Last Epiphany, 2008
Feb. 2 and 3, Year A
The Rev. Barbara Schlachter

On a Clear Day you can See Forever.

Six days after Peter has the realization that Jesus is the Messiah, Jesus leads three disciples up a mountain.  We wonder what he told them about this trip.  Or were they used to Jesus leading and their just following. 

A mountain would have been the highest point available in Jesus’ time.  It would have afforded the longest, largest view of the world below.  It was as close to the heavens as they could get.  They couldn’t have imagined an airplane flying over the earth or a picture of earth taken from outer space, floating in a quiet blue and green majestic awe.  From outer space there is no sign of the turmoil occurring in so many places, in so many lives.  There are no boundaries other than water and land.  They couldn’t have imagined a world where we could see anywhere almost instantaneously or believe that rocks that appear so still are teeming with moving atoms.  Their world view was a limited one, compared to ours.

From the top of the mountain what could they see? They would have been able to see plains below, fields of wheat, vineyards, olive trees, the Sea of Galilee, maybe a bit of the Mediterranean Ocean to the west, maybe a hint of Jerusalem to the far south.

But all of that was incidental.  They were going for a rendezvous with destiny, an encounter with the glory of God.  They could have had no idea, of course.  I have been on a mountain when thick clouds started to close in, swirling, cutting off all vision, and the furthest thought from my mind was, this is the Shekinah, the glory of God.  My thought was first, my view is ruined, and secondly, how are we ever going to get down from here safely. 

But when the Shekinah surrounded them, that bright cloud with the voice that boomed out the words from the second psalm--This is my Son, the beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!--they had already been dazzled by Jesus’ face shining like the sun, his clothes a gleaming white, and two figures that they were sure were Moses and Elijah.  They were still standing, Peter was even babbling something about it being good they were there, but now it is far too much.  The Shekinah, the presence of God, the voice of God, sends them to the ground in fear. 

Make no mistake, we would fall in fear, too.  Everyone in the Bible is fearful when they behold the awesome majesty of God.  That is why we read 365 times the assurance, “Do not be afraid.”  Jesus not only says this, but he touches them, he physically reassures them, and tells them, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

It is right to be awed and afraid in the presence of the holy.  Perhaps we have made God such a buddy that we have lost that sense of mysterium tremendum, or perhaps we have just not yet fallen into the hands of the living God.  There are plenty of other things that can terrify us, however, and we know the power of fear, often without the touching reassurance of Jesus.

But it’s not the fear that I want to dwell on.  It’s the vision.  This vision of being in the presence of Moses and Elijah sustained Jesus throughout his journey to Jerusalem and to his death.  When they came down from the mountain it was to Jerusalem they all headed.  Even though the gospels are full of predictions, warnings, etc. that Jesus would die, it’s not certain that any of the disciples understood fully what was coming.  These three disciples were not to tell anyone—if they had would they have been believed? 

Matthew wants us, his readers, however, to know that Jesus had his mountain top experience just like Moses, and that Jesus is the fulfillment of what Moses started.  This is divine vindication of Jesus, of who he is and what is mission is and what his fate is. 

We are given the vision on the mountain top as a sign that God was in charge of what was coming.  That we are to pay close attention, that we are to listen to Jesus carefully.

Jesus has this vision to console him as he heads to the confrontation waiting for him in Jerusalem and the disciples have it as consolation in the days and years to come.

Without a vision the people perish.  That’s not a quote from scripture, but I believe it is a truth of scripture.  The people of the Hebrew Bible had visions, vision after vision, from God.  Abraham that his descendants would be like the stars in the sky and the sands of the seas.  Ezekiel that the bones of Israel would live.  Visions of destruction, visions of rebirth and resurrection for Israel. 

We cannot live very well without a vision.  And so I invite you this morning, to think about your vision.  What is your vision for your life?  For your work?  What is God’s vision for you and are these the same?  What is your vision for our country, here in this time of national decision about who are next president will be?  What is your vision for the world?  What is your vision for this church during this time of visioning about Christ Church and our mission?  Do you have a personal mission statement?  It’s an interesting experience to write one.  A mission statement should take us toward making our vision a reality.  What is your sustaining vision, that keeps you going, that gives you hope.

Ten years ago two parishes had a vision that they would become one.  Ten years ago some of those folks decided that this new parish, Christ Episcopal Church, would become a parish dedicated to Jubilee Ministry—to doing the work of ministry, of healing, of justice, of peace, in this community and beyond.  For ten years Christ Church has been doing this ministry of compassion and mercy.  Is it any wonder you found a rector who would make his theme song “Matthew 25 and all that Jazz? 

This Sunday is our Celebration Sunday for Jubilee Ministry.  I might also point out that it is World Mission Sunday everywhere in the Episcopal Church—that world that Jesus headed down the mountain to die for.  While we are saying what a special day it is, let’s add that yesterday was the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, with Anna and Simeon singing the praises of the baby Jesus and Simeon telling Mary that a sword would pierce her heart also.  The day before was St. Bridget’s Day, often called Mary of the Gael, or Mary of Ireland.  If we walked outside the church to ask people on the street what the day is, we would be told most likely that it is Super Bowl Sunday.  So much for Last Epiphany and World Mission and Jubilee.

But we know, and we celebrate the vision and mission of Jubilee, which is the ongoing vision and mission of Jesus.  Last night in New Orleans, city rising from watery ashes, Mardi Gras was celebrated.  People danced and carried on as they do there before Lent begins, no matter what else is happening in the city.  We are going to get to do a little dancing here this morning in honor of our 10^th anniversary as a Jubilee parish.  For the final hymn, God has Spoken—how fitting, since God spoke from the cloud to affirm Jesus as the beloved of God and to implore us all to listen to him—we will dance.  The choir will not process.  The children’s choir will come forward and lead us all in a grapevine step.  You can come up and join us in front, go to the back or the aisle, or stand in the pew and clap and watch and do a proper Episcopalian tap of your feet. 

We are going to dance this Epiphany season out and this Lenten season in.  It was a short Epiphany, and it seems strange to move from the Baptism of Jesus to the Journey to Jerusalem in three weeks.  But Lent is here on Feb. 6, which is Ash Wednesday.  It may be some consolation that the last time Lent was this early was 1913 and the next time it will be this early again will be after 2089.  So for most of us, it will be the earliest Lent we will ever have.

So, let’s make the most of it.  We celebrate the vision of the people who believed Christ Church could be a parish combined from two others.  We celebrate the vision of the people who believed it was called to be a Jubilee parish.  And we celebrate the vision that is taking us forward to the next ten years and to our ministries in the world.

Amen!