Past Sermon

Sermon Title: "Seeing Jesus "
Date: February 18, 2007
Minister: Rev. Charles E. Ensley, Jr.

Lesson:  Luke 9:28-36

I have a fantasy.  Now, having said that, I know that somebody out there is thinking, “Oh-oh; I don’t know that I want to hear about any of Charlie’s fantasies.”  Somebody else is thinking, “He’s beginning to lose it.”  But some of you folks have known me for twenty years, so I think you can be assured I haven’t lost it . . . at least yet.  I also trust you enough to share with you my fantasy, knowing you will accept it for the meaningfulness with which I experience it.

It usually happens on a quiet Saturday at church, when I am in my office alone, working on my sermon.  I’m seated at my computer, with my back to the door.  In my fantasy, I hear a voice from the doorway call, “Charles.”  (I think God would call me by my given name, not Charlie.)  In my fantasy, I swivel around in my chair and envision seeing Jesus standing in the doorway.  I’m not sure whether Jesus is coming to call me to my heavenly home, or to reveal himself as one of the persons I either have or have not helped during my ministry.

I don’t expect Jesus to look like the popular depictions we have of a golden-haired Savior.  And for several decades I have been haunted by wondering whether one of those persons who have come to me for assistance was really Jesus.  Did I help, or did I deny?

I believe today’s mysterious and phenomenal event we call the Transfiguration of Jesus is perfect proof that Jesus’ visage can change.  He takes three select disciples up on the mountain with him to pray.  “And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.”  As a sign of intimacy with God, the face of Jesus becomes radiant—Matthew says it “shone like the sun.”  Jesus shines just like Moses coming down off Mount Sinai, with a face so bright that the people are afraid to come near him.

Once you commit yourself to Christ and his way, your appearance is going to change.  It was true for Moses when he submitted to God’s will for him.  It was true for Jesus.  And it can be true for you.  As a Christian, you look, sound, and act like a different person.

You may have heard me pray from time-to-time that others might see Christ reflected in our faces.  I’m not trying to turn you into a demigod.  Rather, I am suggesting that our commitment to Christ should show forth in our thoughts and words and actions.  You offer those you don’t necessarily agree with a smile.  You speak the truth to your neighbors.  You live in love, as Christ loved you.  You act in ways that are kind and tenderhearted, forgiving others as Christ has forgiven you.  You begin to live a transfigured life, a life that is transformed by true intimacy with God. 

Is that really possible, you ask?  You bet it is.  I’m not going to do it, but I could name names of persons who are sitting here this morning for whom this has happened.  I’ve been witness to the transfiguration and transformation of their lives.

The next event upon the mountaintop after images of the prophets Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus was Peter asking if he should build little booths, or shrines, to commemorate the event.  But as you know with any glorious event in your life, it is not possible to stop time or live on in the radiance of that moment.  Discipleship involves following, going on.  Faithfulness is not achieved by freezing a moment but by following on in confidence that God is leading and that what lies ahead is even greater than what we have already experienced.  The transfiguration was not the greatest event in Jesus’ life.  The crucifixion was still to come, yet even the enormity of that was eclipsed by the Resurrection.

As Peter was inquiring of Jesus as to whether he should built these booths to commemorate the event, “a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.”

I can relate to that, as can perhaps any of you who have driven in snow.  I can still vividly remember an event that took place nearly thirty years ago.  I had driven south from my first church to an evening meeting of the Church and Ministry Committee in Binghamton, New York.  After the meeting, about ten miles north on Interstate 81, I entered a white-out.  There I was, hurtling along at 55—the speed limit during Jimmy Carter’s administration—and I could see no further than my windshield, not even the hood ornament on the car!  I was in an absolute panic!  I had no sense of where the highway was.  And then, just as suddenly as I had entered it, I drove out of it.  So when I read the disciples “were terrified as they entered the cloud,” I thought, “Been there; done that.”

The event that Peter should really want to commemorate was what happened next.  It wasn’t the appearance of dead prophets; it was the voice coming from the cloud:  “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  For the second time in Jesus’ life, at his baptism and now here, he is singled out by God through a voice from heaven declaring him to be God’s Beloved Son.  This is what they ought to remember.  They had seen Jesus’ appearance change on the same occasion that God affirmed that Jesus is his unique Son and his chosen servant, the one through whom God is working out his plan of salvation.

Too often today, we downplay the uniqueness of Jesus, seeing him as just one of many wise and compassionate spiritual leaders who have had a positive impact upon the world.  Yet, if we look at the transfiguration, examine it, breathe it in deeply, we can truly see Jesus is an exalted Lord, Chosen One of God, a messianic King with power to change the course of history.  “King of kings and Lord of lords” we’ll sing on Easter with Handel’s Messiah.  This is too grand a world view and historical perspective of Jesus to simply see him as wise spiritual leader of old.

When the voice of God stops speaking, Jesus is suddenly left alone with his disciples.  Luke tells us that “they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.”  No surprise there.  The disciples had been stunned by this experience, hit hard by an unfiltered blast of the power of their divine Master.  It took them some time to recover from the shock.  Just as I imagine it will for me if I ever see Jesus standing in my office door, calling my name.

However, for us, the end of this story is different.  Unlike the disciples, who had yet to fully understand who Jesus was, we’ve had time to get used to the fact that Jesus is Lord and Savior.  We know that in the coming season of Lent we can strive to understand yet a bit more about the significance of his suffering, death and resurrection.  We already know that Jesus Christ continues to impact human lives and change the course of human history. 

On the mountain, Jesus was transfigured.  In a stunning moment of realization, we see who he is.  Yet, in a curious way, his disciples were transfigured as well.  They began to see who they, as his followers, were to be.  The glory we see in Jesus is the glory that we are to reflect.  We come down from the mountain, having heard the voice, having seen the glory, changed, determined, amid the great cacophony of life, to listen to Jesus.  And that listening transforms us too.

We see not only who Jesus is—God’s very Son—but also who we are, his disciples, who are to listen to him, and let others see him reflected in our lives.