Exodus 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-36

Living in the Adirondacks for several years and on their borders for many years, I have come to appreciate that special group of folks who call themselves the 46ers: the ones who have climbed the 46 significant peaks of the area. The little mountain climbing I have done comes not so much with a sense of accomplishment but of enjoyment because I am with other folks who enjoy God's creation. I like taking in the details of God's creation in plants and birds. Mountain climbing helps me return to an understanding of life that says there is so much more on this earth and planet home upon which we are utterly dependent than what humanity has built. Mountain climbing brings with it new vistas I/we don't often see.

This past week I heard on the radio a reminder: South Africa, Nelson Mandela, The United States, and the world: we all celebrate the twentieth year since Nelson Mandela was released from prison. In a way, Mandela all his life climbed a mountain. He saw a vision of humanity where each person created was created in the same image of the holy no matter the color of the skin. He has lived to see monumental changes in South Africa's society; he planted the seed of conscience in the people of South Africa and the world. He/we have witnessed the dismantling of apartheid.

For Christmas, my niece sent me a CD which I often play as I travel in car. Playing for Change is a recording of songs from around the world. One of the premises on which the recording was based comes from Mark Johnson who writes: As a human race we come together for birth, we come together for death. What brings us together in between is up to us. Mark Johnson suggests that the language of music can be a positive force that brings humanity together around the world. And so, the recordings on this album come from the streets, subways, Native American reservations, African towns and villages, the Himalayan Mountains , and all around the world. What is profound in this music the common bond of hope, the search for justice, and a love for one another that is bound together by the recognition that we each are created equally well round the world. The album gets me singing of hope; my niece has me singing because a younger generation who lives on the other side of the world has a dream also. She has this dream within her even with all the abundance and privilege in which she lives, she has climbed a mountain and knows there is a better world.

Similar to Mandela, Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream for America. He climbed a mountain; he had a dream that all of God's creatures whether they were white, brown, black, no matter what the color of their skin, they would live together not judged by the color of their skin. Martin did not live to witness the many changes America has undergone to remove the sin of racism. We are not finished traveling this journey; we continue to climb the mountain to see more clearly the vision of equality.

Presently, I am reading The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison; it's a little book of hers written in the 1970's: her first novel. Toni Morrison writes of history through her fiction; she writes of the experience of racism and of slavery. Toni Morrison has climbed a mountain. In her writing, as graphic as it is, you know she hopes for a better place. This particular piece is fiction but it is based in certain truths that exist in our society even today. It speaks of subtle and not so subtle pieces of racism. It's a story of a little girl named Claudia; it's written through Claudia's eyes and words as she looks back on her childhood. It's a story placed in Lorain , Ohio – well north of the Mason Dixon line. It's a story of poor black folk: a story of white America . It's a story of self image: a story of yearning. It's a story of depression; I mean depression in the sense of attitude. It's a story of depression that is brought on not because of poverty or not being able to get ahead because of one's color. It's a story not so much about individuals: black, white, brown, yellow, or anyone being at fault but more about the system in which Claudia lived.

Despite the ridicule she might receive from her mother's sharp tongue, as a young, young child Claudia reveled in herself. But as she grew up, she gradually learned that characteristics other than what she ever could possess were the desirable traits. She learned it from billboard advertisements. She learned it from her mother. How could it possibly be any different? She was fed Shirley Temple images; she was given fair skinned dolls; the Mary Jane candy wrappers clearly spoke it. She heard it from her school girl friends. A comment from what seemed the well off once friend sealed it as a childhood argument ended in words: “you think you're so cute!' Claudia then swung at the white Maureen. Running and now out of reach, Maureen safe on the other side of the street shouts back at Claudia, “I am cute! And you ugly! Black and ugly! I am cute!” All the subtle and not so subtle messages added up and were heard loud and clear. That's how Claudia learned to admire and yearn after blue eyes.

Well, perhaps you are wondering what in the world does any of this have to do with scripture. What does this have to do with Transfiguration Sunday – when Christ's appearance changes.

Let's look at Exodus first. Before our particular reading, the Exodus story speaks of the Ten Commandments and the subsequent idolatry of the Hebrew people. It tells of how the tablets on which the commandments were inscribed are broken. So Moses had gone up the mountain in order to get a replacement set of tablets. In our reading for today we hear how Moses descends the mountain – having been to the mountaintop. One would expect then some commentary on the Ten Commandments or the tablets. Our reading, however, does not say much about the tablets. The reading instead describes Moses face.

Similarly, our gospel reading describes how Jesus climbs a mountain (with Peter, John and James). They climb the mountain, as Moses did, to be in communication with God, to pray. Also similar to the Exodus reading Jesus' face changes and his clothes become dazzling.

In Hebrew history, actually seeing God was a death sentence for anyone. Moses has been relieved of that sentence. SO the people could see? So the people would know? He is in direct communication with God. And that's how Moses' visage is changed. Can this not mean that not only had God recognized him but now others can recognize the Holy within Moses?

The reading from Luke clarifies for anyone who might not understand the change in Jesus' appearance for God speaks saying, “This is my Son, my Chosen , Listen to Him!' Indeed the Holy is Jesus.

From the texts we hear, appearance is everything. We see the Holy clearly changes Jesus; the Holy is clearly embodied in Jesus. Jesus is recognizable but at the same time he is changed. We know that as well in how he, his life, speaks to us in a myriad of ways and at different levels. So we can understand what Peter, John and James might have seen. For we, too, at times truly understand who Jesus is at different moments. For the Hebrews the holiness of Moses was so evident – he had brought them so far along the journey – and now even though he the same, he was changed so that they feared for their lives. Moses now puts on a veil when he speaks with the people and he removes the veil whenever he spoke with the Holy One.

Appearance is everything when looking for the Presence of the Holy is concerned. But that appearance is not determined by the shape of one's body or the shape of our eyes. It's not dependent on the color of one's eyes or the hue of one's cheek. Appearance has nothing to do with fashion or worn clothes, or diamond or costume jewelry, or Mercedes or Civic car or tent or grand 3 bathroom house. But rather appearance has everything to do with the light that comes from one's soul. It has everything to do with finding God. Appearance has everything to do with how a person's life can be changed by the love of God. That is for us to understand, to take in and hear for our own selves.

But appearance, the appearance of holiness also speaks for the other as well. It has everything to do with recognizing the Creator's hand that has been at work in the person that is across from where you sit each day. Appearance has everything to do with recognizing the potential that each and every single individual has been graced by the loving touch of God.

It's for us to find that place in the one who stands in line with us, who sits across the room in a court of law, who comes to us in all her consumer driven ways or waits for a needed meal. It is for us to recognize that Holy Presence and to love that other just as we love ourselves.

I would like to share a poem with you written by Maya Angelou. I had the privilege many years ago to see and hear her speak in person. She is a powerful woman who stands tall – that's her appearance. Unlike Claudia in the book The Bluest Eye, Maya Angelou is a woman that has come to learn to love herself despite what her life has brought to her. I think Maya Angelou speaks of a Holy Presence, a love, and this poem speaks of recognizing the shining Holy within despite the many messages that history proclaimed.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I've got oil well

Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that wondrously clear
I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

 

So may we rise knowing the transfigured Jesus, the Holy One of God has changed our lives. So be it and Amen.