Exodus 34, Luke 9

Transfiguration

There are many ways to describe the differences between churches. There are denominations, like Presbyterian and Lutheran. There are evangelical churches. Some churches are large or small, multicultural or ethnic. But one way that some people like to describe churches is “high” and “low” churches. Now since our bible passages this morning take place on mountains, I should clarify that these terms have nothing to do with altitude, or elevation above sea level. If that were the case, my hometown of Ewing, NJ is 125 feet above sea level, while Sacramento is only 30 feet above sea level, so I guess Parkview would be considered “lower church”.

But no, this distinction refers to the ritual aspects of our shared life together. Churches which are considered “high church” tend to have a strong emphasis on ritual, sacraments, and embodied faith. Standing and kneeling, making the sign of the cross, partaking in the sacrament of communion where we are joined together in the body of Christ, these are all aspects of a “high church” worship. What we do, what we experience, forms how we believe.

And when it comes to the church calendar, Transfiguration is about as high church as it gets.

On this day, we lean into the mystery of faith that transfigures and transforms us, that the light of Christ is shining within us. Sometimes, we experience God’s presence with immediacy and clarity. For me, this is something that I often experience at the communion table, when I hear the promises of God’s love and remember that Jesus gave himself up as a sacrifice for the whole world.

But it is not just words that tells me this. It is the bread and wine which are extended to my needy hands. It is the mystery of Christ’s very presence in the meal. It is the expectation as I walk forward to the table. Or kneel at the altar. Or open my hands to receive. A full body experience.

What I love about this is it does not have to make sense all at once. Like the disciples, I do not have to know why the light is shining, I only have to look at it long enough to decide whether I will be afraid. And the voice of God tells us there is nothing to fear.

Now, most of our lives are not made up of moments like this. We might call these moments of transcendence or closeness with God “mountaintop experiences” because we seem to be taken up out of ourselves, even momentarily.

In American Christianity, there is a strong emphasis on experience. Some Christians share testimonies of the moment in their life when they first knew they were saved. When they first experienced the love of God. These moments of transformation have become such a strong foundation for faith in so many people’s lives that we can find ourselves feeling disappointed when we don’t experience it ourselves. We wonder if God really cares about us, or we chase after that feeling of connection we once knew. We worry about our loved ones who gave up on the possibility of encountering God, or we fear that all of our study or prayer or service still hasn’t made it all come together in a neatly packaged faith that we can claim for ourselves.

But most of the moments in our lives are much more ordinary. We can allow these moments to pass unnoticed. Sometimes later, we see God working in our lives as if in the background. As we reflect on our lives, God’s presence is often revealed in the rearview mirror.

I grew up going to church every Sunday, singing hymns and sharing in communion, hearing sermons and getting to know my community. I cannot point to a singular moment when I first experienced God. There were little moments at first, maybe hills if not mountaintops. There was the time a homeless man told me about God’s love in Washington, DC. He had so much less than me, but he knew so much more. There was the youth leader who prayed for me at camp. There was the word from scripture that told me I could be forgiven for my failings. As a perfectionist, this was very, very good news.

What I’m trying to say is that if you haven’t had a mountaintop moment, it doesn’t mean that God isn’t at work in your life. God is everywhere. Life isn’t full of high moments. The terrain is always changing. But the scriptures tell us that God is with us on the mountaintop, and Jesus stands with us on the level place, and the Holy Spirit guides us even through the deepest valleys. God is in all of the moments of our lives.

When Moses was glowing, the people covered his face. They didn’t want to know what he knew. They were afraid to be any closer to God, because they didn’t know how it would change them. So they put a veil between themselves and Moses. They put a veil over the possibility of experiencing something new and strange and a little scary.

Sometimes I want to put a veil up, to resist the idea that God would change my life. I’d prefer to be comfortable, to stick to what I know. Maybe some of you know the feeling. We like what we know. We like who we know. We like the way things have been done. But God’s transformation is not be a cause for fear, but a cause for hope.

Because God is calling out to each of us today, claiming us as beloved through Jesus. We are all invited to be transformed by grace, to glow with the light of Christ. And Jesus tells us this: You are the light of the world. If you lit a candle and hid it under a bowl, it would go out. You would never see the light. But instead, you light a candle in a place where the light will shine. So let your light shine before all the world, let it shine in all that you do, how you live and how you love, as a glory to our Heavenly Parent who has made and formed and called you.

Our lives are a testimony to the that love we have received in Christ. Come near to God and shine. Amen.