There’s a word we don’t use often outside of church:  transfiguration.  It means to be changed in form, transformed.  And Jesus is indeed transfigured in today’s story.  He takes Peter, James, and John up on the mountain and his clothes become blazing white.  Elijah and Moses (who were long-dead) show up to hang out with him.  Mark tells us that the disciples were “frightened.”  Translation:  they were “freaking out.”

The transfiguration happens right smack in the middle of Mark’s gospel.  Up to this point, people have seen Jesus perform miracles and teach like a wise man, but it’s not clear exactly who he is.  Rumor has it that Jesus is John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets (8:28).  Peter identifies Jesus as the Messiah in Mark 8:29 – but still, he hasn’t seen Jesus fulfill his real purpose yet.  Does he know for sure?

I bet he knows for sure after the transfiguration.

On the top of a mountain, Jesus is changed so that his identity is crystal clear.  God tops it off by speaking from a cloud:  “This is my Son, whom I love.  Listen to him.”  If the Jews of that day were asking, “Will the real Messiah please stand up?” (a la Slim Shady), this is the moment when Jesus stands up.

Jesus is the Son of God.

On the Sunday before Lent begins, we remember the transfiguration partly because Lent is a kind of dark time in the church year.  It’s a time when many of us will try to tame bad habits through acts of self-denial and fasting.  A time when we reflect on our shortcomings and try to let God do a little spiritual house-cleaning.  And before Lent ends, we will celebrate the very darkest moments of Jesus’ life:  his betrayal, condemnation, beating, and crucifixion.  For all of that, we need a source of strength.  We need something we can point to, to give us assurance that all this ends well.

That something can be the transfiguration, a moment where it’s wonderfully clear who Jesus really is.

That something can also be our own mountain-top experiences.  Times that leave our “hearts strangely warmed” (as John Wesley liked to say), times when God feels real and undeniable.

Those somethings can be a source of strength anytime, really, because darkness doesn’t only fall during Lent.  It can come on us anytime.

So – especially if you’re facing darkness now – remember the transfiguration, and know.

The real Messiah is here.

Tuesday, February 14th

• 10am, Gospel of John Bible Study.  Don’t know much about the Bible?  Perfect!  Come when you can and learn more about the most unique gospel.  Contact Rev. Mary:  marywbrown@gmail.com

Thursday, February 16th

• 10:30am, United Methodist Women.  Meeting to elect officers; all women are welcome!  Dutch lunch afterwards.  Contact Jean:  juschme@comporium.net
• 6:30pm, PPR.  Pastor Parish Relations Committee meets to check in with Revs. Mary and Wayne.  Contact Rick:  rikirid@aol.com

Sunday, February 12th

• 9:30am, Prodigal Son Discussion.  Join Rev. Wayne to talk about the current sermon series.
• 10:30am, Worship.  We’ll try and figure out the transfiguration and welcome Craig and Lisa Phillips as new members.
• 11am, Children’s Church.  Ages 3 to 10 join Kim Dulin for a lesson following the children’s sermon.
• 11:45am, Trustees Meeting.  Contact Kevin Dulin:  kevindulin@ymail.com

And mark your calendars for…

• Ash Wednesday Service, 7pm on 2/22.
• Children’s Church Meeting to plan the next month’s lessons, after worship on 12/26.
• Administrative Council Meeting, after worship on 2/26.

Rev. Wayne (our Associate Pastor) did a great job bringing new life to the story by re-telling it as the father.  For example, I had never thought about what the father’s wife’s reaction would have been when he gave his son the inheritance and sent him off.  But more than just that, thinking about how the father felt emphasized a particular quality about our Father to me:

God loves to find the lost.

Remember, this parable is one of three stories that Jesus tells the Pharisees (the religious hardcore) because they’re rolling their eyes at his fraternizing with sinners.

