Check 1 – 2 – 3 . . . testing . . . 1- 2- 3. Is this thing on? Don’t worry, we aren’t having sound issues this morning, but chances are you’ve heard this more than once as someone steps up to the microphone. Sometimes it’s even accompanied by the tapping of the mic, which makes every sound person I know cringe because it can cause damage to the microphone head (tip: don’t do that). Mic checks are an important part of presentations. Without good sound, a message can get lost. If a speaker is unsure, he or she will often start with something like this, or other inconsequential phrase, to test the waters and make sure people are listening before continuing with the main parts of the message.
The verses from our Psalm today are God stepping up to the microphone. While many of the other psalms are written from the perspective of the worshipping people, offering praise, lament, or thanksgiving, this one is different. Here we find the words of God alone, with the people of God listening in silence[i]. It is a captivating thing, to hear God speak. No mic check is needed for this, because this is God, the almighty, the one who has created the entire earth out of nothing, and who rules heaven and earth. We might imagine that God taking a place behind the figurative microphone would have ushered in a moment of stillness in the crowd, a silence brimming with eager anticipation of what was to come. Awe and wonder enveloping those listening ears.
The overarching message of the Psalm is the mightiness and the bigness of God. And God has something to say. Can you imagine it? How many times must the people of God have wondered about God’s ways, or if God was even present with them? How many times do we have those same questions? It seems we are far more accustomed to God working through other people, or in the words of the pages of our Bibles, or at least in subtle, quieter ways. But here, God is on display in full force. God speaks to God’s people, loud and clear. This is not business as usual. Something big is on the horizon.
In the same way, our gospel text marks an extraordinary revelation from the divine with the story of the transfiguration of Christ, when his very appearance changed beyond that which anything in this world could possibly create. It is meant to be overwhelming and impressive, larger-than-life. The scene gets even bigger with the appearance of Moses and Elijah, two superstars of the Hebrew people. Their presence is a marker that this is a big deal, and would have been in line with the expectations for people who had paid any attention to the promises made in the Hebrew Scriptures. If you imagine this mountaintop moment as a Super Bowl halftime show, fitting in many ways as it sits almost at the exact middle of the story according to the gospel of Mark, it would have been like N’Sync and Janet Jackson or Britney Spears joining Justin Timberlake on stage last Sunday night (I’ll let you decide who is who in that scenario). They weren’t the featured act, of course, but the crowd would have gone wild. And if they hadn’t been there, the entire scene might have gotten overshadowed by people wondering or even complaining about their absence.
As it is, though, the scene in Mark is spectacular, so much so that the disciples are terrified and overwhelmed. Peter stammers, trying to figure out what to do, offering to build three dwellings for them. He’s scrambling, unsure of what to make of all of this, and hinting that the pattern of the disciples’ misunderstanding of Jesus will continue. As if it wasn’t difficult enough to understand this man who they had been following around the hillsides, now Jesus is shining and there are two of the most legendary leaders in faith next to him. It should have been overwhelming to the disciples, and to us. What is happening matters.
Again, God takes to the microphone. Although it’s not written explicitly this way, I like to imagine a booming voice from the clouds. “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” These words echo those from the very beginning of the gospel spoken at Jesus’ baptism. But while in that story they are directed to Jesus, and we might wonder if anyone else even heard them, in this mountaintop setting, it is clear they are meant to be a divine proclamation, making sure that the disciples and anyone else within earshot gets the message – Jesus is the real deal. He is God’s Son. They better pay attention.
Brian Erickson notes that in both of these texts:
God is out in the open, speaking boldly, shining even on mortals (even church folk!).
The veil is torn, the gloves come off[ii].
The story of the Transfiguration in Mark and God’s speech in Psalm 50 are powerful words of warning to God’s people. They are meant to strike a sense of fear and respect. In the case of the Psalm, they are followed with reminders that the people of God need to get their act together, and that God has paid attention to both the good and the bad. In a similar way, the text in Mark follows Jesus predicting his death and resurrection, going so far as to identify Peter as Satan for setting his mind on human things not divine things. Our texts are bold words that command attention and response. Erickson continues, reminding us that:
God does not gather us together just for a divine fireworks display, God always has something to say, usually something to ask[iii].
In both texts, the request seems fairly straightforward: listen. For the disciples, this means paying attention to the teachings of Jesus and presumably following where he leads them. This seems at once both easy and impossible, particularly after God speaks with the clear affirmation that this is God’s Son. It is a tall order to be sure. Writer Madeleine L’Engle describes the revelation to the disciples on the mountaintop, and us today, in this way:
Suddenly they saw him the way he was,
The way he really was all the time,
Although they had never seen it before,
The glory which blinds the everyday eye
And so becomes invisible.
This is how he was, radiant, brilliant,
Carrying joy like a flaming sun in his hands.
This is the way he was – is – from the beginning,
And we cannot bear it.
So he manned himself, came manifest to us;
And there on the mountain they saw him, really saw him,
Saw his light.
We all know that if we really see him we die.
But isn’t that what is required of us?
Then, perhaps, we will see each other, too[iv].
The story of the transfiguration is meant to draw us into the mystery of Christ, into a moment where we, like the disciples, might be overwhelmed and maybe a little bit terrified. After all, God is speaking, and that’s a pretty big deal. If we take God’s words, and the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus Christ seriously, it should surround us with a sense of awe that makes us a bit uneasy. This isn’t a story we’re supposed to figure out. It’s a story we’re supposed to marvel in, and from there, deepen our own desire to listen more.
Put this way, our texts call us to attention, with God behind the microphone to show us the way. God does this in one of the biggest ways God can so that we don’t miss it all, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll take it to heart. God finishes each speech, and then, in a move usually reserved for epic musical performances or comedians, completes a “mic drop” – that moment where the microphone is intentionally dropped to signal triumph and completion, with complete confidence that there is nothing that could come back worthy of a response to change what has been said. Boom. That. Just. Happened.
It leaves us wondering what we’re going to do with it all, that truth God just laid down. God speaking tends to leave us speechless, stumped in how exactly to respond. It’s a huge message to undertake – how big and mighty God indeed is. But maybe that’s exactly the point. That on this Transfiguration Sunday, we don’t figure the story out completely, but instead take time to listen, soak in all of its mystery and epic nature, and simply exist in a state of awe and wonder. In doing so, we might just be modeling the kind of worshipful spirit both texts call us to. And when the mic drops, we might just be startled back into a way of being in the world that is transfigured ourselves, because we, too, have heard God speak. And after that, nothing will ever be the same. Amen.
~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
February 11, 2018
————————————————————————————————————-
[i] Charles Quaintance, “Theological Perspective: Psalm 50:1-6,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[ii] Brian Erickson, “Homiletical Perspective: Psalm 50:1-6,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, Editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008).
[iii] Brian Erickson.
[iv] Madeline L’Engle, as printed in Imaging the Word: An Arts and Lectionary Resource, Volume 3, Susan A. Blain, Editor, (Cleveland, Ohio: United Church Press, 1996).
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.