Saturday, June 11, 2011

Thoughts on the Transfiguration


"After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)
Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus."


Before I get into this text, I need to define the audience of this blog. Theologically minded Christians will find in the Transfiguration account an exposition of the divine/ human natures of Jesus in one Person, liturgists will find the hidden glory of Christ in the Eucharist, and social action believers will skip the whole episode to get to the deliverance of the demonized boy at the foot of the mountain, for whom this text is but a prelude.

But there are a few folks out there, either Protestant charismatics or Roman contemplatives (and a handful of evangelical mystics), who long for such a revelation of the glorified Christ either corporately or privately. They desire the Presence that transforms, that humbles the flesh-- a foretaste in this life of the final consummation of spiritual union. I am not offering an apologetic for such subjective experiences, but taking them as a given. Those who believe in revelations of the presence of God are my audience.

We in the experiential camp refer to such an encounter as a "mountain-top experience." The term conveys the ideas of light, love, and renewed comprehension of God--all positive notions. But I think we are mistaken. In reality, I can't think of any literal mountain top experience in the Scriptures that was so positive. The people fled from Sinai. Elijah was almost destroyed at Horeb. The prophets of Baal were wiped out at Carmel. And the greatest mountain top experience in history occurred at Golgotha. The experience of the three disciples at the Transfiguration was anything but sweetness and light. The text says they were "frightened." The ESV uses "terrified." They were in fact reduced to a state of (here is a southernism) total discobobulation, if not outright stupidity. Here are some points to ponder if we are to pursue the manifest presence of God.

First, don't push it. The disciples were not present at the Transfiguration because they had fasted and prayed ("tarried") in preparation. It took them totally off guard. Jesus revealed himself to them in such a manner in his own good time, knowing where the disciples were in their spiritual progress. He warned them to keep it to themselves, because his glory could not be understood outside of the context of the resurrection and the ascension. God is in sovereign control of such occurrences and knows the stages of the development of the human soul, and when they will bear proper fruit.

Second, hush. Human beings have an intense need to jabber when encountered with something over their heads--sorta like an urge to tellthe President that you once ran for president of your 7th grade class (and lost). The disciples felt they had to say something. The fact is that they were prostrate outside an incomprehensible conversation between superiors. The disciples were mere spectators, and there was wisdom in accepting the fact.

Third, bear it. In such moments the human soul is aware of only two things: It is more evil than it ever knew; It is more loved than it ever knew (stolen from Pastor Neil). The work of the burning presence of Christ unveiled is far deeper than knowledge. The soul is totally in his hands, and there is no recourse to conventional mental habits, nor is there a context by which to control the Spirit’s work. Bare trust is its only consolation.

Fourth, be still. Peter couldn’t control his urge to do something: “Let’s make some tents.” The idea is so ludicrous--that beings who for centuries had lived in a perfected state learning the mysteries of God needed a place to stay, is embarrassing. Some of Peter’s response is based on the need to cover and control the glory-- lock it up and let it out at intervals--but I think at a deeper level it arose from the need to respond to God with action, residual Performance Based Acceptance. The only true response to a manifestation of Divinity is a yielded heart. No action is called for on the human side; all the action is God’s initiative. Activity blocks the flow of the Spirit's work.

Lastly, such moments are rare, and not the stuff of everyday Christian life. That is why, after the glory of the Transfiguration, God pointed the disciples to Jesus and said, “Listen to him.” The Jesus to whom the Father referred was the Jesus who walked with them and understood their humanity, with whom they could communicate, whose divinity was present but not overwhelming, accommodating their weakness. That, through the Spirit, is the Christ we encounter everyday. The rest is in his plan for us.


Sunday, June 5, 2011

Vacation


Enjoyed our vacation with family at Hilton Head. One of my favorite things was to rise early and go outside to sit and read with a cup of coffee, interrupted by an occasional squirrel or lizard. I'm definitely a morning person. I admit I have some resentment about giving my employer the best hours of my day. By evening I'm not much good, and reading is a real effort at night.

I began to re-read Calvin's Institutes. His negative reputation among evangelicals is a puzzle to me. His work is full of joy at God's creation, and his description of Christ as Mediator (his favorite term for the Lord) is worth the read.

I also tackled The Dark Night of the Soul (St. John of the Cross), a classic of Roman mystical theology. It struck me as I was reading that St. John was describing universal mystical experience, and that a Catholic, an Orthodox, an "exchanged life" Protestant, a Buddhist, or a Sufi could identify with the painful process of moving from the world of sight and thought into the bliss of the Divine Love. Whether the process is looked upon as an attainment of the soul to a higher plane, or (from a Protestant point of view) the struggle of faith to believe that Christ has accomplished all we need for life and godliness, the experience is the same.

As usual on vacations, I contemplated my age and the future. I have a greater peace about both than I did a year ago. The refuge of old thoughts and habits is like an old leaky hut--not much there in the way of substance any more.

"I love thee, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."