not a case of the ‘church’ struggling. However, many of the patristic sources including Saint Augustine of Hippo writing centuries later clearly identify the boat on the sea as the church.  It seems to me that both points of emphasis are valid and useful for a contemporary reading of this passage of Matthew.

v.31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

There is a strong echo of the consoling words of Isaiah 41:10:

Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.

That victorious right hand is offered – in the person of Jesus – to Peter who has lost his trust for a moment and is sinking.

The doubting reaction of the apostles or disciples found in Mark is somewhat softened in Matthew.           

v.32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased.

The calming of the winds coincides with Jesus’ entering of the boat (strictly speaking ‘storm’ is not mentioned in Matthew 14 whereas it was in Matthew 8). Unique to Matthew is the entry of Peter with Jesus. The reference to the fact that ‘the wind ceased’ seems like an anti-climax. The focus, here, is what is happening to the disciples as well as the actions of Jesus and Peter. Jesus did not calm the seas or restrain the wind to make things easier for Peter to walk towards him. Rather, it was by coming into the boat that calm was restored. This required a gesture of despair, appeal and rescue confirming that God is in charge here but we need to invite him in. For all his recklessness Peter took the lead and walked towards Jesus in trust.

v. 33 And those in the boat worshipepd him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

The hero of this story was not, in the first place Peter. In fact, some may suggest that he was foolish to do what he did and he didn’t pass the faith test with full marks!. The hero of the story is Jesus himself who is proclaimed as The Son of God and worshipped accordingly. The next time his disciples would worship him in Matthew’s gospel would be after his resurrection (Matthew 28:17):

When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted.

After Jesus’ death, we find in Matt 27:54 the testimony of the Roman centurion that ‘truly this man was God’s son’ follows the death of Jesus and the earthquake that accompanied it. It signals an extraordinary event in which God’s power was evident and faith in God’s son was proclaimed. There is a parallel to the story in Matthew 14 following the miracle of the loaves and fish and then the extraordinary events of that night including the storm and the walking on the water.

And so for us today….

Central to this passage in Matthew’s gospel is the power of God in situations of crisis and intense danger and fear. There is a personal message to the individual Christian disciple just as there is a message to the community of disciples gathered together in the name of Jesus.

The storm was not calmed as long as Jesus was not in the boat.  It was only when Jesus joined the disciples in the boat that the wind ceased. Is there a lesson, today, for us who struggle against the storms of life alone or with others? It is when Jesus is in our midst that we can find the way to proceed and find our destination. Walking that rope bridge or easing into that scanning machine in the loving presence of others is a help!

From a distance

‘… they saw no one except Jesus himself alone …..’ (Matt 17:8)

Matthew 17:1-9 (Year A: Eighth Sunday after Trinity 6th August 2017)

 [This passage from the Gospel of Matthew – 17:1-9 is used this Sunday in the Roman Catholic Church.  Other churches sometimes use Matthew 14:13-21.  For a previous blog on this site on the latter passage see here]

The Feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord happens to fall on a Sunday this year.

The drama of what happened on Mount Tabor a long time ago involves heavenly visions, voices, visitations, excitement, joy, fear, awe, reassurance and prophecy.  The story of the Transfiguration is saturated in Old Testament talk and image. Matthew and the community he came from and wrote for were steeped in this world. The reckless and brash Peter is very much of this world outlook. His immediate and impulsive reaction to the extraordinary sights and sounds on this mountain is to offer to make three ‘tents’ or dwellings – one for Moses (communicator of the Law), one for the prophet Elijah (a great Prophet) and one for the new Moses, Law-giver and Prophet of Prophets, Jesus the Christ, who will teach and lead his people to the Promised Land. Instead of a slavish adherence to the Law and the Prophets, Jesus has opened up a new way that fulfils the Law and the Prophets. Instead of Mount Sinai or Tabor, we are on another mountain to the North. Instead of being knowingly in the Cloud of God’s presence, we are with Jesus in the Cloud of human unknowing. Instead of light shining from Moses, the everlasting light shines on us through Jesus who was transfigured before his disciples.

Perhaps we could think of these three tents of Peter as standing for (1) Peace, (2) Contentedness and (3) Freedom. Who doesn’t want these things deep down – for themselves and their others?  This is the Vision Thing. Keep moving towards it even after we have come down from that mountain.

God knows we need relief at times on life’s journey not least when we know that major challenges lie ahead – be it pending surgery and other matters or just the business of growing old year by year and drawing closer to advanced ageing, sickness and death – three things we can be certain about in life.

But if we are certain about these three things we can be encouraged and empowered by three other things: trust, hope and love. These make all the difference to us as disciples on the mountain with others, in a cloud, anxious at times but surprised by joy in the presence of Someone greater than our worries, uncertainties and horizons.  The disciples may not have seen too far that day with the cloud (mist?) on the mountain. It might have been like climbing Slieve Donard in the North East of Ireland to find mist and cloud on the way up and hardly a sight of the town of Newcastle and then to see the clouds suddenly lift while the midgets had a field day on raw pale skin!. 

On life’s journey we need points of rest. Deep rest. There, we sense a peace and a well-ness that is healing. I hesitate to say that we sense a presence because for much of the time our senses indicate absence more than presence. But, in absence, we cling in trust to the idea of presence. That’s all. That’s faith.

And on that mountain we can see matters from a distance.  It reminds one of the words of From a Distance by Julie Gold and sung by Bette Midler

From a distance the world looks blue and green
And the snow capped mountains white
From a distance the ocean meets the stream
And the eagle takes to flight
From a distance there is harmony
And it echoes through the land
It's the voice of hope
It's the voice of peace
It's the voice of every man
From a distance we all have enough
And no one is in need
And there are no guns, no bombs and no disease
No hungry mouths to feed
From a distance we are instruments
Marching in a common band
Playing songs of hope
Playing songs of peace
They are the songs of every man
God is watching us
God is watching us
God is watching us from a distance
From a distance you look like my friend
Even though we are at war
From a distance I just cannot comprehend
What all this fightings for
From a distance there is harmony
And it echoes through the land
And it's the hope of hopes
It's the love of loves
It's the heart of every man
It's the hope of hopes
It's the love of loves
This is the song for every man
From a distance we are instruments
Marching in a common band
Playing songs of hope
Playing songs of peace
They are the songs of every man
God is watching us
God is watching us
God is watching us from a distance
From a distance you look like my friend
Even though we are at war
From a distance I just cannot comprehend
What all this fightings for
From a distance there is harmony
And it echoes through the land
And it's the hope of hopes
It's the love of loves
It's the heart of every man
It's the hope of hopes
It's the love of loves
This is the song for every man

The lyrics from above are taken from: Bette Midler - From A Distance Lyrics | MetroLyrics