Sermons

The Face of Christ

John Wilkinson                                 Third Presbyterian Church  February 22, 2004                                  Luke 9:28-36

It is called the Transfiguration, and frankly, we are not quite sure what to do with it. It is the Bible at its pyrotechnical best. Jesus and a sub-committee of his disciples, Peter, James and John, determine to go off for a bit for a kind of spiritual retreat. On another day that verse, about going up on a mountain to pray, would be sufficient for a sermon as a reminder to us about tending to our own spiritual nurture in the face of all the other things we are called to do. Not today, however.

The four of them go off to pray, and in the middle of prayer, something supernatural happens. The appearance of Jesus’ face changed. His clothes became a very bright white. The disciples then somehow see Jesus talking to two others, whom they identify as characters from their history, Moses the lawgiver and the prophet Elijah.

And Peter, not sure exactly what is yet going on, suggests the formation of a building committee to build three booths to house the three figures. The story tells us that Peter did not know what he was saying, which means that this was not a very good idea. The notion is that we do not “freeze the moment and commemorate the place,” but rather follow Jesus in discipleship. (See The New Interpreter’s Bible. Volume IX, Luke, Alan Culpepper, pages 204-208)

A cloud then comes and overshadows the entire proceedings, and wonderment turns to fear. They all enter the cloud and a voice booms out, very reminiscent to the voice we heard several weeks ago at Jesus’ baptism. “This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him.” Suddenly, Jesus is again alone, and they agree to keep the whole thing quiet.

We are not quite sure what to do with this. The scholarship takes us in different directions, but mostly centers on the reasoning why Moses and Elijah show up, indicating that in Jesus the law and the prophets are summarized. Biblical scholar Alan Culpepper reminds us that the story has a kind of rhythm to it. Something inexplicable happens and the disciples respond. Perhaps that is the rhythm into which we are invited, a response to who Jesus is.

Luke really doesn’t spend very much time explaining what happens, a New Testament characteristic that often serves to frustrate us. We rational, scientific types want to know what happened – at his birth, at his resurrection, here, there. The Bible seems much more interested in our response.

Three big events happen – the changing of Jesus’ face, the appearance of Moses and Elijah, a voice booming out of a cloud. And yet the pivot point of the story is what the voice says to the three followers, placeholders for the rest of us. “This is my son, the chosen one, listen to him.”

Our entry point this morning is at the first of those three mysterious events. “And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed.”

It is a question filled with provocation, controversy, searching, longing. It is a core question of our faith, but it seems to be a core question beyond our faith these days. Who Jesus is and what he does, for us, for the world, is pressing upon us from all sides.

It is an obvious time to say something about the new Mel Gibson moves, “The Passion of the Christ.” I will say again what I first said a couple of weeks ago when our friend Rabbi Kotok was here. See it before you debate it. But read the book first, the gospel accounts that Gibson seeks to interpret. The news shows this week asked the question “is it accurate?” And the first response would be to say “accurate to what?”

We have a particular responsibility to be familiar with the gospel accounts of the passion before we leap into the fray of whether this is anti-Jewish or not, anti-Semitic, how Gibson’s particular biography and faith background led him to this particular rehearsal of the story, how churches typically thought to be more evangelical that mainline Presbyterians have been marketed to so effectively.

The face of Christ appearing in magazines and on TV, from this movie, anyway, is a very bloody and gory one. The event it portrays surely was the same. The film is rated R, which suggests significant reflection before any young adult, let alone any younger than that, would even view this movie.

Let’s do all those things first, and then let’s have a conversation, with ourselves, with friends whose Christian faith is differently flavored than ours, with friends and strangers for whom Jesus doesn’t mean very much at all, or for whom Jesus has even been a problem.

But the face of Christ is so much more than a Hollywood movie. Consider even other portrayals of Christ on film. “Godspell” or “Jesus Christ Superstar.” “The Last Temptation of Christ.” Remember that controversy. Or seemingly more benign portrayals. “The Greatest Story Ever Told” or “The Robe.” Each asked the question about the face of Christ. But each, in their own way, missed a very elemental biblical understanding – the portrayal of the face of Christ is important, but the response may be even more so.

