Listen to him!
by Jeremiah Bartram on 22/02/10 at 7:11 am
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 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. 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. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 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. Luke 9, 28-36; reading for Sunday, February 28, the Second Sunday of Lent.
Commentators
NRSV: “The Transfiguration (Mt 17, 1-9; Mk 9, 2-10). This account recalls an intense religious experience, the exact nature of which is uncertain. The aura of unnatural brilliance is associated with mystical experiences elsewhere (Ex. 34. 29-35; Mt 17.9; Acts 9.3).
Hardy thinks we should not use the word “transfiguration” for this episode: instead of using the word “transfigured”, Luke writes that “the appearance of his face changed” and notes that it took place “while he was praying.” Hardy thinks that Luke’s account retains an emphasis on supernatural glory found in Matthew and Mark, but adds some touches to make the story more comprehensible – at the expense of some symbolic meaning. In particular, he notes Luke’s use of the word “departure” at Jerusalem, rather than death; the word is a euphemism for death, but also refers to the exodus of Israel from Egypt. Also, Peter’s idea of building three “dwellings” comes as Moses and Elijah were leaving – hoping perhaps to detain them.
Hugues Cousin (Les evangiles, textes et commentaires) reminds us that the sayings that precede this episode – so carefully noted by Luke – are Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Messiah, and Jesus’ warning to his disciples that in following him, they must take up their cross. He notes that the glory that fills Jesus is an anticipation of the glory of the Resurrection, but that it also inhabits Jesus already, and reveals itself in his prayer. He presents Moses and Elijah as representing the Law and the Prophets. In Luke’s version, they don’t announce his passion and Resurrection to him: he has already done that himself. Rather, they confirm its consistency with the divine plan of salvation, along with the central role of Jerusalem. The cloud signifies the presence of God (c.f. Nb 9.15-22) – and it is this cloud, with his presence, that terrifies the disciples. And the voice of the unseen and unseeable God, the Holy One, tells them and us that Jesus speaks with greater authority than either Moses or Elijah.
Gospel for gays
This reading confronts us with the otherness of God, the holiness of God – and the awe that is appropriate for any who dare to approach him.
Such a concept of God is familiar to Islam, but here in the secular west we are uncomfortable with it. We reduce God to a feeling, a cultural habit, a psychological prop.
We have lost the fear of God.
But you can’t get around the fact of God’s glory if you reflect on this Sunday’s reading.
The story, however strange to a secular mind, is straightforward: Jesus takes three close disciples with him into a place apart, a mountainous site. He prays, and despite the sleep that clogs their senses, they see his face and garments shining with interior light; Moses and Elijah are present with him. Then Moses and Elijah leave, and there is a cloud that conceals God himself, whose voice they hear proclaiming that Jesus is his chosen son, and commanding, “Listen to him.” So awesome is the experience that they tell no one about it until after the death and Resurrection of the Lord.
So the first and maybe the only thing to say about this reading is very simple and very hard: it requires faith.
Unlike the three disciples, we have not lived with the historical Jesus, and we have not travelled with him up the mountain, been subject to that strange mystical sleepiness, and seen what they saw. Neither have we experienced the cloud that conceals and reveals the Yahweh God, and felt that holy fear.
We live in a reductionist era, that places humans at the centre of everything, and automatically seeks empirical explanations for all phenomena, including God. Disbelief is more natural to us than belief.
Yet here, we are asked simply to believe in a holiness that is other and absolute – but accessible to us through this Jesus who so emphatically shares it.
**
Since my project is to explore the potential gayness of gospel texts, I write and think about sexuality a lot.
Sexuality has many aspects and many purposes, of which procreation is merely one. Sexuality cannot be separated from our nature, our individuality, our way of being and interacting and praying and feeling.
It cannot be separated from holiness; cannot be separated from God and our necessarily limited and all too human experience of God.
Our God is not the detached god of deists – the being who created a mechanical universe and now spends eternity watching it, without further involvement. Our God is engaged in our lives, and the processes and laws of nature are alive with his creative power.
So I think it is a huge error to separate sexuality from the holiness of God, as for centuries Christians have done, even if God is other. In the absolute holiness of God, does it matter whether sexuality is gay, or something else? It only is: and what matters is that it exists for his glory and honors him.
Sexuality is holy, as creation is holy, and bows before him. The question for each of us, a prayerful question, a humble question, an ongoing question is not whether sexuality is holy, but rather how to live it: how to participate in the holiness of God as sexual beings. This involves an iterative process of discovery.
**
Which leads to Jesus and the command, “Listen to him.”
At each step in his very coherent account of Jesus’ ministry, Luke shows us a man who learns, in communion with the Yahweh God. We in our turn (sexual beings, gay people) listen to Jesus, the Master, by following his example of experiential learning.
But if we can never really “discover” the historical Jesus (since he left no written records of his own, and we are always reflecting on versions of his life written largely by males who in fact never met him, their sources unknown and unverifiable) how can we be sure we are listening to him?
First, through faith that the symbols in which the writers clothe him, and the stories they ascribe to him contain all the information we need to find the Jesus whom we seek.
Secondly, through prayer.
Prayer is the great equalizer. Here we are, all these generations after he walked on a tiny portion of this earth, in a single brief life. But in prayer, we experience his transformative presence in our own lives, now – as Paul did, as the evangelists did, as the disciples did, as Mary did. And as he himself also did, in communion with God, according to today’s reading.
We listen to him, through prayer. Experiential prayer.
The Magisterium would tell us that we also listen to him through its teachings, and of course I accept that. But when it comes to sexuality and holiness, how much credibility does the Magisterium have? What is the quality and relevance of the experience from which it draws?
Doesn’t it need to listen to us and our experience, our gay experience, in its ongoing and no doubt sincere effort to “Listen to Him”?
