God Moments
Matthew 17:1–9
Transfiguration Sunday
February 3, 2008
University Christian Church, Seattle, Wa
Rev. Sandy Messick

• Celtic spirituality calls them thin places. They are defined as places “where the veil that separates the eternal from the temporal grows thin and becomes permeable, so that in such places, the things of heaven are felt and experienced with greater clarity.” In other words, they are places where God’s presence is particularly felt; where God’s immanence is made known.
• For the Celts, they tend to be geographical places. There are a number of them throughout England, Ireland, Wales, and Scotland. Some are well known, like Iona, Scotland, some less known. Many of them are monasteries or churches built on places of legends, like Glastonbury in England, where legend has it that Arthur and Guinevere are buried, and where, again according to legend, Joseph of Arimathea, the one who donated his gravesite for Jesus, supposedly arrived with the holy grail and stopped to rest. Legend tells how he thrust his staff into the ground where it sprouted and grew into the famous Glastonbury Thorn Tree located on the abbey grounds. It is to these holy sights that pilgrims travel, to experience the presence of God in a real and different way, much as Jews and Christians might travel to Jerusalem, and Muslims travel to Mecca. Some of us have our own holy sights. Places we go to experience God, or conjure up memories of encounters with God. Many of the young people in the Region would point to our church camps, Gwinwood and Zephyr as those holy places. I know, for some of you, this sanctuary is such a place. A thin places where the holy breaks through the ordinary and where God is especially made known.
• In our scripture reading this morning, Peter, James and John traveled to a thin place. They didn’t know they were going on a pilgrimage of course. For them it was an ordinary day in the company of Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Let’s go for a walk” and led them up a mountain.
• Church tradition has named the mountain as Mt. Tabor. Three churches have been built upon this mountain remembering the transfiguration. Others, though, point to the possibility that it was Mt. Hermon which would have been closer to where Jesus supposedly was when the story took place. The truth is, we don’t know for sure. We only have the story.
• And the story is that Jesus led them up the high mountain and was transfigured before them. The Greek word for transfigured is “metamorpho” as in metamorphosis. It is the same word we’d use for the change a caterpillar makes as it becomes a butterfly. Jesus is literally changed before them. Scripture tells us that his face shown brightly like the sun and that his clothing was dazzling white. When Mark tells this story he adds that Jesus’ clothing was whiter than any bleach could make them.
• It’s not that Jesus suddenly became divine, but that the divinity that was already in Jesus broke through and the disciples could see and experience him in a new way. It was a God moment. For that moments, and perhaps throughout his ministry and even today, Jesus himself was a thin place. Through him, God was made known.
• And not only that, but Jesus was suddenly there with two of the greats from the past, Moses and Elijah. Tradition had it that both of these two would reappear at the time of the Messiah, and here they were, talking with Jesus.
• But Peter didn’t know what to do with that. He began to babble. “Jesus, it’s good that we are here, because we can build a booth. No, three booths. One for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” I can just picture him with his tape measure, marking off space for the booths, making lists of supplies to get from Home Depot. So overcome with the emotion and experience of the moment that he has to distract himself with the mundane. Or perhaps, so taken with the moment that he wants to preserve it for all time by enshrining it in a place, building a monastery or church on top of a sacred space. Hoping to capture that special God moment so he can return to it time and time again. “Jesus, it’s good we are here, so we can build a memorial to this moment.” Because isn’t that what we do when we encounter God and can’t quite figure out what to do with that.
• But Matthew tells us that “while he was still speaking…” While Peter was still babbling on about lumber and nails and floor plans, God spoke. “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him.” Listen to him. Don’t build monuments, or get distracted by busy tasks, or plan your next step even as you are experiencing the moment. But listen to him. Listen.
• And the disciples fell on their faces, overwhelmed with awe.