First:  There’s a shepherd with 100 sheep.  When he loses one, he leaves the 99 in open country – vulnerable – to desperately seek out the lost one.  And when he finds it, he tells everyone to celebrate with him.  (Luke 15:4-7)

Second:  There’s a woman who has 10 coins.  When she loses one, she looks everywhere for the one she lost – the fact that she still has 9 is no consolation.  Then, when she finds it, she tells everyone to celebrate with her.  (Luke 15:8-10)

And third:  There’s a father whose son runs off with a good chunk of the family money.  When the son comes home, poor and desperate, the father doesn’t hold a grudge – he throws a party.  But sadly, his older son doesn’t understand.  He’s resentful and jealous.

These three stories explain why Jesus was hanging out with sinners.  It’s because God the Father is like the main characters in these stories, characters who won’t stop until they find what’s lost.  And since Jesus loves God, Jesus wants to find the lost, too.

So, if we love God, then we should want to find the lost, too.  Meaning, not only do we celebrate when someone who has been lost comes back home – we actively participate in that process.

One of the best ways to point someone home to God is to talk about what God has done for you personally.  For me, I can point to how I would feel burdened by guilt if it weren’t for the forgiveness I have through Christ.  Or the wonder I feel when I’m on top of a mountain looking at God’s creation.  Or the purpose that God shines into my life, making it about something more, something joy-filled, something less about me and more about God and others.

What do you point to?

The parable of the prodigal son portrays a father who gave his son the freedom to run off, and didn’t force him to come home.  Appropriate, because God doesn’t force any of us to follow Christ.  Likewise, we Christ followers are not in the business of hog-tying folks, dragging them into worship, and force-feeding them a sermon.  As John Wesley (the guy who started Methodism) liked to say:

Offer them Christ.

The brother plays a crucial part in the ending of the parable – or should I say, the lack of an ending.  We’re left with quite a cliffhanger:  the brother standing outside the party, the father begging him to join in.  What does he do?  Rembrandt’s famous painting hints at this indecision.  Check out the brother (circled)… What is his expression?  Jealous and judgmental?  Forgiving and loving?  Or simply thinking and deciding?

It’s easy to judge the brother for his stubborn pride, but I think we all have a bit of the brother in us.  It shows up when a friend with a wild history makes a change… and we respond with skepticism instead of support.  Or when someone comes back to church after being gone for a long time… and we give them the cold shoulder instead of celebrating.

Those of us who are in church need to remember that Jesus told this parable to the dedicated religious folks.  The Pharisees and the teachers of the law were muttering, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2).  So Jesus tells them a story about a brother who won’t join in the celebration when his lost sibling returns home.  The Pharisees were already playing the part of the brother in their muttering.  Do we play the part of the brother, too?

Remember what we learned when we looked at this story from the point of view of the prodigal son:  It doesn’t matter how lost we are, the Father will always welcome us home.  That applies to everyone, which means:  It doesn’t matter how lost our friends or relatives or fellow church members get, the Father will always welcome them home.  We should do the same.

But it can be hard to let go of our jealous and stubborn side.  If you find yourself standing outside someone’s party, here’s my advice:  Say a prayer for your relationship with that person, and ask God to help you heal and let go.  Our chances of moving on increase dramatically when we involve God in the process.

And anyway, it’s way more fun to join in the party than to sit around muttering.

This week’s text comes from a letter from Paul to the church in Corinth.  Here in chapter 7, he responds to some questions they had about marriage, building to the first line of our focus today:  “What I mean, brothers, is that the time is short.”

It seems that Paul was a little off.

When Paul says the “time is short,” he means short like, ”this world in its present for m is passing away” (7:31). And yet, here we are, almost 2,000 years after Paul wrote these letters, and the present world has not passed away.  If Paul was so far off the mark, is it even worth reading on to the subsequent advice on marriage?

The truth is, Paul was right, even if in a different way than he intended.  Our time on earth *is* short, and none of us knows exactly how long we’ve got.  I don’t want the legacy of my short life to be that I watched a lot of TV and bought some cool clothes.  I want to make the most of the time God has given me.

With that in mind, I’m intrigued to hear what Paul has to say next.  Tell us, brother Paul, how do we make the most of our short time?

