PAST SERMON 2010 #7
by Reverend Judith Alltree, delivered on Sunday February 14, 2010,
at the Church of the Holy Spirit.
Those Incredible, Transcendent Moments
“Peter wanted to fix that transfiguring, mountaintop moment in concrete, seal it in epoxy for all time. But we can't. Glimpses like that come, and they go. When such a glimpse is given you, on a mountaintop in Judea or [elsewhere], cherish it, but don't even try to capture it for it is a gift, a glimpse, a fleeting, blessed, gift of revelation.” William Willimon
The buildup to the Vancouver Olympic Games is now over, as those of us who watched the Opening Ceremonies Friday night witnessed. As I’m from Vancouver, I have a particular fondness for these games, so you will have to forgive my enthusiasm if it gets out of hand!
I know Friday in particular was filled with transcendent moments for many people: the torch bearers on the final leg of the journey across the pre dawn dark of Lion’s Gate Bridge and through Stanley Park; the Canadian athletes marching into BC Place Stadium to the thunderous applause of the “home town crowd”; the singing of our national anthem; parents, friends and strangers all sharing these amazing moments: faces literally shining with the joy of just being there. For the athletes and coaches, years of work led each one to this night. The stadium was filled with thousands and thousands of tiny camera lights capturing memories.
However, the next morning we all wake up and the games begin: it’s a striving for medals and recognition for our country — and everyone else’s who is at the games. Those incredible moments last night, the ones that filled those in the stadium and those watching with unbounded joy, are not necessarily gone but they have been pushed aside, almost, in the need to focus on the events at hand: the races, the conditions, the competitors. The joyous moments come to us, briefly, at the top of the mountain; then we need to return to the valley.
Ah, the valley: that’s where we find out what we are made of, and that’s not always easy to acknowledge. We want to take those mountaintop experiences, the times when we felt the whole world was ours, and wrap them up, seal them in a package that we can take out whenever we need an emotional boost and re-experience that joy. But we can’t: trying to hold onto those experiences is like trying to hold onto mist.
A photograph and our own memories of the event will remind us of the moment, of what we felt, what we saw, or even who we were when it happened. But we do not live only in those mountaintop moments. If we are wise, we use them as springboards for our lives, living not in the past, but looking into our present and beyond, into the future. Think about seeing your spouse for the first time on your wedding day: your bride walking up the aisle in that mystery dress, your groom waiting nervously at the front, and then, the look between you: and your faces glowed. The wedding ceremony, and the day itself were only the overture to the marriage. Even through the ups and downs of married life, the mere thought of that day, or a glimpse of that wedding photo will remind us that there was something wonderful and profound that began that day, something that continues to this moment, even through the struggles.
The day you held your newborn child for the first time, the knowledge that you and your love had created another human being was so overwhelming there were no words to describe it — it was a moment beyond joy; it was something truly holy.
Then you take your newborn home and there are diapers, and teething, and sleepless nights, and frustrations, but then, you remember that day when you watched as your child took it’s first breath, and it took your breath away.
The next thing you know your child grows up, leaves home and it’s another wedding, and another birth date, and another life is begun, other lives changed. Because even in the valley, life can be good; even in the valley things grow well and are nourished and cared for. And those mountaintop experiences that we wish to preserve are the very experiences that challenge and change us and enable us to grow. They are the stepping-stones of our lives. We are given these marvelous glimpses, but we should cherish them, not preserve them or try only to live within them. These glimpses are gifts, revelations, to support us, comfort us, and strengthen us when times are tough.
Jesus takes three of his disciples, Peter, James and John, up a mountainside somewhere in the Galilee. He wants to pray, he tells them. They are tired, but they follow him anyway. When they get to the top, Jesus’ face becomes transfigured, shining, glowing, and his clothes become “dazzling white”. Then, to make things more interesting, Jesus is joined by two other men, whom we are told are Moses and Elijah. Peter’s first response is to save this moment, this incredible, awesome, terrifying yet exultant moment, to stay at the top of the mountain where there was only the present, no future, no past. He was babbling, nervous, scared, all of those things; he was overwhelmed.
Then a cloud descends on them — they were, after all, at the top of a mountain — but there’s a voice in this cloud telling them Jesus is “My Son, My Chosen; listen to him!” And then a great, awesome silence, as the cloud disappears. Jesus is back to his normal self and Moses and Elijah have gone. Instead of rushing down the mountain to share their experience, the three disciples keep it to themselves for a time; for who would have believed them if they told anyone?
So they returned to the valley, both physically and metaphorically. Although the voice in the cloud had affirmed Peter’s declaration that Jesus was indeed the Messiah, the Chosen One, soon after this event Peter himself would deny Jesus, and within hours of that denial, Jesus himself would be killed.
Yet many years later, Peter would write to new Christians: “We did not follow cleverly invented stories when we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty… We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. “ (2Pet. 1:16,18) In spite of all that had happened in the time following Jesus’ death and resurrection, it was this moment at the top of the mountain that for Peter remained one of the most defining moments of his ministry and his life.
These next 16 days in Vancouver and Whistler are going to bring high highs and low lows to a lot of different people for different reasons. The Georgian team has already experienced the lowest of the lows as they find themselves in that dark valley after the sudden death of their teammate.
For the rest of the athletes, their coaches, their families, there will be a mixture of experiences, some good, others less so. But they will always have those incredible, transcendent moments, just before the games began, to remember, to share and to build on for the rest of their lives.
AMEN.