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This Sunday's readings: Sunday next before Lent

by
11 February 2010

by Martyn Warner

Exodus 34.29-end;
2 Corinthians 3.12-4.2;
Luke 9.28-36 [37-43a]


THE snow we had last month was spectacular. I loved it.

By chance, I was in Oxford just after the heaviest fall. It was dreamily beautiful. The silence brought about by the general absence of traffic ushered us into an environment where time seemed to stand still, inviting us to adopt a different pace of life. We also had to be attentive to the difficulties and fears of others, perhaps relearning some forgotten habits of neighbourliness in the process.

I was fascinated by just watching life in the small garden enclosure of the hermitage where I was staying. In the unique quality of light that a snowscape offers, I saw with novel detail the variety of bird life that fed on bright red berries from a bare tree.

With Christmas carols a recent memory, the ability of the medieval mind to equate berries with the drops of Christ’s blood became much more obvious. My brief experience of this unfamiliar world revealed by the snow nevertheless connected with a culture of ancient, biblical faith. That culture saw in nature a kind of story book that could be used to tell the tale of our salvation.

Another example of fascination with the brilliance of the snow is the work of Wilson Bentley from Vermont, in the United States. From the age of 15, Bentley became entranced by the detail of snowflakes. He was the first person in the early 20th century to photograph them. So skilled was his achievement that these early images have remained definitive as examples of a complexity in creation which is entirely transient. Bentley described them as “miracles of beauty . . . no one design ever repeated. When a snowflake melted, that design was forever lost.”

These winter impressions of invading whiteness, silence, beauty, and fascination with the transience of a moment’s revelation all come back to me as I reflect on today’s story of the transfiguration.

The story is not an easy one to assess. Some New Testament scholars have suggested that the episode is a constructed, symbolic account that projects a post-resurrection episode back into the Galilean ministry of Jesus. But it is also found in Mark and Matthew, although some of the details are different. This suggests that these three Evangelists are incorporating into their Gospels the recollection of a brief, transient, spiritual event during the lifetime of Jesus which had made a deep impression on Peter, James, and John.

One of the important themes in this story is that of transition. Moses and Elijah both passed from this world in exceptional ways. Moses died on the far side of the Jordan, forbidden by God from entering the Promised Land (Deuteronomy 34.4-6). Elijah ascended into heaven, bequeathing his spirit to Elisha, his disciple (2 Kings 2.11-14). The transfiguration also marks a transition in the unfolding of Luke’s Gospel.

The Galilean ministry is coming to an end, and Jesus now begins to face the outcome of his vocation. “When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Luke 2.11-14). With these words, Luke draws to a close the chapter in which the transfiguration is placed.

Peter, James, and John will be witnesses to the transition that Jesus makes, first from Galilee to Jerusalem, then from life to death, and finally from death to resurrection life and ascension into heaven. And what part are we to have in this transition?

One of the distinctive aspects of Luke’s transfiguration account is the response of silence from the disciples. This is not something commanded by Jesus: it is their natural response to being enveloped in the cloud of utter whiteness, of extraordinary light, in which they glimpse something elusive and amazing.

The Russian artist Wasily Kandinsky describes the colour white as the symbol of a world that is “too far above us” for us to be able to comprehend it fully. He imagines this world as shrouded from sight by a great silence: “It is not a dead silence, but one pregnant with possibilities.”

Just as the snow last month became an interruption to the normal routine, and an invitation to look more attentively at life around us, so the story of the transfiguration suggests a similar response. Lent will soon begin, and we shall be invited to recover a rhythm of life that retunes us to the patterns of God’s self-giving. This will demand change, sacrifice, and, above all, a willingness to do so that is begotten of our love, not of a fear of divine disapproval.

The silence of serious reflection with which we embark on this season of realignment is indeed a pregnant one. It will be filled with images that challenge our attitudes to the world around us. It will ask how much we see in ourselves that we can love, and how we hope to find more to love in ourselves, and in others, as God does.

But, perhaps most importantly of all, it will ask about transition. How far will we be prepared to go with Jesus? What would we be willing to leave behind, in order to make the journey to the cross, and the freedom it offers?
 I hope you have a hopeful Lent.

Dr Martin Warner is the Bishop of Whitby.

Text of readings

First Reading
Exodus 34.29-35

29Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. 30When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him. 31But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them. 32Afterwards all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the LORD had spoken with him on Mount Sinai. 33When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face; 34but whenever Moses went in before the LORD to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, 35the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.

Second Reading
2 Corinthians 3.12-4.2

12Since we have such a hope, we act with great boldness, 13not like Moses, who put a veil over his face to keep the people of Israel from gazing at the end of the glory that was being set aside. 14But their minds were hardened. Indeed, to this very day, when they hear the reading of the old covenant, that same veil is still there, since only in Christ is it set aside. 15Indeed, to this very day whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their minds; 16but when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. 17Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.

1Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practise cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God.

Gospel
Luke 9.28-36(37-43)

28Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ Peter did not know what he said. 34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And the disciples kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

37On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. 38Just then a man from the crowd shouted, ‘Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. 39Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It throws him into convulsions until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. 40I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.’ 41Jesus answered, ‘You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.’ 42While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. 43And all were astounded at the greatness of God. Everyone was amazed at all that he was doing.


 

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