February
22, 2004 - Seventh
Sunday after Epiphany
Exodus 34:29-35
NRSV
KJV
CEV
Luke
9:28-36
NRSV
KJV
CEV
"The Un-Veiling"
28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray.
29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him.
31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.
33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah"-- not knowing what he said.
34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.
35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"
36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
Driving from my hometown of Cincinnati to Evanston this week, I could not help but notice a series of billboards. The row of words on the top listed “Nose, Face, Body,” followed by “Find your Natural Glow,” and the plastic surgeon’s name, locations, and telephone number.
After reading this morning’s Scripture lessons, it is evident that Moses and Jesus receive a non-plastic and utterly un-natural glow while in the presence of God.
In the first reading, from Exodus, Moses is reported to have a ‘glowing’ personality. In fact, Aaron and the Israelites are afraid of him because his face is shining after speaking with God. To solve the problem, Moses covers his face with a veil when he is among the Israelites, but removes it when he speaks with God.
In the second reading, from the Gospel of Luke, Jesus journeys up an unnamed mountain to pray with his disciples. As he prays, the appearance of his face changes and his clothes become dazzling white. Jesus is joined by Moses and Elijah to discuss the end of his ministry, which is quickly approaching in Jerusalem. The disciples with him, Peter, John, and James awake from their sleepiness and Peter offers to build three dwellings. During his speech, a cloud covers the group and God’s voice proclaims, “This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to Him!”
In both lessons, God’s presence to Moses and Jesus is signaled by “face lifts.” It is in the changing of the ordinary to the extraordinary that God’s presence is known.
Moses prepares himself for his meeting with God by removing the veil he uses to cover his glowing face from his frightened community. For me, preparing myself as a clown has been an act of removing my veil to speak with God. I started clowning thirteen years ago at a United Methodist Summer Camp. My dad had gotten involved with the camp a year before as a counselor and invited me to go along when I was in the right age group. As you might imagine, Clown Camp taught make-up application, costuming, and how to act silly. However, these elements were on the surface of the camp’s purpose. As middle school youth, we were invited to remove our veils, don our costumes and make-up and converse with God in worship. In the putting on of our makeup, we transformed from our ordinary selves to something extraordinary. We glowed from without, wearing the white grease paint.
However, God’s glow also came from within us.
During my many years as a camper and counselor, I watched as several youth transformed before my eyes. One summer, Luke came, carrying multiple bottles of medications for depression, social anxiety, stomachaches, headaches, and breathing ailments. His mother shared some of his story with us. This kid had endured the worst of bullying at school and considered himself a social outcast. Luke was so shy his cabin mates left camp on Friday having never heard him speak.
As the week progressed, one of the staff members worked with Luke to develop a talent show act. The camp’s talent show has always been one of the highlights of the week. Held on the last night of camp, each camper is encouraged to share an act, either as individuals or in a group. Despite his insistence that he could not and would not do it, Luke completed his talent show act to a standing ovation. His face glowed in the presence of God.
Luke returned to camp the next year and the next and was encouraged in his ‘glow.’ He became very good friends with my younger brother and together they taught several Clown Camp courses on Juggling. Remember, this is the kid who didn’t talk his entire first week of camp! And now, he’s teaching campers how to juggle.
Luke’s glow was also visible at home. His mom reported improvements at home and in school and when Luke came for his seventh year of camp he did not bring any medication.
I wish we, as a camp, could take the credit for Luke’s transformation, but we cannot. It was God’s presence on that Holy ground that gave Luke his glow. Luke encountered the presence of God and took off his veil.
It is in the changing of the ordinary to the extraordinary that God’s presence is known.
Clowning continues to be an area where I witness un-veilings, both for myself and for many of the people I have worked with over the years. Our camp attracted a variety of kids from a variety of backgrounds. Many came from abusive households or negative situations at school. Camp became a safe and Holy place where the kids could be themselves, without the fear of punishment or laughter. In addition, campers could learn unique skills. Staff taught classes on juggling, unicycling, magic, ventriloquism (the art of speaking without moving one’s lips), improvisation, balloonology, puppetry and Clown skits. On this holy ground, this mountaintop, so to speak, campers came into contact with the presence of God. For some of the campers, hearing words of encouragement was completely foreign. The ordinary became the extraordinary in God’s presence.
Audrey came to camp on a scholarship from her church. As a seventh grader, she was both six inches taller than me and many pounds heavier. At first, Audrey rebelled against the planned activities. She would be ten or fifteen minutes late to the appointed place. And, despite our attempts to encourage her, Audrey ended up being late one too many times and was told to do a community service project for the camp. She chose to sweep out the activity barn, which held many of the camp’s activities. Since I was her counselor, I was asked to supervise. Do you know, she had never been taught how to use a broom? She told me that she had only seen brooms at school.
Audrey, however, bloomed under the structure the camp provided. At the end of the week she was even early for something and because she was early she volunteered to pick up trash around the camp’s trails. For Audrey, the ordinary of cleaning up and arriving on time became the extraordinary in God’s presence.
When I think of the ordinary, I think of the mundane, everyday things. Waking up. Eating breakfast. The drive up here on Routes 41 and 94. Calling my parents every Sunday night, paying bills, making dinner, attending class. I forget that what started as an ordinary day for Moses, resulted in his speaking to God and having to cover his face so as not to scare the Israelites. I forget that Jesus and three of his disciples hiked up a mountain, on an ordinary day, to pray, and Jesus was transfigured. The ordinary becomes the extraordinary in the presence of God.
But, where is the presence of God? Can God only be found at seminaries, churches, or church camps? Nietzsche said, ‘God is dead.’ Well, I highly disagree. In fact, I am dedicating my career to a living God. If God were dead, we would not have the things God has given us. Love, beauty, parents who want their child to be raised in and by the church such as Jenny and Charlie Thombs who committed Ethan in baptism this morning. We would also lack the more profound signs of God’s presence – the glow we see in each other’s faces after an encounter with God.
When do you take off your veil and enter into the extraordinary of God’s presence? Is it when you volunteer at St. Vincent’s serving dinner? Is it when you teach Sunday school? When you share your gift of music with others? When do you take off your veil to reveal the glow underneath?
Or, maybe your face has lost some of the glow it had while on the mountaintop. Many of us have attended a spiritual retreat weekend. The summer before I started seminary I attended a silent retreat with a group of summer interns. The time was incredibly empowering for me and I felt the presence of God in each breath. However, the closeness I had discovered with God did not last long once I reengaged myself in the ‘real’ world. The glow dulled when I came off the mountaintop.
Our lessons this morning confirm that the moment ended for Moses and Jesus too. Moses’ face returned to normal and the cloud dispersed from Jesus’ mountaintop. Even Peter hopes for an opportunity to experience the transfiguration of Jesus permanently. Peter tells Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah…” Peter wanted to stay on the mountaintop and prolong the experience. But, it is uncontainable. It is a gift given to each one of us in the ordinary. In prayer, in worship, at work, while taking a walk, in driving, …. And I will let you fill in the rest of the list.
It is in the changing of the ordinary to the extraordinary that God’s presence is known and we un-veil our non-plastic and utterly un-natural glowing faces. Welcome to the ordinary