Last year, my sister went to see the play Wicked. She loved it so much that, for weeks afterward, it seemed that it was all she could talk about. I know that, if she could have, she would have bottled up the whole experience: the songs, the emotions, the excitement, the stage lighting—everything; just stick it all in a bottle and bring it home to enjoy whenever she wanted.
She couldn’t do that, of course. So she did the next best thing: she bought the CD. And she listens to it as she drives her minivan throughout southern California.
For the past nine months, my family has enjoyed using the Disneyland annual passes we were able to purchase last spring. The Disney “magic” is a wonderful thing to experience, and I’m sure that, if we could, we would bottle it up and bring it home. As it is, we do have some Disney movies and CDs at home, and we take lots of pictures when we go… but it’s not quite the same. A day at Disneyland can’t be bottled up like that.
What happened on the mountaintop with Jesus was truly an amazing experience. I’m not talking Huell Howser amazing; I’m talking really amazing. If you’re looking to me to describe to you what it was like—I can’t. I wasn’t there, and I can’t even begin to describe what it must have been like to witness such an event. I only know it as Mark and the other gospel writers describe it; and they weren’t there, either. And sometimes I even wonder how closely the written accounts are to what really happened. I think it may have been one of those events that truly are so amazing that they are indescribable. Perhaps it is literally true that words cannot express the awesome-ness of what happened on that mountaintop, and that the descriptions we have are the gospel writers’ best attempts. I don’t know.
I do know that, in witnessing this event, Peter, James and John didn’t know what to make of it. Imagine, seeing the glory of God manifested in your master, revealed in your rabbi, as your teacher and friend is transfigured before your very eyes. Peter in particular, is so overwhelmed with the wonder of it all that he tries to contain it. He tries to bottle up the experience … by building three booths, three tent-like structures. He couldn’t buy the CD, he couldn’t take a picture, so that’s what he did: he built booths.
I don’t think he really knew what he was doing. From ancient times, Jews have celebrated the festival of booths—Sukkot—also known as the feast of the tabernacles. Perhaps Peter built the booths with this holiday in mind, trying to make sense of what he had seen by placing it in the context of this celebration.
Perhaps Peter built the booths because he really felt the need to hold on to the moment. It was, for him, a moment of vindication. He had been following Jesus for some time, listening to him speak about the kingdom of God, and he knew that Jesus was the one anointed by God to be the harbinger of that kingdom. Peter didn’t yet have all the details worked out, but this much he did know, that Jesus was, indeed, God’s messiah.
However, Peter had seen that many people did not have even this understanding. He had, in fact, seen Jesus rejected in his own hometown by people he knew. He had seen Jesus wander from place to place, with no place permanent that he could call his home. Peter had met some people who thought that Jesus was the messiah, but he had also witnessed many more people who treated Jesus with scorn, ridicule, and disrespect. Jesus had been accused of blasphemy against God. Some had even suggested that he was an agent of Satan. Oh, if only there was a way to show them once and for all who Jesus really was.
Up there on the mountaintop, Peter finally saw what he had been waiting for: it was the glory of God revealed visibly in Jesus. It was affirmation. It was proof that Jesus wasn’t a blasphemer, that he was, in fact, “beloved” by God. He wasn’t some crazy preacher from the backwoods of Galilee; he was God’s own son.
You can’t really blame Peter for wanting to contain the moment, for wanting to contain God, or for wanting to keep the whole experience bottled up for future use. He knew that, to try and describe this experience, his words would never be adequate. How does one explain such an event in a way that conveys all the awesomeness of what happened, in a way that’s believable? It’s impossible. So: build some booths. Contain the event. Bottle it up, so you can carry it around with you.
But of course, one cannot contain God; one cannot bottle God up like that. God is too big for that. God can’t be put in a box.
Many people try to put God in a box by the way they define God. They get this idea of who God is, and they carry that idea around with them. They become quite possessive of God, the God that they have created in their own image.
They try to make God a part of them, a part of their world; but God is not a part of our world. Does an artist create a work of art, and then say that he is a part of his masterpiece? No. The masterpiece, the work of art, is a part of him. God is not merely a part of our world. Our world, our universe, is a part of God. We, who are created in God’s own image, are a part of God.
Some people try to carry God around with them, as if God were a purse or a backpack or an umbrella. Perhaps Peter wanted to carry God—or at least, his experience of God—around with him, and so he built the booths, those tents that could be carried around. But does a work of art carry the artist around? No. The artist does the carrying. We don’t carry God around; God carries us.
In this sense, God is like a mighty river, an everflowing stream. You can try to dam it up; you can try to contain it; but the river is too big for that. You can try to divert the flow, but eventually, it will return to its own course. The river cannot be contained or controlled.
What you can do is jump in, and let the current carry you. Let it sweep you away. Let God sweep you away.
When I was in college, I remember seeing posters and t-shirts with pictures of cartoon fish all swimming in one direction, except for one fish, which was drawn like the Christian symbol; it was facing the other way. At the bottom were the words, “go against the flow;” the idea being that Christians don’t follow the crowd; they follow Jesus.
