1 Kings 19:9-18
2 Peter 1:16-19(20-21)
Mark 9:2-9
Psalm 27 or 27:5-11
Mike was scared. I could see it in the shifting of his eyes and his restless hands. He'd retired early from the army and come home to his young family; double vision and intense headaches are no good for an officer in military intelligence. We talked. We talked about his kids. We talked about places in Europe we'd both visited. And we talked about the uncertainty of what the doctors might find next and about the future of his family if, as seemed likely, the news was bad. And we prayed. There were quiet tears and agonizing sobs. We prayed hard. And Mike was still scared.
The next time I saw Mike he was transfigured. He was absolutely radiant. Sparkling eyes, translucent skin, gentle touch. God only knows how it happened. Mike only knew he was going to die. He blessed his wife, his parents, and his children. And he left a few days later, trailing clouds of glory.
Jesus on the mountaintop had the same knowledge that Mike did. Jesus knew he was going to die. And he was transfigured. It was absolutely dazzling.
Have you ever seen someone glow? Those of us who are with people when they die, may have been blessed to see it. But the light can happen anywhere. Perhaps a new mother – radiant as she holds her new baby. Or a child who suddenly discovers she can whistle. Or maybe you've been so much in love with someone that they really do light up your life.
Radiant faces where the light shines through. God's glory becomes incarnate. It means that something of that person's self has died.
How many times has Jesus told us to deny our selves and follow him? When someone puts aside their own needs, when someone lets go of the focus on themselves, then the light can shine through.
Mike, with God's help, was able to let go of his fear. New mothers and lovers glow because they focus on the beloved instead of themselves. A child forgets herself in a new discovery
It's not the neatly organized, well controlled, perfect parts of our lives where God shows up. It is those gaps or cracks in our lives – the empty, broken, or dead places – where God finds an opening to shine through.
God's light shines through our cracks and empty places just as Elijah found God not in the noise but in the sound of sheer silence. The still small voice speaks in the silence. The light shines through the cracks in our lives.
Since the glory of Christmas Day, we've watched the days grow longer. Since the light of the star guiding the wisemen at Epiphany, we've heard stories of Christ's light shining and greeted those stories with Alleluias and thanksgiving during worship.
On Wednesday we begin our Lenten journey. The days continue to get longer. Christ's light still shines. But we remember that Good Friday and death are waiting right around the corner. We remember that our lives are full of shadows, and that the world is laden with darkness and death: attacks by terrorists, rising unemployment, and plans for war; loneliness, regrets, and bad news from the doctor. In Lent we give up the Alleluias for a time and remember the broken places in our lives.
You know, this Lent I wish I had something better to offer to God than my mistakes and hurts and anxieties. Oh sure, I know the psalm: "The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise." But it's easier to give up chocolate and read a few extra prayers each day, than to let the Light of Christ shine on all the failures and broken places in my life.
Yet is those broken places, the cracks in my life, that can be transfigured by the light. As long as I hide or ignore those cracks, how will the Light get through into my life? As long as I pretend there are no cracks or keep trying to cover them up, how can the Christ in me shine out on the world?
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered Peter, James, and John to tell no one about what they had seen until after the resurrection. I wonder, though, if they didn't come down from that mountain all glowing.
The glory of God that Peter couldn't contain in three tents has overflowed into the world, seeping through the cracks in the broken lives of three frightened fishermen.
And since then wherever people have denied themselves to follow Jesus the light has spread.
Jesus turned toward Jerusalem and his death, and he was transfigured. The Light shines.
The disciples usually didn't get what Jesus was talking about and when it came to the cross and death, all but a few women ran away and hid; but they followed Jesus and the light shining through them set the world on fire. The Light shines in their lives.
Nineteenth-century missionaries set out with their belongings packed in their coffins; they knew they'd come home in it.. The Light shines in their lives.
A disabled and lonely widower volunteers at the local nursing home. The Light shines in his life.
A tiny parish shifts its focus from survival and maintenance to mission and outreach and the congregation begins to grow. The Light shines in their lives.
Today is World Mission Sunday – a time to commit ourselves to going out and bringing Christ's light to the world around us. The Light can shine in our lives too.
It's time to say goodbye to the Alleluias – to come down from the mountain and go out into the word. It's time to begin our own journeys toward the cross – to offer the broken parts of our lives to God's transforming power.
The Cross can transfigure our lives. The Light shines through the cracks in our lives so we walk in the Light and bring that Light to the world.