The light of Christ is to carry us through the long nights of our lives “Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away” (Song of Songs 2:17) in the coming reign of God. For if we cannot hold on to the love of God as found in Jesus when life unravels, our sure and certain hope is neither sure enough nor certain enough to sustain us in the times when we most need to know the power and presence of God.
I know this from sitting at the bedside of those dying in Hospice Care or more painfully, standing by parents in the Emergency Room as their child’s life slips away, and have also been the father with my daughter’s life hanging in the balance. Knowing we are held in God’s presence in the shadows of life is vital in times when dawn seems far away.
“Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so” is deeply true, but if we do not engage with it, we end up feeling that I am okay and you are okay and the way the world is, is probably more or less fine. The news this week has offered ample evidence that the world in which we live is, in many ways, not okay. Many from Houston to Kyiv are experiencing a long night, wondering where God is now.
I need to be honest and say that though Jesus words, “I will be with you always, even to the end of the age” are so very true, every Christian can and will face times when you feel the absence of God. This is not because God has abandoned you, but because so much is weighing you down, that you cannot, in that moment, feel God’s presence in quite the same way. That is why Christian community is so important, as we hold others in prayer and assist them in the ways we can when the changes and chances of life have us in a dark night of the soul.
In this final Sunday before Ash Wednesday, we find Jesus is being prepared for the greatest trial he will face, his suffering and death. As he so often does, Jesus retreats to pray. Now we find him with Peter, James, and John on a high mountain. Jesus’ face changes appearance and his clothes become dazzling white.
We can see what Peter, James and John could not. Jerusalem is where Jesus will suffer, die, and be resurrected. Peter tries to bring it all to a grinding halt by settling in to stay on the Mount of Transfiguration for a good long time. Peter says, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” There was Peter trying to capture the moment and make it last.
Then a cloud overshadowed the mountain, just as it had when Moses met with God on Sinai long before. The voice boomed out from the cloud, reminding us of the voice at Jesus’ baptism. God said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
The next time Jesus was on a mountain was Calvary. Instead of having Moses on one side and Elijah on the other, Jesus is crucified between two thieves. The men who followed Jesus, except for John, would be hiding in fear for their lives. Only the women, who had traveled with him, remain.
We know from the history of how the New Testament came together, that an earlier follower of Jesus named John Mark traveled with Peter in the years after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension. He heard Peter tell the story of Jesus in his own words time after time and after Peter’s martyrdom in Rome, John Mark wrote what we know as the Gospel of Mark. Peter spent his life preaching how when he was with Jesus in the Rabbi’s own lifetime, he did not get it. Peter often misunderstood what was happening. The transfiguration was one of those occasions and it takes us into the deep, dazzling darkness of God.
The cloud overshadowing terrified disciples connects to a strand within the Bible, a thread winding itself through scripture which connects darkness to the mystery of God. Two examples show some of the many times a different understanding of the image of God and darkness:
In Exodus we are told “Then the people stood at a distance, while Moses drew near to the thick darkness where God was.” (Exodus 20:21).
The prophet Isaiah told us a lot about light and darkness, particularly saying that the Messiah would be a light to the nations. But Isaiah also wrote, “I will give you the treasures of darkness and riches hidden in secret places, so that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name.” (Isaiah 45:3).
Psalm 139:11 combines these threads as the Psalmist says to God, “Darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day; darkness and light to you are both alike.”
The fifth-century Syrian monk we know as Pseudo-Dionysius wrote that God sometimes cuts through our lesser light of understanding with what he called “a ray of darkness.” This concept of a ray of darkness means that just when we think we understand who God is and how God acts, God shows us that we cannot contain the Holy Trinity. A new revelation cuts through our complacency, our lesser light, like a ray of darkness.
A ray of darkness is a good expression for what happens in our Gospel reading. If we read this passage in context, we find that the transfiguration falls eight days Simon Peter responded to Jesus’ question “Who do you that I am” with the confession of Jesus as The Messiah. Now, eight days after the light of certainty on that day, as Jesus is transfigured before him, Peter is about to get some sense that he does not yet fully understand what it means for Jesus to be the Christ, the Messiah. Even though he had prophecies including the Suffering Servant passages in Isaiah, Simon Peter would need the ray of darkness that was Good Friday and Holy Saturday and then the clear light of the empty tomb on the third day before he could even begin to comprehend Jesus’ life and ministry.
The images connecting God and darkness reveal that God is calling us to a deeper experience of the mystery that is divinity.
In the 1600s, the Welsh poet Henry Vaughn wrote, “There is in God (some say), a deep but dazzling darkness.” Into the darkness of our doubts, fears and insecurities the light of the love of God shines brightly. I have seen that light in some very dark places. And yet, every time I think I have some purchase on the divine, some bit of reality comes crashing in and I find more to discover.
Lent is a time of preparation for the story of Jesus’ passion, death, and resurrection. During this time, we can give things up, like not eating meat on Fridays, or not drinking Coca Colas or eating chocolate. Lent is also a time for taking on new practices of the faith, such as setting aside time to read the Bible or set times of prayer.
In these ways, we delve more into the mystery of God. For God is more than we can wrap our minds around and that is necessarily so. Yet the Holy Trinity is not a mystery in the sense of a puzzle we cannot solve; the Trinity is a mystery in that we see the truth of it, but there is more than we can fully comprehend.
Using the word mystery, in this case, is closer to describing as mystery the love among humans or even humans and pets. The way you feel when you look into your new baby, the eyes of someone you love, or let’s be real, looking into the eyes of your dog and knowing you are unconditionally loved. We know so much about those we love, and yet new occasions arise which reveal there was more to discover in the relationship with our child or spouse or parents. We can and do know of God from God, by the revelation of scripture, from the way God is revealed in nature, and yet, there is more than we know – a mystery that is deeper than our minds can fathom.
The disciplines of Lent then are means of grace to assist us in more fully apprehending who God is and how God acts, so that we can more readily see how God’s presence and power have been with us. This is almost always clearer in retrospect. As we look back to times to the most difficult times in our lives, we see the ways in which God was with us. Seeing how God has been with you also helps you know more fully that you are a beloved child, loved by the creator of all that has ever been. Too often we see ourselves through the eyes of others.
For we are surrounded by the walking wounded. People who at 40 still remember the name of the bully in sixth grade and at 50, they recall the friend who gossiped and betrayed them. Any of us can fall into replaying tapes in our heads of the harsh and cruel things others have said and see ourselves through their eyes. If you take those messages to heart, you are not seeing yourself as God sees you. God sees you as beloved. And this Lent is the time to find ways to delve more into that mystery, letting a deeper connection to God break into the lesser light with a better understanding of how God is with you.
Having seen God’s presence in looking back over our lives, we are better able to let the light of Christ carry us through the long nights of our lives “Until the day breaks and the shadows flee away” (Song of Songs 2:17) with the sure and certain hope that Jesus is with us always, even to the end of the age.
Amen.