Pacific Lutheran University Chapel Service - March 3, 2014
texts: Matthew 17:1-9; Isaiah 61:3
The three disciples were "Overcome with fear," petrified. And like the time Peter was sinking down in the waves, Jesus held his hand out and said "Get up, and do not be afraid." Actually, the original language says, "Be raised up and stop being afraid." Stop being afraid.
From the cloud God had said, "This is my Son. The Beloved. Listen to him." Listen to him. And Jesus' first words after that were to be raised up and to stop being afraid.
Near the root of Christian maturity is learning to trust what God sees in us, and from that vision learning not to be afraid. The preacher Gordon Cosby once said, "When I reflect deeply on my life and what I really want, it is not to be afraid. When I am afraid, I am miserable. ...I restrict myself. I hide the talent of me in the ground. I am not deeply alive. ...So, more than anything else, I want to be delivered from fear."
And that can happen when we start trusting that God loves what he sees when he looks at us. Growing up, was there anyone who nagged you to "Stand up straight!"? Grandma to Grandchild: "You're too pretty/handsome to slouch like that." It's too bad we never heard or believed the complement behind that command. And really, it wasn't about external beauty. I don't think anyone's grandma ever said, "Slouch down, you're too ugly to stand straight."
Don't you dare despise one whom God loves. Not even yourself. Sometimes you need to step outside yourself enough to be the friend you need. Love your neighbor and do not despise yourself. God wants you to see in yourself and others what he has seen from the start.
I knew a kid in high school who slunk from class to class. Call him Ted. He'd take hallways he knew had less traffic in order to avoid people, keeping to the edges with his head down. He had a hard time looking other people in the eye, because he was afraid of what he might see reflected back in their eyes. He nearly hit bottom. But somehow one day, he suddenly realized that he and the way he was acting, he was the greatest cause of his own lonliness and fear. with nothing to lose, he decided to make one last desparate experiment.
Ted decided that for one day, he would pretend--pretend he wasn't afraid or shy. He had very little to lose; he forced himself to walk down the middle of the more crowded hallways. He made himself look at people as he passed them, instead of the floor. His heart was pounding, palms sweating. It was so very hard to break those habits.
But in just one day or two, he was surprised. Kids who'd never said a thing before, had said, "Hi." Most passed unnoticing, but a few gave quick smiles. After the first few shocks, he smiled back, said "hi" back. He felt there was nothing to lose, and was surprised to find how much he'd been missing. It's not clothes, not hair or makeup, ...all of this is less about weight, physical beauty and age than we ever realized.
We are called to venture down scary hallways. Grasping firmly, sometimes desperately, to our baptismal origins, we need to trust the way God looks at us, and we move out. After all, we will not be able to lose our fears until we experience what it means to risk and love and share our faith.
The most attractive people are those who care about others and have the guts to show it in bold and sometimes impulsive ways. They move through the world, not unaware of its dangers, but in their face.
In one of his last works, Henri Nouwen transformation, and he said that "we become beautiful people when we give whatever we can give: a smile, a handshake, a kiss, an embrace, a word of love, a part of our life ...all of our life."
"We become beautiful people." Beautiful people. We know these people, whose faces of experience have been creased into smiles. Or their eyes shine with an inner joy.
You know people like that. They can be clumsy, make goofy mistakes, and yet they are graceful, they carry grace. They have experienced life, and still they smile. They love. Beautiful. Old wrinkled Mother Theresa, if you could've kissed her cheek, you'd have kissed a most beautiful girl. She slouched in age, but she rose in stature. There are others, less known or heroic, but just as beautiful.
This is Monday between Transfiguration Sunday and Ash Wednesday. I've been meditating on Isaiah 61:3 where the New Living Translation promises that we will be able to exchange our ashes for the beauty of God. "Ashes for beauty." Between now and Wednesday, think about what ashes those are, that you will make visible, and then wipe them away. What old hurts, what weights and fears will you leave to God, and leave behind on Wednesday night? Trade your ashes for beauty.
This is the grace that transfigures you and me. First, we are given a place of origin; then, the promise of forgiveness as we act in spite of fears; and finally, we are given a place of destiny, where we will become more fully what God first saw in us: Beauty. Listen to him: "You are my child, with whom I am well-pleased." "You are my child, with whom I am well-pleased." So, stop being afraid.
Let us pray: Holy God, as you awoke the disciples to your presence in Christ, shake the sleep from our eyes, let the scales of cynicism and fear fall from our vision, and lead us now into the valley more aware of your love and our beauty. Amen.