“From now on those who have wives should live as if they had none…” (7:29).

In seminary, they’d call a line like that “bad pastoral care.”  Speaking as a wife, I can testify that telling husbands to live as if they weren’t married will get the wives mad at you pretty darn quick.

What’s weird is that Paul has just finished a whole half chapter of advice on marriage.  If you’re married, stay that way, and if you’re single, then good for you, but if you need to get married, then that’s OK too… (obviously my paraphrase is not as elegant as Paul’s writing).  Paul doesn’t seem to have any beef with marriage.  So let’s look at that line again:

“From now on those who have wives should live AS IF they had none…” (7:29).

Ah, the “as if.”  Married folk live AS IF they’re not married.  Those are sad or happy to live AS IF they’re not either.  Those who have a lot of stuff to live AS IF they don’t.

In the words of Billy Chapel, I think the point of all this AS IFing is to clear the mechanism.

For Love of the Game is a baseball movie from 1999 starring Kevin Costner. His character, Billy Chapel, is a 40-year-old pitcher playing potentially the last game of his career, a season-ending match against the Yankees with no hope of going to the post season.  Just before the game, he learns that his team is about to be sold, that he will be forced to be traded or retire, and that the love of his life is on her way to London, leaving him for good.  All that distraction on top of the infamous New York cat calling, the planes flying overhead, the train roaring past…

In order to focus, Chapel mutters to himself, “Clear the mechanism.”  Everything fades into the background, into silence (except for some awesome late-90s guitar riffs).  All he sees is the batter and his catcher.  With that focus, he proceeds to throw the first strike of a perfect game.

There’s a lot of things that can distract us from our real job in this life.  We’re here to serve God and do the most good we can in the short time that we’ve got.  Sometimes, we need to clear the mechanism – we need to life AS IF we had none – and focus in on God.

A spouse can be one of life’s biggest blessings, but also one of life’s biggest distractions.  Heck, the hope of, the search for a spouse can be even more distracting that actually finding one.  But let’s not forget who creates those spouses for us.  We are here to serve the creator, the source of men and women, the source of things that make us happy and sad, the source of any material possession.

Take some time today and identify something that is distracting you from God.  Close your eyes and try to set that aside – clear the mechanism for a few minutes.  Imagine yourself, like Billy Chapel, focusing in on God with everything else fading into the background.

And then, wait.  Once you’ve cleared the mechanism, what is God saying to you?

Some of you might already know that Corinth was a kind of scandalous city in its day.  Its location on a land bridge made it a perfect city for trade and transport.  All that traffic helped make it cosmopolitan and cultural, but also give it a reputation for crime, immoral activity, and prostitution.

Now imagine the folks in Corinth – living in a city where they could indulge in many shady activities with ease – hearing that Christ has taken care of their sins.  Your sins are forgiven!  So they write Paul, “Everything is permissable for me” (6:12), right?  “Food for the stomach and the stomach for food” (6:13) and I can eat whatever I want, right?
I heard a story this week about a student at college campus ministry.  She stood up to give her testimony and said, “Me and God have a great relationship.  I like sinning, and God likes forgiving sins.”  Maybe this was kind of how the Corinthians were feeling.  “Hey, we’re set free from the Law!  We can eat what we want, and do what we want… and God will forgive us.”

As you can guess, the point of this week’s sermon was not, “Go out, therefore, and do whatever you feel like.”  That’s not quite right.  But the tricky part is – why isn’t that right?  After all, Christ did come to free us from the law.  Paul argues the point strongly before the church council in Jerusalem in Acts 19, where he (and Peter) convince the new non-Jewish Christians didn’t have to undergo circumcision.  (That might not be the best evangelism plan.)  In his letter to the Romans he says that we are justified (made right with God) through our faith in Jesus, not through the law (see Romans 3:27-30).

BUT…

Paul also says, “Do we, then, nullify the law by this faith?  Not at all!  Rather, we uphold the law.”  (Romans 3:31).

What?  Isn’t that contradicting?

