Encountering God

Alicia Johnson

Scriptures: Matthew 17:1-9; Exodus 24:12-18

In today’s Gospel reading, we hear the story of the Transfiguration. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain. There, Jesus’ face begins to shine like the sun, and his clothes become dazzling white. He becomes transfigured. From there, it gets even more astounding as Moses and Elijah appear and a voice from a bright cloud announces, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Wow! With visions and voices, this is a dramatic tale.

I was talking about this passage with some of my seminary classmates who are also preaching today. They expressed dread, saying they had no idea what to make of this story and wondering how in the world they were going to preach about it. I was a little surprised. For one thing, the Gospel is full of stories of healing and casting out demons and Jesus’ resurrection – some visions and voices seem in line with those stories to me. But beyond that, I was surprised because I love this passage.
It’s evocative – sights and sounds and Jesus’ touch as he comforts the disciples. If I really think about it I can smell and maybe even taste the bright cloud – I imagine it like a foggy winter morning where the air is thick and fresh and cold.

I also love this story because it resonates with me. While I haven’t experienced anything as dramatic as this story, I have had my own similar experiences. I’ve had moments during good conversations or doing yoga or singing a song to my baby Julia where the scene – and people in particular – take on a warm golden glow. I have to admit, I feel a little embarrassed or maybe self-conscious sharing this. There are many mystics who have influenced our tradition, from Julian of Norwich who had visions of Christ while ill in the 1300s, to more modern mystics like Thomas Merton in the mid-20th Century, and Cynthia Bourgeault today. But in our culture, we often pride ourselves on being reasonable and rational. We don’t often talk about our experiences with God.

What about you? There are many ways to experience God’s presence beyond the visions and voices in this story. Throughout scripture and history, people describe experiences of healing and powerful dreams. Being out in nature can awaken us to God’s presence. We can encounter God in many other ways as well – here in church during the Eucharist, during a moment of calm at the end of a long day, or finding clarity with a list of pros and cons when you’re trying to make a decision. Don’t underestimate the power of a good pro/con list!

I want you to think about one of these moments in your life – something big or something small. Think about how it felt. Maybe it felt like a release, like letting go of tension or setting down a heavy burden. Maybe it felt like a spark or like butterflies in your stomach. Maybe it was terrifying, giving you a sense of “oh no, I think I have to do something really hard.” What did it feel like? And what happened next? Did you tell anyone? Did anything change?

In our readings today, we see examples of what can happen during and after an encounter with God. In our reading from Exodus, we don’t hear much about Moses’ reaction, but this is not his first time meeting God. Earlier, in Exodus 3, God calls out to Moses from the burning bush, and Moses hides his face because he is afraid to look at God. In that encounter, God tells Moses to go to Pharaoh and advocate for the release of the Israelites from their enslavement in Egypt. Despite his anxiety and with God’s help, he does it, and the Israelites are ultimately freed. In today’s story, God calls Moses up the mountain, and he goes. Then, after 40 days and nights with God, Moses returns to the people and shares God’s laws, transforming Israelite culture and practices. Both of these encounters that Moses has with God lead to incredible transformation.

In the Gospel, Jesus is in the middle of his ministry, healing and teaching. He has just started to prophesy about his death to the disciples who find it unsettling and confusing. Shortly before this story of the Transfiguration, Peter rebukes Jesus and tells him that his violent death must not happen. Then Jesus invites Peter, James, and John to go up the mountain with him. When Jesus is transfigured and Moses and Elijah appear, Peter declares, “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” He appreciates this holy moment. And then he immediately jumps to action, saying he will make dwellings for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Now, I had always understood this to mean something like a permanent monument, but the word here, sukkah, indicates a temporary shelter. This was more of an offer of hospitality, a place for them to rest in that moment, than a shrine. But before Peter can do anything, the voice comes from the cloud. The voice echoes what was said at Jesus’ baptism – “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well-pleased” – and adds on, “listen to him!” At this, the disciples are overcome by fear until Jesus’ touch and reassurance calms them.

Then, they look up, and it’s over – just them and Jesus on the mountainside. What happens next, after they find things suddenly back to normal? They walk down to rejoin the others, and Jesus tells them not to tell anyone about this until after his resurrection. I wonder if the disciples actually kept quiet about this experience. Throughout the gospels we see that people don’t follow this request. Jesus heals a leper and tells him not to tell anyone, but the man “proclaims it freely” leading many more people to seek Jesus for healing. After healing a deaf man, Jesus again said not to tell anyone, but as it says in the book of Mark, “the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it.” When Peter, James, and John came down the mountain and the other disciples asked how their day was, did they say, “You will never believe this!” Or were they so stunned that they had no idea how to talk about it, so they simply replied, “Pretty good.”

We don’t get to know these conversations. We just see that Peter and the other disciples go back to their role following Jesus. Things continue on. There are many events on the horizon. Jesus will later predict Peter’s denial of him, and despite Peter’s protests, he will indeed deny Jesus three times. Jesus will be crucified and resurrected. The Holy Spirit will inspire Jesus’ followers on the day of Pentecost, and Peter will become one of the main leaders in the early church. Peter will die a martyr, persecuted for his devotion to Christ. But for now, they go down the mountain and follow as Jesus continues healing and teaching.

How do our encounters with God play out? Perhaps the experience leads directly to change. Like how Moses was called to go to Pharaoh, maybe you were suddenly struck with a realization that you needed to do something. When Moses was given the law, that encounter marked a distinct shift, a before and after, and life for the Israelites was never the same. Maybe your encounter happened at a turning point like that or at a birth or a death – a moment where there is no going back. In these instances, the transformation can be major, sudden, and obvious.

Or maybe your experience is more like the Transfiguration. You’re going along in your life, you have a holy moment that you can’t quite wrap your mind around, and then you go back to daily life, knowing that something has shifted, but you’re not sure exactly how. Peter wasn’t instantly transformed into a holy church leader – remember, he would still go on to deny knowing Jesus’ three times in one night before the crucifixion. But he is on that path toward following his call to be a founder of the church. These moments, the ones that don’t lead directly to an earth-shattering change, can be hard to understand, hard to put into words. I wonder what would happen if we could talk to each other about these moments. Could we help each other understand how to let these experiences transform us?

Here, I’ll start. When I have experienced those “golden glow” moments, it has been when I have been truly present with other people. Sometimes the moment feels so small – like singing the ABCs to Julia – so it’s been hard to figure out. But I suspect it has something to do with presence – it’s never happened when I’ve been halfheartedly trying to distract her during a long car ride, for example, but when we’re sitting at home together, just playing. I think in these moments, God is drawing my attention to the holy power of love and being present to one another. It doesn’t feel like one of those moments that leads me to drop everything I’m doing and change my life. It’s small and mysterious, but I will try to keep showing up and being there for the people I encounter and be open to the possibility of transformation.

In today’s time of upheaval and anxiety, we often feel like we need to do something. We may be afraid, angry, overwhelmed. We may feel helpless in the face of injustice and suffering. In these times, it is ever more important to act out of God’s love using our particular gifts and strengths, rather than acting out of fear and anger. We can pay attention to the moments where God calls to us, whether as a loud voice in a bright cloud or a still small voice deep in our bones. By reflecting on these moments, within our hearts and within our community, God can transform our lives and, I pray, our world.