The message of that t-shirt was a good one. However I think that if I were to design it today, the Christian fish would be the one going with the flow, and all the other fish would be the ones going against the flow. On my t-shirt, the water would be the mighty river of God, the living water of Jesus, and the one who follows Jesus would be the one who stops fighting against the current, stops trying to direct the current or contain it, and simply surrenders himself to it. The Christian fish would be the one who allows himself to get swept away by the current, the one who allows himself to get swept away by God.
Or perhaps, on my t-shirt, instead of water flowing, there would be wind blowing. The word spirit also means breath, or wind. You can see the word spirit in the word inspiration, and also respiration. Because I am a part of God, it is my desire to let God’s Spirit guide me, direct me, as it blows through the universe.
OK, maybe that’s too much for a t-shirt. Too complicated, perhaps. But I still like the idea.
The season of Lent, which begins this Wednesday (Ash Wednesday) is a time that encourages us to get swept away by God. It is a time to stop fighting for our own way in life, and to surrender ourselves to the current. We are a part of God. It is time to stop separating God from our lives, stop compartmentalizing God, stop trying to carry God around in a box.
Lent is a time to re-engage in those practices—those disciplines—that make us aware of God’s presence. Disciplines like prayer, worship, and bible study. Disciplines like giving; especially giving to those who are less fortunate. You’ll have an opportunity to do just that in a few minutes, when—in addition to our regular offering—we take up a special offering for Week of Compassion. Disciplines like fasting, a practice that many find helpful in drawing them closer to God.
If you want to give up something for Lent, I suggest you give up—or significantly reduce—the amount of meat in your diet, especially red meat. Eating less meat helps lessen world hunger and preserves water supplies. An article in the current issue of DisciplesWorld magazine points out that one acre of land can produce 40,000 pounds of potatoes, or 250 pounds of beef. Obviously, you can feed more people with 40,000 pounds of potatoes than you can with 250 pounds of beef. Similar results come when you compare beef production to corn, wheat, and other plant crops. It also requires 2,500 gallons of water to produce one pound of beef, but only 25 gallons to produce one pound of wheat. Clearly, eating less meat helps reduce one’s negative impact on the planet.
Eating less meat also puts you in solidarity with those whose food choices are limited by poverty. When I choose to not eat meat, I find that this simple act reminds me of the many blessings I do have—that, for me, not eating meat is, in fact, a choice; a choice that many in this world do not have. Restricting my diet in this way makes me more aware of what I eat, and more grateful to God for all that I have.
There are many other ways you can allow the season of Lent to enrich your spiritual life. For us, the season of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday, and specifically, with an Ash Wednesday worship service that we are having. I know that we Disciples aren’t used to an Ash Wednesday worship service—many folks in Disciples congregations have still never been to an Ash Wednesday service—but I hope that you will come to the one we are having this week. It will only be a half hour long, but it will help you return your heart to God. It will help you dwell in the mystery of God’s Spirit.
That is my prayer for you and for me this season: that we will allow ourselves to get carried away by God’s Spirit, that we will surrender ourselves to the Spirit’s power. When I was in 7th grade, my youth pastor, Jim Gasaway, taught me a prayer that has become somewhat well-known. It’s a prayer that is usually sung, and he cautioned me and the rest of the kids in my youth group to only sing this prayer with him if we really meant it. It is a prayer of surrendering ourselves to God’s spirit, and if you know it, and you really mean it, you are welcome to sing along with me:
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me
God of wonder and mystery, Peter, James and John stood with Jesus on the mountain when you revealed yourself, but it was so overwhelming, that they scarcely understood what it was that they saw. 2,000 years later, we still find ourselves confused. We try to make sense of things, but come up short. We try to define you in ways we can understand, in ways that fit into the frameworks with which we are familiar. Doing so is essential for us, and yet we are aware that your true nature is more than we can comprehend.
What a blessing it is, God, that you gave us Jesus, through whom we can know you better. He shows us your love. He guides us as we attempt to follow your way. He is the messiah, your son, and our Lord.
Following his teachings and the model he set for us, we lift up in prayer our neighbors near and far. We know that, too often, we have treated other people and even the earth itself as “things” to be used and exploited, rather than as your beloved creatures and creation to be treasured. Our attitude comes out in so many ugly ways— greed, thoughtless consumption, blindness to others’ pain, pollution, war. We pray for a deep change in heart. Help us to really know that you love us, and help us to really love others. We’re asking for miracles, God—long lasting miracle growth in our desire to love, our desire to help, and our ability to see beyond our own selves—because we want to follow Jesus. Through our prayers, through the work we do in our community, and through the gifts we give to Week of Compassion, may we learn to love as you love. May we learn to do your will.
Bless this church, God, through which we and many others experience your love and care. May we continue to be a source of hope and affirmation for our community and our world. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment