Sermon, Last Sunday of Epiphany

Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus, and spoke of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem (Luke 9:31)

Here we go again. One last Sunday of alleluias. One last Sunday of flowers. One last Sunday to respond to "The Lord be with you" with "and also with you." And as always, on this last Sunday before Ash Wednesday and Lent, the Transfiguration. One last Sunday to see Jesus for who he fully was; the Word who was with God at the beginning of the universe, and who is God now and always. Would that we could always shout, "Alleluia!" Would that our liturgy could always be an expression of our joy and happiness with God and our communion, our oneness with Jesus Christ. Would that we could stay with the transfigured Jesus on the holy mountain and bask in the warmth of the Light of the world.

But not even Jesus can stay on that mountain. For as Moses and Elijah said to him, Jesus has a departure to accomplish in Jerusalem. In all three Gospels where the Transfiguration is reported, it comes after Jesus has first told his disciples that when he gets to Jerusalem, he will be killed. But no gospeller makes the connection between transfiguration and crucifixion as explicitly as does Luke. For only Luke has Moses and Elijah speaking to Jesus of his "departure, which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem." Jesus was about to die.

Just a few verses after this story, at the end of chapter 9, Luke writes that Jesus "set his face toward Jerusalem." And so the rest of Luke's Gospel is an account of Jesus's journey to Jerusalem and the cross, his "departure." That is why the Church in her ancient wisdom gives us this Gospel reading just before we begin our own Lenten journey with Jesus toward Jerusalem, toward the cross, toward his departure. It is a long journey. We need to hear that he who was crucified was also the Word, who was with God at the beginning of the universe, who was the power behind the mind-boggling big bang with which the universe began. But we also need to hear that this almighty Word also walked the same road that each of us must walk, the road to our departure.

I suspect that we need to hear that even more today, as we mourn and wonder at the devastating shooting at The University of Alabama in Huntsville. We saw Evil do its worst on Friday: three people dead, and many more in grief and anger and mystification. Why? We ask that question of God in sadness, perhaps even anger. If the Transfiguration teaches us anything, it is the awesome power springing forth from the light of Jesus Christ. So where was God at about 3:30, Friday afternoon in the Shelby Center at UAH? God was getting shot. As Jesus the Son of God was nailed to a cross and pierced in his side, so Jesus was with those who were pierced on Friday. At the moment of their departure, Jesus the Crucified One shared that experience with them, for it is an experience with which He is already familiar.

God does not overwhelm evil with an almighty show of force. Nor does God pull the puppet strings of the people he made, and to whom he gave the freedom to choose good or evil. Our God is so powerful that He can take the very worst that human beings do to each other, and pass through it into the never failing light of Resurrection. And as Jesus Christ shared the experience of death, so do those who die share the experience of Jesus's risen life. We get a taste of that risen life when we eat the bread and drink the wine, which Jesus promises is his very self, his very being.

For now, we here are still on the journey toward Jerusalem, the journey toward our departure. Many in this area now walk that road with a heavy heart. Jesus walks that road with us. Whatever else you may hear from this inadequate attempt to communicate the Good News of Jesus Christ, hear this. Jesus walks with you, and wants nothing more than for you to open your heavy heart to Him. If you open your heart with tears, Jesus will cry with you. If you open your heart, and find it full of anger, let it go and fling it at Jesus. He has taken far worse from us, and he will take your anger. Jesus walked with Peter and James and John. In today's story, we have their testimony about this man who knowingly walked to his death, because He knew that there are worse things than death.

Death comes for all of us, sooner or later. That is unavoidable. What is avoidable is loneliness, and all the more tragic when we suffer alone. To die is not the worst thing in this world. To be alone is. So let us walk together, hand in hand, sharing our hearts. Let us walk together, as we move, step by step, toward our departure. Let us walk together, and together, we will know a power far greater than the sum of our combined strength. And that power, that love, is Jesus Christ himself, as close to you as the bread and wine on your lips, and as close to you as the hands of your brother and your sister beside you.