And yet the question persists, does it not? Who Jesus is and what he does occupies our time and energy. The wild possibilities of The DaVinci Code, the nearly weekly presence of an article in Time and Newsweek – perhaps on a recently discovered writing that sheds more light, a supposed burial box for one called James, the brother of Jesus, the wildly hyped work of the Jesus Seminar and its attendant backlash, controversies in recent years about artistic portrayals of Jesus that were less than flattering and were viewed as attacks on institutional religion.

And it is not exclusively a battle waging “out there,” in the mean old world. I have mentioned from time to time about the work of the Presbyterian Theological Task Force on the Peace, Unity and Purity of the Church, on which I am privileged to serve, and not a little daunted.

Three controversies called us into being, kind of a “perfect storm” of dispute. One is not news to us – human sexuality and ordination standards. The second is more overarching – the authority of the Bible and how we interpret it. The third is this – what it means to call Jesus Lord, for us, in a pluralistic, multi-religious world. The path to salvation and must it go only through this one whom we call chosen or may it go through others.

Certainly, our Presbyterian fussing about Jesus is also about internal politics, liberal and conservative, traditionalist and progressive. That is focuses on Jesus is OK, so long as it also takes into consideration the dynamic that if we were not fighting about Jesus, we would be fighting about something else.

Nonetheless, in the church and in the world, and as much as any recent era, Jesus is a hot commodity, a lightning rod for what our society is and is becoming, an agent provocateur. It is a moment of opportunity, I would suggest, perhaps an important occasion for us to think more deeply and effectively together on the question, and to allow our response to be as salt and light in the church and for the world.

We may not solve the theological conundrums, but we can ask the questions with integrity and pursue them with imagination and care. That’s what we will do on the Thursdays in Lent, by the way. We will look at what the Bible says, what our tradition says, what we might say.

Perhaps one of our specific Lenten disciplines may be just that – reading the Bible with an eye for a deepened encounter with the face of Christ, not simply seeking his identity, but how his identity intersects with yours, and ours together.

A fascinating new book called American Jesus by Stephen Prothero considers the ways that Jesus has become a cultural icon in American life. You will hear more of this book and several like it, in the Lenten weeks to come. Prothero explores several images – all of which ring true in American history and perhaps in our own lives. Jesus as enlightened sage, whose words of wisdom and moral life serve as example to us. Savior and redeemer, one whose death and resurrection offers us salvation.

All of these, and more, seem true to our heritage and true to our experience. Our theological tradition has said many things about Jesus. In essence we have said two things – that Jesus is the second person of the Trinity, the “son” of the historic formula “Father, Son and Holy Spirit,” and that Jesus is fully God and fully human, two natures.

Each of these affirmations are mysteries of the highest order, and the greatest church councils over many centuries have battled, sometimes literally, over their formulation. However we continue to explore the questions of who Jesus is and what he does, we will do so at least with these barometers in the background.

The last century of Christian thought has sought to add something to this, an ethical component emphasizing in ways that historic Christianity never has Jesus’ earthly ministry, his sayings and healings, the very acts of his walking around and living among the people. We need to listen to those voices as well as we seek answers to the question “who do you say that I am.”

We answer that question in many ways, by the way. The Bible does as well. We hold in our hymnal, for example, hymns that proclaim “all hail the power of Jesus’ name, let angels prostrate fall, bring forth the royal diadem and crown him Lord of all” AND “what a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and grief to bear.”

Can this one be both king and friend, savior of the world and intimate confidante? Yes, we have said, and live into the ways that such things happen.

We will not answer these questions today, or any day for that matter. Their pursuit is our lifelong journey. We can begin asking them in deeper and more profound ways.

Lent begins Wednesday – a good time to ask these questions. The world is searching for clues. We are searching for clues. One strong clue is given today. We see his face changed and we hear a voice tell us to listen because he is chosen. And we do because he is.

And we believe also in the mystery that in his face we see the face of others, and in the face of others we see the face of Christ. That is not theological sentiment, but gospel truth, in that the rhythm established today and repeated time and time again, is that the details of the story are played out in our response.

Jesus’ face was shining brightly, we read this morning. And the interpretation of the story will happen in the lives of those – then and 2000 years later – in whose lives that dazzling light will reflect. We will know the face of Christ and we will be the face of Christ, as we listen and as we follow, transfigured into something bright and new and wondrous.

Amen.