"Transformation"

To paraphrase an old axiom, “Those who speak [about God] do not know God, and those who know [God] do not speak [about God].”  It puts the preacher in an awkward position, since we make our living talking about God.  The axiom is pointing to the limitations of language but, fortunately, when referring to spiritual matters there is a technical language that takes us beyond the normal linguistic restrictions.  That language is symbolism.  Symbols point in the direction of the indescribable, and symbols are essential to our understanding of this morning’s Gospel lesson, as well as the 12^th chapter of Romans.

Consider the symbolism of space.  This morning is Transfiguration Sunday, referring to Mark’s symbolic account of Jesus being transfigured into a Being of Light on a high mountain, in the presence of his closest disciples.  The words tell us that Jesus was enveloped in a cloud of glory, what later writers would refer to as a “Cloud of Unknowing,” which expresses the inability of rational thought to comprehend, and of everyday language to describe what was experienced.  The symbolic language is pointing toward a mystical vision of the highest order.  We know it’s of the “highest order” because it takes place on a mountain, just as the revelation of God’s Law was delivered to Moses on a mountain, just as Jesus’ highest, most exalted teaching was delivered in a sermon “on the mount.”   It is a symbol, a spatial metaphor.  Nearness to God, in an external sense, is symbolized as occurring on mountaintops and in high places.

Dionysius the Areopagite, a mystical writer of the 5^th century, uses this exalted, symbolic language in his prayer.  Listen to his words: 

“Guide us to that topmost height of mystic lore which surpasses light and more than surpasses knowledge, where the simple, absolute unchangeable mysteries of heavenly Truth lie hidden in the dazzling obscurity of the sacred Silence, outshining all brilliance with the intensity of their darkness, and surcharging our blinded intellects with the utterly impalpable and invisible fairness of glories which exceed all beauty.” [quoted by Huston Smith in The Soul of Christianity, p. 30.  All subsequent quotes are from Smith.]

The interesting thing is that the symbolism is reversed when we’re talking about drawing near to God in an internal sense.  Now, instead of going up, we go down, deeper, into our heart, into the depths of our soul, to the “Ground of our Being.”  "The Kingdom of God,” Jesus says, is “within.”  Jesus does not dwell on the mountain; he dwells in our hearts.  That’s the symbolism we’ve sought to express on the bulletin cover by placing the Mount of Transfiguration inside the heart of love.

The spatial paradox is that we know God is always near us, but we are not always near God.  Why?  Because we are not always in touch with our own true self.  We don’t go deep.  Most of the time our thought and attention are focused on the ever-changing challenges, obligations, worries and entertainments of daily life.  A life lived in depth, focused on the unchanging, eternal inner things of the Spirit is a rare and difficult thing.  It has never been easy, but it is especially difficult to accomplish in our modern and often shallow, fast-paced and often superficial culture.

Now, turning to Romans, the first thing to note is that Paul uses the same Greek word, “transfigure,” only it is translated “transform” in this context.  Here’s the passage:  “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.”  Just as Jesus was externally transfigured on the mountaintop, so we are to be internally transformed by the renewal of our minds.  I’ll come back to that in a moment.

Romans 12 starts out with a great “Therefore” that refers to everything that has gone before, everything we’ve been talking about for the past 6 weeks.  Here’s my own version of a long, Pauline-type run-on sentence that tries to say it all:  “Therefore, since all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God and consequently feel distant and alienated – but, since God so loved the world that God took on flesh to perfectly express divine love in human form – and, since through faith in that incarnate love we are invited back into right relationship with God and given the evidence of God’s loving presence in the person of the Holy Spirit that lives in our hearts, therefore . . !” 

That’s the lead in to “I appeal to you, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, which is spiritual worship, and do not be conformed to the world but be transformed by the renewal of your minds.”  Peterson’s paraphrase of this passage in The Message gets to the true meaning of what a “living sacrifice” is:  “So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you,” he writes: “Take your everyday, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life – and place it before God as an offering.  Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for God.  Don’t become so well adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking.  Instead, fix your attention on God.  You’ll be changed from the inside out.” 

What does it mean, to be “conformed to the world?”  The Greek word used here is schema.  We get our word “schematic” from this root.  The architects have drawn the schematic design for the exterior façade of our new wing.  Schema refers to the external form. It’s a generalized plan or scheme that is subject to change.  The form can change, be torn down and rebuilt.  Paul cautions us not to conform to this changeable form.  Peterson warns us not to be “too well-adjusted.”  J.B. Phillips says, “Don’t be “squeezed into” the world’s shape, because its schema doesn’t last.

But, “be ye transformed by the renewal of your minds.”  The word transform contains the Greek root, morpho, which refers to eternal form, to unchanging essence. To be “trans-formed” is to take on the unchanging form.  How does this transformation come about?  By the “renewal of our minds.”  Or, perhaps Peterson says it best:  “Fix your attention on God and you’ll be changed from the inside out.” 

What does this transformed life look like?  That’s the subject of chapter 12 and I’m challenging you to read it for yourself.  Paul writes about modesty and humility, about how we’re to recognize that God has blessed each of us with different gifts, and how they’re to be used to build up the Body of Christ.  He tells us that the transformed life results in genuine love for one another, and even for our enemies.  The transformed life is one of generosity, patience, hope and prayer. 

But words can never really describe what a transformed life looks like.  Symbols can point the way but, ultimately, the transformed life can only be lived.  Thankfully, by the grace of God, we have the perfect example of a transformed life to model ourselves after.  Dostoyevsky is describing the beauty of this transfigured, transformed, eternal and unchanging form when he writes:  “There is in the world only one figure of absolute beauty: Jesus Christ.  That infinitely lovely figure is an infinite marvel.”  [p. 61]

Quoting Huston Smith:  “Certainly, the most impressive thing about the teachings of Jesus is not that he taught them but that he lived them.  From the accounts we have, his entire life was one of humility, self-giving, and love that sought not its own . . . it is impossible to listen to what Jesus said about selflessness without sensing how free of pride he himself was.  Similarly with sincerity: what he said on the subject could have been said only by someone whose life was uncluttered by deceit and guile.  Truth to him was like the life-giving air we breathe.  Through the pages of the Gospels Jesus emerges as a man of strength and integrity who bore about him no strangeness at all save the strangeness of perfection.”  [p. 62]

The Truth of the Transfigured Christ is living still, offering you and me the power of being transformed.  That’s the way it all started, and it continues today.  I’ll close with this:  “The compassion the disciples had encountered in Jesus was powerful – victorious over everything.  This conviction transformed a dozen or so disconsolate followers of a slain and discredited leader into one of the most dynamic forces in human history, and the tongues of fire that descended upon them at Pentecost set the Mediterranean world aflame.  People who were not speakers waxed eloquent.  They exploded across the Greco-Roman world, preaching what has come to be called ‘the Gospel.’  They spread their message with such fervor that in Jesus’ very generation it took root in every major city of the region.”  [p. 76]

And now that Good News of God’s love has spread throughout the world.  That eternal life of truth and love, of peace and beauty is living still, inviting you, and inviting me - “be ye transformed” into the likeness of God’s eternal love.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.