Rector's Sermon
19 February 2012

First Reading	Psalm	Epistle	Gospel
2 Kings 2:1–12	Psalm 50:1–6	2 Corinthians 4:3–6	Mark 9:2–9

       As children, we likely had one or two favorite fairy tales we memorized, but still liked them to be told or read to us. Every detail was still important, even though we knew what happened in the end. Fairy tales help bring children into adulthood. To a child, an adult is as overwhelming as the giant of Jack’s beanstalk. The enchanted forest is as bewildering as the new school on the child’s first day; the wicked witch and sorcerer are as evil as those who gain notoriety on the evening news. Yet in the world of healthy fantasy, there are also the themes of honesty, integrity, and kindness that affirm that the universe is not just an endless production of random acts of evil and senseless incidents of cruelty. Fairy tales ultimately make sense when we know how they end—the giant loses its power, the prince or princess is rescued from the tower, and people are able to live happily ever after. In some sense love looks beyond the immediate hardship and challenges ahead, underneath the superficial appearances, and uncovers true beauty and reveals lasting meaning. 

       The Transfiguration is a strange story, servicing both as a reflection upon the past and a vision into the future.  It appears in Mathew and Luke, as well as in Mark. The story becomes the demarcation point, concluding Jesus’ ministry in Galilee and introducing the journey to Jerusalem for Jesus’ judgment and passion. In some way the Transfiguration serves a similar purpose as a fairy tale from childhood. It is a story that prepares us for the ups and downs of discipleship below the exhilaration of mountaintops, much as a fairy tale assures a child of a foundation of morality before confronting an ambivalent and complicated world. Like the tales which begin once upon a time, long, long ago in a far off land beyond the sea, the transfiguration is set in a twilight zone between heaven and earth, between reality and dreams, between the present reality of worldly power and God’s vision of how humanity will live when it is fully redeemed.

       Moses and Elijah were transformational leaders. Today they could have made a good living, leading old companies like Eastman Kodak into a new era. Under God’s guidance, Moses transformed an insignificant group of slaves into becoming the pioneers of a new nation, whose mission was to bless the earth.  Elijah was honored as one of the greatest of prophets, who in his time had the courage to stand up and pronounce judgment on the corrupt rulers of his world. Moreover it was held that in God’s future, it would be the voice of Elijah who would be the messenger and announce the dawn of a new world order, an order established by God on the final Day of Judgment. While the transforming experience on the mountain honors Moses and Elijah, it then directs us to listen to Jesus, for through his suffering and death; God’s order is going to be manifest. It will not be like anything before and it will be more than anything heretofore dreamed of. It will be astounding, and a totally fresh creation. Pay attention to all of Jesus’ teaching, all the parables, the signs, and the healings, but remember that they only make complete sense in terms of Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection. Moreover, you can't comprehend the joy of Easter without recounting the pain and agony of Holy Week and Good Friday. You won't find a resurrected Jesus if you avoid a crucified one. A great gift of our liturgy is that it doesn't allow us to skip from the story of Jesus' healings and the large crowds that come to hear him teach, right into the women's amazing discovery of the empty tomb.

       I don’t know how many of you remember the 1986 movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Obviously some fondly remember it, for it recently had a reprise in an ad during the Super Bowl. It’s worth renting; see that movie and maybe you will understand the Transfiguration a little better. For a day, Ferris and two of his friends take the day off from school and experience an exhilarating adventure, teenagers only dream about. Yet it affirms that there is a larger world out there beyond boring algebra problems and dull Saturdays with nothing to do. Adolescence can be a painful thing to go through, but it doesn’t last forever. One grows out of it and then is faced with all the choices and responsibilities the grand parade of life offers. At day’s end, Ferris and his two pals have to return to reality, but because of the vision of life after adolescence, they are not the same teenagers anymore. Yes they have a lot of growing up to do and will face the music for skipping school and borrowing a car they shouldn’t have, but they caught a glimpse of possibilities not limited by their family situations in which they felt so trapped. The movie ends, the credits come on. It’s been fun and lighthearted, but we who have vicariously experienced the whole day, don’t want it to end.  The credits finish up, the screen goes blank, and then Ferris Bueller appears on the screen looking rather surprised and tells the viewers, “Why are you still here? Go home, go home, it’s over.”

       Renting the classic movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off from Netflix or the big red box at Wegman’s might be a very helpful devotion as we prepare for Lent and begin liturgically to retrace the journey of Jesus and the disciples as they go to Jerusalem. (You probably won’t hear that suggestion in most of the parishes in this diocese.)  Nevertheless, for people of faith, the promise of the Gospel only begins to be transformed into a living hope when we, as disciples, go home to reality and follow Jesus on the way, in our world and in our time.

       And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.