Homily for the Feast of the Transfiguration 2018

As preached by Brother Christopher
Holy Wisdom Church

One of my favorite places to visit is the Clark Museum over in Williamstown. I usually get there a couple of times a year and each time I go I’m struck by the magic of painting: how the most ordinary of objects, events, and situations turn into portraits of intense beauty. Often the magic is created by the play of light — say in “Sunrise in the Woods” by George Inness, or “Apples in a Dish” by Renoir. What is ordinary glows from within in the simplest of settings.

            Reality is like that as well. What is most common shimmers when we see it in God’s light. In this morning’s Gospel Jesus takes Peter, James and John up the mountain… probably just a normal walk that he initiates. But in their presence, something unexpected happens: Jesus is transfigured. His face shown like the sun and his clothes were as dazzling as light. Jesus speaks to Moses and Elijah, who symbolize the Law and the Prophets. Their presence affirms Jesus’ identity and path. What is crucial for us to remember is the context for this passage. In the previous pericope, Jesus has just finished rebuking Peter for trying to dissuade him from following his path, a path Jesus knows will lead to his death. The rebuke is uncompromisingly strong: “Get behind me Satan, for you are not thinking as God thinks, but as human beings do.” (Mt 16:23) The transfiguration follows up on this, allowing us to “see” Jesus as he truly is and the implications of this for all creation.

All of us know that life is not black and white. Just as we know that there is an abundance of grace and beauty in life, so also there is an abundance of darkness and tragedy. How can we not take note of the images of war, violence, exploitation, death, and sin that we see every day on our televisions, as well as in our personal lives? The temptation for us in the face of this is to lose perspective and grow depressed and dispirited. We miss the forest through the trees. What the transfiguration reveals for us is that God’s light penetrates, yes redeems, even the most profound darkness. Jesus can accept, even embrace his destiny because he sees it in the context of the whole, the fact that this is how God’s unconditional love will be manifest: through the way of the cross. Thus he can press on resolutely towards Jerusalem.

            Jesus makes clear that we share in this path. Immediately prior to the transfiguration it was Jesus who told his disciples, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let them renounce themselves, take up their cross and follow me.” (Mt 16:24) Now he touches them and says, “Rise, be not afraid.” (Mt 17:7) This is not bad news, a call that ultimately leads to alienation and despair. Rather, just as the transfiguration reveals the light emanating from Jesus, a glow that now permeates the whole of creation, so does that glow become perceptible in our own journeys. The backdrop to our everyday is the fact that it is shot through, irradiated with the energy of divine light, even in the most challenging of circumstances. We have only to see with the eyes of our heart, and hope in what that reveals. “This is my beloved Son, Listen to him.”(Mt 17:5)

Sermon 158; Is 56:3,6-8; Rm 12:6-19; Mt 15:21-8. Whose first?

As Preached by Brother Luke
Holy Wisdom Chapel
August 05, 2018


I don’t know if others experience this, but I know for myself, if someone comes up to me out of the blue and asks me for something or to agree to something, my immediate, and seemingly knee jerk, response is no! So, when I began to reflect on this gospel reading, I was not put off by Jesus’ initial response to this woman. Undeterred, she persisted and, in the end, she got what she wanted. It reminds me also of the story about the unjust judge who finally relents after the woman who is pleading with him simply refuses to leave him alone until her demand is satisfied. So, persistence in prayer is at least one message in this gospel passage. Don’t be surprised by silence if you give up your prayer. Persistence, or we might say regularity, is needed to yield results. It is always easier to give up. We expect some immediate response and, in its absence, to let the feeling of despair or disappointment defeat us. Just as in this gospel story, St Paul says the same thing to the church in Rome: persevere in prayer. (12:12). Don’t give up.

However, another message is also embedded here. Notice what Jesus says to this Canaanite woman. It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs. Now Brother John of Taizé when touching on this passage notes that the word Jesus uses here is not dogs but the diminutive for that word which means puppies. We know that the Psalms have some references to dogs that are quite negative: they snarl all night, lips like swords, searching for food. They will tear you to pieces. But there is also the dog that consoles Lazarus at the gate of the rich man who never notices him. So, one might say that Jesus is not consigning this woman to outer darkness with an absolute rejection, he is, in a sense, pleading with her to understand that he has been sent on a mission to the children of Israel. That is his first priority. But as we see, even with that in mind, he relents and helps this woman too.

So, one might see in this passage the call to us to remember that our first task is to meet the needs of those nearest to us before we stretch ourselves out too far towards others. It does not mean that others do not matter, nor that we shouldn’t care about them, only that we need to work within our community and offer the needed healing there first and then widen our net. If we widen our net and forget those closest to us, we may be missing the most obvious meaning of love your neighbor. My neighbor is the one I meet regularly, who lives near to me, and who I cannot miss if I am observant. The rich man missed Lazarus right under his nose. It’s not just the rich who miss the needy living right under their noses.

But the ultimate message to us may be a part of the story that is not written here. My neighbor is not the real starting point. Where did Jesus go after his baptism? To the desert. Why? To work first on himself. So even his mission to the Israelites came after his own inner work. The implication for us is to notice that even in attending to needs in my community, I can only be effective if I have also worked on myself. Yet, to probe my inner darkness can be the most painful challenge that I will ever have to face. But if I do not do that, then I may simply spread my wounds around, rather than bring healing to others.

Indeed, the message here is about healing, but healing in its many dimensions and levels. My relationship with myself and with God provides the foundation to move out to my neighbors, to those closest to me, and then, finally out to the broader world beyond my immediate community. This is the pattern Jesus models for us. And the good news is that he is with us in all levels of this work.



Christ is in our midst.