• Afterwards, Jesus touched them on the shoulder and led them back down the mountain into the ordinary world and told them not to speak of it again until after the resurrection. But I wonder…did they remember? In the dark nights ahead of persecution, of betrayal, or fear and disappointment, did those three look back on that moment when God had met them in that thin place, when God had spoken to them in real and profound ways, when God’s presence had been made known.
• For those disciples that mountain would never be the same. And they would never look at Jesus the same. But do those moments happen only in those particular places? Are thin places only locations, geographical landmarks, or could it be that God is present wherever we are, in all the places we are, waiting to break through, waiting for our eyes to be opened, waiting for us to see?
• I wonder sometimes what really happened up there on that mountain. Was it that God decided to reveal Godself in a unique way that didn’t happen before and hasn’t happened since? Or was it that in that moment the eyes of the disciples were opened enough to see the God who was there all along.
• They say that seeing is believing, and that is certainly true enough. But I wonder if it might also be true that sometimes you have to believe in order to see.
• Could the disciples have missed that transfiguration moment if their eyes were closed to the possibility of who Jesus was? Could you travel to one of the Celtic thin places and see only the beauty of the scenery and notice only a crumbling church and never encounter God? Could it be that God is breaking through all over the place but we never notice because we are rushing from one place to another, busy in our own agendas of building the kingdom of God, with whatever definition we are using to get there, and not being open to the possibility that perhaps God is breaking through in new ways. How often is God calling out to us, showing us Jesus in our midst, saying “This is my beloved Son, listen to him,” but we are too busy building booths?
• Remember the movie, “Field of Dreams,” in which Kevin Costner plays an Iowa farmer named Ray who, after hearing a voice, decides to plow up his farmland and build a baseball field? That was the movie that the first President Bush said “he couldn’t figure out and could someone please explain it to him.” Anyway, soon after Ray built the field, baseball players start to arrive. Long dead baseball players who arrive and disappear through a cornfield and who play baseball and work through their issues and stories. But not everyone can see the baseball players. Particularly, Ray’s brother-in-law who doesn’t see the field as a thin place where heaven and earth meet, but only as a waste of good farmland. He’s encouraging Ray to give up the field, turn it back into farmland and save his family farm. Near the end of the movie as Ray and his family are watching the baseball players play, the brother-in-law arrives and starts berating them for sitting out there watching an empty field. He can’t see the baseball game in progress. During the argument, the young daughter falls from the bleachers and isn’t breathing. One of the baseball players, who became a doctor in later life, steps forward, magically changing from baseball player to country doctor and dislodges the hot dog stuck in the girl’s throat. But he can’t go back to playing baseball. He has made his decision, chosen the saving of a life, and amid the accolades and appreciation of the other players, walks back across the field and disappears into the stalks of corn. The brother-in-law who has witnessed this life-saving and giving act suddenly remarks, “When did these ballplayers get here?” Suddenly, believing, he is able to see. Suddenly he is able to see that which was there all along.
• Where is God breaking through? Where is God trying to reveal Godself in our midst? Must we wait for a transfiguration moment when God hits us over the head with God’s presence? Must we travel across oceans to visit those thin places in old countries, places steeped in lore and legend? Or could it be that God is breaking through, here in this place, in our lives, calling out to us, “Listen to my beloved son, listen.”
• The story is told of a native American walking along with a friend on his first visit to New York City. Suddenly, the visitor stops and says, “Do you hear that? I hear a cricket.” His companion, and travel guide, a native of the city looks around at the people rushing from place to place, listens to the sounds of car horns, and traffic rushing by, and music blaring, and people talking. “A cricket! How could you possibly hear a cricket in all this noise?” “No, I heard it,” said the visitor. Then he led them across the street to a corner park, and pulling back the branches of a bush, discovered the tiny cricket. “You must have exceptional hearing,” the New Yorker said in awe. “Not at all,” said the man. “It’s all in what you’re listening for,” and he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of change and tossed it on the ground. Immediately, the crowd of people rushing past, stopped, and turned their heads in his direction.
• Those who have ears to hear…listen.