I can tell you from personal experience that it’s hard to find a balance between basking in Jesus’ forgiveness and clinging to the law.  My young faith was black and white, and my identity as a Christian was defined more by what I didn’t do than by who I had faith in.  Then, in seminary, I learned about grace and felt the fool for beating myself up all those years.  I indulged in the freedom of forgiveness of sins, especially in letting myself off the hook on my daily quiet times.  This may seem like a pretty tame way to indulge in grace, but it was a pretty spiritually deadly way as well.  I rationalized skipping those 15 mintues of Scripture and prayer each day (I’m too tired, and I read theological books all day anyway…), knowing that God would forgive me.  God did, and God does – I’m very sure of that.  But the end result was that my seminary years were a time that felt very spirituall dry, even though I was surrounded by so many friends and mentors of deep faith.

The turning point came for me when I realized that it’s not a choice between grace and works… it’s a life filled with both that God is calling us to.  Paul uses the slavery metaphor:  we are freed from sin, not so that we can go back to sin and serve it again, but so that we can serve a better master (see Romans 6:15-18).

Last week in church we remembered our baptisms; it was a great chance to remember that we are washed in the Holy Spirit, washed in God’s grace through Jesus.  This week might be a good opportunity to reflect on how that grace has freed you from sin to serve God.  How is God calling you to live differently?  How can you better love God and love your neighbor with your life?  We can bravely offer even our worst sins to God because we know they are forgiven.  And God’s work in us doesn’t stop with forgiveness:  God can help us completely free ourselves from sin.

***

Thanks to Ben Witherington for a great lecture on atonement that helped tremendously with this sermon.  http://benwitherington.com/

Confusing Point #1:  Why does Jesus need to be baptized by John?  That sounds like the CEO of a company coming to the hourly worker for approval on a new project.  If John is not even worthy to untie Jesus’ sandals (Mark 1:7), then why does Jesus need or want his baptism?

Confusing Point #2:  John is offering “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (1:4).  Isn’t Jesus without sin?  Wouldn’t that kind of exempt him from needing this baptism?

I can’t say I fully understand this event yet, but here’s a theory.

First, it helps me to look at the word repentance.  That can be translated “change of heart” or “turning from one’s sins” or “change of way.”  Jewish people were coming to John to be baptized because they were making a change – turning from their old ways and making a deeper commitment to their faith.  It was kind of like a revitalization movement within the Jewish faith.  Jesus’ baptism was also a change, maybe we could event say a revitalization; this marks the beginning of his public ministry.

Second, it helps me to remember that Jesus came to offer a different kind of baptism than John.  John said, “I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit” (1:8).  Since Jesus’ baptism is different, Jesus is not becoming a disciple of John’s and he’s not going to pass on the same baptism as John.  He’s simply starting his ministry with John’s baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.

This would be really illuminating if it was clear exactly how baptism with the Holy Spirit is different.  After all, isn’t our Christian baptism a lot about forgiveness of sins?

For me, the Greek myth of King Sisyphus helps explain the difference.  Sisyphus committed one of the worst sins a Greek could commit – that of hubris, excessive pride.  This played out in a variety of interesting and scandalous stories, but to make a long story short he really got himself into trouble when he crossed Zeus, the top Greek god.  Zeus then condemned him to a maddening fate (you might remember this part):  Sisyphus had to push a boulder up a hill for all eternity, only for it to fall back down the hill just as it reached the top.  Up and down, up and down… forever.

John’s baptism plays out kind of like this.  I sin, I repent, I feel forgiven… but eventually, I sin again – and the cycle starts over.  Sin, repent, forgiveness… sin, repent, forgiveness…  Speaking from experience, it’s a maddening cycle.  Something needs to stop it.

And something did.

Through the cross Jesus essentially locked in forgiveness.  That doesn’t mean that repenting is bad – Jesus himself wanted that “baptism of repentance,” so clearly he thought it was good.  But for Jesus – and for us – repentance is not the end.  Jesus started with repentance but ended at the cross and resurrection, ended with a baptism even greater than John’s.

