“…the appearance of His face changed…”  (Luke 9:29)

 Not long ago, our Stephen Ministers watched a DVD about the ministry of Hospice and what can happen to loved ones in those last days of life.  It was a very positive and creative way of looking at approaching death for those who are the caregivers to the dying.

In one of the scenes, it talked about “disfigurement.”  This is a hard one to face as we watch our loved ones move into that stage where “normal” facial expressions can go away only to be replaced by faces of pain and distress.  Often, the only way to remedy this stage of the dying is death itself.

The “transfiguration” of our Lord was also difficult for Peter, James, and John to watch,  Their friend and Master, Jesus, was changed right before them!  Was it the brightness of the light that caused them to have to look away, or, were they simply overwhelmed with this powerfully potent experience of God?

With their faces bowed to the ground, they still heard the Lord talking (about things with whom they presumed were Elijah and Moses…How did they know who these guys were?), but dared not to look up.  Fear? Awe?  Confusion? All three?

When we see transformations happening in our lives—graduations of our children, new jobs for us, the simple growing up of our grandchildren—we can handle that.  We handle it because it’s a process, it’s something that moves slowly and we can watch it without fear and deal with it.  True, we wonder – at these experiences – where the time has gone, but still, we handle it.

Disfigurements and Transfigurations still are hard.  Disfigurements can only be released from this physical  altercation of body and face by the release of tension—either by medication, or, as we said earlier, death itself—and we can finally see and remember them as they once were.  Tranfigurations, at least the one we will talk about this Sunday, is only momentary, but momentous none the less.  It’s a lightning quick experience that had to have changed those three disciples lives forever!  The physical change of the Lord – into whatever scholars want to suggest He was transfigured into – even with the quick sight before their faces hit the ground, must have been amazing and frightening.  Imagine you’re witnessing a good friend who changes like that and then the next moment there seems to be no change.  How do you think you’d feel after that?

We see the light maybe more than we realize.  Maybe because it is divinely filtered somehow in our daily lives as not to frighten us.  I see it in the acolyte’s lighter; I witness it in a shut-in’s smile when I visit; I sense it every time the Eucharist is celebrated; I experience it every time someone shares their story of Christ with me each time we counsel.  It is a bit dim, I admit, but a transforming that is deeper than that.  It is a transfiguring experience as those frowns turn upside down—those lines across many a face are somehow lightened—however momentary (like the experience of Jesus’ transfiguration), it is there.  And, it is significant.

As ashes, and deep, spiritual commitment are upon us next week.  In the somber darkness of winter and Lent, seek the light.  Seek the very transfiguring of the heart and mind – not only physical change, but also what comes with it:  a mindful peace and comfort, that as Paul says, often passes us by.

Be transformed, but, better yet, be transfigured.  Smile.  Love.  Care: and, know that you are loved.

God loves you and so do I!

Pastor Jim