Sunday, February 7, 2016

Sermon Text: Luke 9:28-36, February 7, 2016

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

The text this morning is from the Gospel according to Luke, the ninth chapter:
Now about eight days after these sayings he took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. And as he was praying, the appearance of his face was altered, and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were talking with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and those who were with him were heavy with sleep, but when they became fully awake they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. And as the men were parting from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. As he was saying these things, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud. And a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” And when the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and told no one in those days anything of what they had seen. 
Thus far the text.

My dear friends in Christ,
     Traditionally, today, the last Sunday before the Lenten season begins in earnest, is the day the Church puts away her Alleluias.  We don’t sing them, we don’t say them, we try not to think them, and so, today, we try to get as many in as we can.  Alleluia means “Praise the Lord.”  It’s not that during the Lenten season we don’t praise the Lord; we certainly do.  But we restrain ourselves from using the word for the Lenten season is one of penitence, one of seeking after the Lord in repentant faith.

     We hide the Alleluias because Alleluia is a blessed word, a joyful word, a word that takes delight in the Lord and His Word and His gifts and His blessed Son.  We hide the Alleluias because the Lenten season is one of suffering, not only as we recognize the suffering that we ourselves go through as sinners in this fallen world, but as we watch the suffering and death of our beloved Savior, Jesus Christ.  In fact, just before our Gospel reading for today, Jesus has told His disciples exactly what He will suffer.  He says He will suffer, be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, He will be killed.

     This is our experience as well.  As Christians, we follow our Christ.  We look to Him as our example of what to do, that we should be holy and righteous, doing good to our neighbor and thereby serving God.  But we also look to Christ as our example of what will come to us.  If the perfect and holy Son of God will suffer all these things at the hands of angry men, what may we expect to experience in the world?

     The life we have in this world isn’t unicorns and rainbows.  Sure, we experience joy and happiness here; that’s a gift of the Lord to us.  But, as Christians, we are called to suffer, to be burdened by the needs of our neighbor, to give up all things for the sake of Christ, even our own lives.  Jesus says whoever would save his life in this world, for their own purposes, will end up losing it.  But whoever loses his life for the sake of Christ will save it, find it, live in it.  What else is Jesus talking about but the end of all things, the day of resurrection?

     If we suffer and die in Christ, we shall indeed be raised.  And make no bones about it, we will all and we do all suffer.  Whether we are to be counted among the blessed martyrs, those who die in witness to Christ, or we suffer the loss of friends, family, possessions, whatever it may be, we shall indeed suffer.  And if it is done in the name, under the banner, of Christ, then we know we shall be raised.

     That’s what the Transfiguration is about for us.  In this very brief moment in Jesus’ life, we see a small picture of who He truly is behind the mask of our flesh.  It is not that the flesh is containing the divinity of Jesus like one of those tins that have the popcorn inside, but that when we see our Jesus in the flesh He took to Himself, we see God as He desires to be seen.  Remember that all through the Scriptures we are warned that those who see the face of God will die.  Yet, there are many, and we will soon be among them, who will see Jesus face to face, but we shall not die, we shall live eternally.

     Jesus puts Himself in our flesh that we might see Him, love Him, embrace Him, hear Him, and live.  But, in this brief moment of Transfiguration, we see Jesus in His divinity, we see His glowing face, we see His white-washed clothes, we hear the voice of God the Father pointing us to His Son.  We are welcomed into the council of God for a moment.

     Transfiguration Sunday is here to remind us that through this upcoming season of Lent, that though we suffer along with our Suffering Servant Lord, there is a greater day coming.  Transfiguration Sunday is here to remind us that the resurrection of all the dead is soon to come, and that we shall be changed like Jesus.  We shall be made, in Him, incorruptible, perfect, clean, righteous, undying, unsinning, and glorious.  We shall be like Him.

     Peter, in all of his glorious speaking without thinking, as he was surrounded by the cloud from on high, expected to die in his sin.  He watched as the cloud enveloped him and felt great fear.  He knew all of the sudden that what he said was idiotic, was wrong.  He knew that, despite his great confession that Jesus is the Messiah, he was now guilty of not seeing Jesus for who He truly is, but for equating Him with the prophets, Moses and Elijah.  And he expected to die.

     And truly, we are the same.  When we come into the presence of God, when His name is invoked in our midst, we should also, in our heart of hearts, expect to die for our sin.  We have offended the great God in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.  We have not loved God with our whole heart, and we have certainly not loved our neighbors as ourselves.  For this, if we are honest with ourselves, we know what we deserve, every time, every day, every moment.

     But, look what happened to Peter.  He did not die, but the very voice of God pointed Peter and the Apostles back to the Son of God.  So, too, are we.  We do not die in God’s presence, for indeed, our mouths are quickly shut.  Our excuses are gone.  Anything we would try to bring to God is rejected, for all we need is the Son of God.  All we need is Jesus and to listen to Him.

     And what does He say to you?  I forgive you all of your sins.  For all your blowing and blustering, for all your evil deeds, for all your thoughts and words and actions, for what you’ve done, for what you have not done, for your lack of love to me and to your neighbor, I forgive you.  I take these things to Myself and will die for them.  I will crucify them, I have crucified them, and I forgive you.

     And what then do we see?  When He speaks to us, what do we see?  Jesus only.  Jesus alone.  We need nothing else.  We want nothing else.  We want Jesus only.  And to that, certainly, we cry out Alleluia, for there is no more joyful thing than what our Lord declares over us.

     But, today is the last day of Alleluias for seven long weeks.  For indeed, though we are always forgiven, and that is always spoken to you when we gather together, Jesus also calls us to follow Him.  And forgiven in Him, declared righteous in Him, we are now called to suffer.

     Our Lord gives us a glimpse of His glory, the glory that we shall see when we close our eyes in this life and are welcomed into heaven, and a glimpse of the glory we receive as we are crowned as princes and princesses of the new world.  Transfiguration Sunday reminds us that the resurrection is coming.  It reminds us that glory is coming.  It reminds us that our Lord overcomes suffering and death on the cross, and He does it for you.  He overcomes all of it for you, for your sake, for your benefit.  He makes all things new for you.

     So, today, sing your Alleluias loud and long.  Shout them if you like.  Enjoy them because this is the last time for a little while.  And it really is a little while.  That also is our suffering.  It is only for a little while.  This life quickly passes away.  We are here but for a short time.  We’re like the grass that withers and the flower that fades; their beauty lasted only a short little while.  But, so, too, does your suffering.  It, in Christ, fades away and gives way to a yet more glorious day.

     Sing your Alleluias loud and long because you know a greater day is coming, a day in which you shall be raised from your grave, a day when you shall begin to live forever.  You shall open your eyes again, and you shall know what it is like to no longer suffer, for the Suffering Servant has borne that suffering for you.  He has come to make all things new, even your trials through this life.  And to that, who can help but to cry Alleluia?  In Jesus’ name, amen.

     Now may the peace of God which passes all human understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord!  Amen.

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