For me, for now, that’s the most helpful part in understanding why Jesus was baptized by John.  It wasn’t the end…  it was the beginning of the salvation that only Jesus could complete.

After the angel appears to them and declares “good news of great joy that will be for all people” (aka, the Christ Child), they drop their staffs and run to Bethlehem to see for themselves.  Which is a great reaction, but not what I’m talking about… after all, they haven’t seen that best Gift yet.

They arrive on the scene and find just what the angels described:  a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.  Along with him are the proud (earthly) parents, Mary and Joseph.  After they’ve seen the Gift for themselves, they do exactly what we ought to do:  They regift it.

“When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them” (Luke 2:17-18).

Regifting is the art of “recycling” a bad gift.  You might take that tacky reindeer sweater from Aunt Betty, re-wrap it, and give it to someone else who shares her bad fashion sense.  This all works fine and well unless you’re caught in the act of regifting (“Why don’t you wear that sweater to my birthday party?”), and then everyone involved feels shame.  Shame for giving away the gift.  Shame for giving a bad gift.  Shame, shame, shame.

But not so for the best Gift ever.

Maybe you’ve received the gift of the Christ Child.  Someone or something pointed you in the right direction, and you had that heart-strangely-warmed experience that told you that Jesus is for real.  In essence, you’ve been to the manger and unwrapped the gift.  Now take a tip from the shepherds:  wrap it up again, this time in your own words.  Talk about what this Christ Child means to you.  Give him to someone else who needs it.

Don’t feel shame if you regift the best Gift ever.  It’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.

The first Christmas that Alan and I exchanged gifts I got thrown for a loop.  First gift exchanges can often be awkward – it’s hard to tell how high the bar is, and no one wants to wildly under- or over-gift their newly beloved.  Little did I expect that on our appointed gift-exchanging date, Alan would roll my present in on a hand truck, covered in a black trash bag and topped off with a red bow.  Surprise…  my new boyfriend had gotten me a TV.  Not the most romantic gift, perhaps, but I knew it meant he intended to keep spending time at my apartment for a long time to come… and that surprise left me grinning ear to ear well into the New Year.

If you’re not convinced that good gifts involve surprises, look at the way we wrap all our presents.  We don’t leave them unwrapped and exposed under the Christmas tree or on the gift table at a birthday party – we hide their contents.  Even when we suspect what might be inside, we enjoy that little element of surprise that goes with unwrapping a present.

If we’re celebrating the best Gift ever on Christmas, it only makes sense that the Christ Child should come in a little wrapping of his own.

Many Jewish folks were anticipating a Messiah.  There were varying opinions on what that Messiah would be like, exactly, but a common expectation was for a warrior Messiah who would lead the Jewish people into freedom from the Roman Empire.

Surprise.

Surprise…  Jesus’ earthly father was a blue-collar carpenter, not a King.

Surprise…  Jesus’ mom was a young girl from a nowhere town, not a Princess.

Surprise…  God didn’t come to earth magically transported, but through the painful, messy act of human birth.

Surprise…  The first people to get the good news wasn’t the religious establishment, but the shepherds, outcasts who smelled like the animals they watched.

Surprise…  The angel tells the shepherds that this event brings joy to all people, everywhere – Jews and Gentiles (non-Jews).

God’s gifts are often so surprising, you have to look for them or you might miss them.

I can speak for myself that I rarely experience God in a lighting flash, an angelic chorus, or a booming voice.  When I have most felt God’s presence it has been with someone I didn’t expect, in a place I didn’t want to go to, in a quiet moment.  Those God moments seem to have a little gift wrap around them, and if I’m moving too fast I miss the surprise.

Christmas is a busy season in our society.  We’ve been wrapping, cooking, buying, sending, planning, packing, scheduling, and mailing for the past month.  Tonight’s service is the start of a different kind of time:  quiet.  Stores are closed.  Streets are still.

Don’t miss the chance to unwrap a different kind of gift.  Be still.  In your family, your friends, in creation, see not just how God has come to us in the Christ Child, but how God still comes to us today.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

Surprise.