Transfiguration

When our kids were younger, Rick and I, and Tom and Willie, would travel by camping. We'd pile all our camping equipment in the back of the van, and take off for sites unknown. We love staying at National and State Parks, setting up our tent and campsite, and experiencing where we were in the out of doors. One of the most interesting places was Dinosaur State Park near Glen Allen Texas. We went there specifically to see the Tyrannosaurus Rex footprint in the creek bed. It was really cool. We saw the amazing starlit sky on the 4th of July from the shore of Truman Lake in the Army Corp of Engineers park in Missouri. We took the tour of the dam at Ft. Peck, Montana, and learned about all the mammoths unearthed there. And we drove the circle tour around Lake Superior and camped at the wonderful provincial parks in Canada, they had the best facilities anywhere. It was a great way to see the United States.

Many, many years before that, my next door neighbor and best friend growing up, would complain when her family went on road trips. Her dad insisted on stopping at every, literally every, roadside historical marker. She would be so impatient, she just wanted to get there, wherever there was. I do think that these trips they would take took a good deal of endurance.

Today we have this story about Peter, James and John, out on a camping trip possibly, high on a mountain top with Jesus, and something amazing happened. Much more amazing than the starlit sky over Lake Truman, way more awe inspiring than the mammoths in Montana, and truly more exciting than the historical markers dotting our highways. A mountaintop vision, and our wonderful Peter, the one who wanted Jesus to wash all of him after Jesus proposed washing his feet, the one who declared three times I Love you Lord, the one who declared three times, I don't know who he is, this Peter wants to erect a shrine, a tourist destination, a place to visit, so that others might come and witness this amazing thing. Now, I am much like Peter, and on first blush this seems like a good thing. But really, it's the difference between taking the trip to see the wonders of the world, which, again, is a good thing, and taking the trip because the pilgrimage is valuable in and of itself, and maybe even pitching our tent in one place for awhile.

I think it's the difference between being a tourist, or being a pilgrim. Do we visit the shrine that Peter wants to erect so that we can have an experience of glory, so that we might be entertained, or are we pilgrims on the way? I'm not sure that we can always tell the difference. But God's call to us is transformation, and that takes time. Eugene Peterson, author of a biblical translation called The Message, calls this "long obedience in the same direction." And he writes in a book by that name that "religion in our time has been captured by the tourist mindset. Religion is understood as a visit to an attractive site to be made when we have adequate leisure." Peterson continues, "for some it is a weekly jaunt to church; for others, occasional visits to special services. We go to see a new personality, to hear a new truth, to get a new experience and so somehow expand our otherwise humdrum lives. The religious life is defined as the latest and the newest."

This is really once again about our addiction to the instant and immediate. We are impatient for results, we have adopted the lifestyle of the tourist and only want the high points. We want the newest and the fastest, we want to visit at one site and make our way to the next as soon as possible. Our information must be at our fingertips, or we don't bother to get it. A long road trip seeking out historical markers seems interminable, and for many, unimaginably torturous.

Eugene Peterson says "pilgrim tells us we are people who spend our lives going someplace, going to God, and whose path for getting there is the way, Jesus Christ." I would add that sometimes on that way we need to set up our tent and make camp. Sometimes we need to stay awhile and see what happens. What happens may not always be spectacular or fabulous, it may be much more quiet, like the stars in the sky, or the historical markers on the road. But, transformation takes time, it is not instant nor immediate. It is a long obedience in the same direction. It is about growing and changing. It is like being trained in the work of a craftsman, it takes a lifetime to learn.

So let's say we go on the pilgrimage, we set up our tent and make camp, and Jesus shows up, and we, like Peter, James and John, are terrified. The call to transformation, the call to growth and change, may very well be terrifying, at the very least frightening, and if it's not, we'd better nail down our camp chairs, because it will be. I do believe if we are honest with ourselves and with others, growth and change are usually mighty scary propositions, which may be why many people, even most people would really rather not. Please leave things just the way they are thank you very much.

But the status quo is not what God calls us to. Over and over the story tells us that the Pharisees, who are lovers of the status quo, who really would rather keep things the way they are, were asked to change and grow. Why is that? The reality of suffering, death, and resurrection is why. What Jesus did and continues to do is to show us that we must die to that which is killing us, we must let go of that which sucks the life out of us, and what results is new and abundant life, and that is terrifying and life-giving all at the same time.

Transformation means that our well constructed walls come tumbling down, transformation means that our thick skins of pride, or false humility, are shed. Transformation means that as we love and serve others, we are made compassionate and merciful, and we are created in God's image. Transformation means that our real selves can then emerge. Our problem is that most of the time, our our walls, and our skins, and our masks are very, very, comfortable and familiar, and usually the very thing that is killing us. God knows our real selves, and loves us anyway. God knows who we are, and loves us anyway. God calls us to shed the lies, God calls us to let love win.

And the possibility of any of that happening as we continue as tourists is mighty slim. Transformation just doesn't really happen when we are tourists, looking to be entertained. It happens when we are pilgrims, when we pitch our tents once in a while, and listen for the real life God calls us live.

This week we enter into Lent, the church season that allows us some quiet space to listen to God. I invite you to the pilgrimage, to pitch your tent, to shed your skin, to be transformed.