“God’s grace to
those who don’t measure-up”
Sermon preached at
St. Mark’s,
By The Rev. Tom Pumphrey, February 3rd, 2008
Last Sunday after Epiphany (year A)
Matthew 17:1-9
Matthew 17:1-9 (NRSV)
Six
days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led
them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them,
and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter
said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make
three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he
was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the
cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased;
listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were
overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not
be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself
alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one
about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
There is a cliché in American life that is all too often accurate. This is the cliché about the hard-driven businessman who focuses all his energy on his career. He wants to be the best and beat out all the competition and sacrifice everything to win. He devotes all his time and energy into reaching the top and building wealth and fame. All too often men who fit the cliché leave troubled and broken families in their wakes, employees and competitors and colleagues who weren’t a help to the career goal. But even more often, these men run into the wall of their own fallibility. Sooner or later they fail, and they fail hard. They fail through their own mistakes, and sometimes their failure is out of their control. Either way, they are left feeling that they do not measure up in a world where value is placed on title and net worth, and they find themselves in deep despair. For those who have not reached this point, their lives are consumed by fear of reaching it. They fear their own failure because they know the hidden truth that they really don’t measure up, and it haunts them. They are driven by the fear that they will never measure up.
Of course, in the last 30-40 years, women have joined this rat race, only they fear failing both in career and family. Though you have to admire the way that family is a shared priority with career, still they, too, live with the fear of never measuring up as a CEO or a mother. Students in school fear not measuring up in the social world, or obsess over their grades. They fear not measuring up to their peers or their parents or their favorite college or job prospect. We see this kind of fear in the church as well, among clergy and lay ministers. Even seniors fear not measuring up if they start to lose their ability to do the things they used to do—losses that appear due to age or illness. The rest of us know that who they are means so much more than what they can do, but nonetheless, so many live with the fear that they no longer matter.
People from all walks of life so often become consumed by a fear that they don’t measure up. They fear that by failing to achieve perfection, they will be found worthless—in their own eyes, in others’ eyes, and even in God’s eyes. This is the fear of not measuring up.
I wonder if this fear plays a role in the account of Jesus’
transfiguration. Today is the Last Sunday in Epiphany season, and on this
Sunday, we always hear an account of the Transfiguration. Jesus goes up to a
high place with Peter and James and John. The occasion is right after Peter
declares that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. Jesus then begins
to tell his disciples of the journey to
But then, the voice of God the Father speaks from a cloud—just as he did at Jesus’ Baptism. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased;” and he adds “Listen to him.” At this point, Peter and James and John fall on their faces, overcome by fear. Now if I were to have been afraid, it might have been when Jesus started shining brightly, and Moses and Elijah appeared. But these disciples really fell to the ground when they heard the voice of God the Father. They were overcome by fear. There is a strong precedent in scripture that says that the fear of the Lord is a good thing. But since Jesus then tells them not to be afraid, I think that there is something else going on here.
The “good” fear of Lord is reverence and respect. This is the kind of fear that recognizes that God is God and we are NOT God. This is the kind of respect that means we’ll stop talking and listen—both because God is more powerful, and because God is infinitely worth listening to. This kind of fear and respect is indeed good—it is honest about God and about ourselves, and it reminds us to pay attention. God’s command to the disciples still stands for them and for us: “Listen to him!” the Father says of Jesus.
But Jesus tells them “do not be afraid.” Perhaps there is another kind of fear going on that is counter to Jesus’ objectives, and thus counter to God’s desires. There is a tradition in the Bible that no one can see God’s face and live. God is entirely Holy, and since we are fallible and sinful, we dare not approach the presence of the Holy God, or else we will surely die. Jesus does nothing to dispel the basic fact of God’s holiness, nor the basic fact of our sinfulness. But he does ask us not to be afraid.
Robert Tuttle, professor of Evangelism at Asbury Seminary, writes about what he calls “transcultural” elements in people’s lives that connect with the Good news about Jesus.[1] These are the felt needs of people everywhere—around the globe and in all walks of life—that are directly addressed by God in the central messages of the Gospel. One of these felt needs that Tuttle sees as universal is the deep and driving need to measure up and the haunting knowledge that we don’t measure up. We all inherently understand that there are standards—standards worth pursuing. But we also fear the growing awareness that we can never measure up. This fear can lead to debilitating despair, but also to a reluctance to ever approach God. We know we don’t measure up in God’s eyes, and we fear God’s presence because of it.
But the central message of Christianity is not the high
standards. We have high standards, indeed, but the central message of
Christianity is God’s love for us in Jesus Christ. This is the “Amazing Grace”
that
And better yet, in Jesus Christ, we receive the gift of the Holy Spirit to change our lives—to actually grow into God’s love and God’s standards that we thought were so impossible to achieve. The Transfiguration is not just a sign of who Jesus is; the transfiguration is also a sign of how Jesus can change us as well.
Look what Jesus does. When the disciples fall on their faces at the voice of God the Father, and his command to listen, Jesus comes to them. Jesus comes to them and touches them. Remember what I talked about last week—about the presence of God casting out fear and giving us strength? Here Jesus touches the disciples, assuring them of his presence, connecting with them not as some unapproachable power, but as a physical and loving presence. “Get up and do not be afraid,” he tells them. Jesus reaches out to overcome their fears with his presence. This is the central message of the Gospel—the message of grace—the gift of God’s unearned love to people who don’t measure up.
This message of “Do not be afraid” seems particularly appropriate as we begin Lent this Wednesday. On Ash Wednesday, we are reminded that we are dust, and that to dust we shall return. We give up the myth of the perfect businessman or the perfect parent or student or the perfect senior. But the call to Lent is not a call to despair. The Lenten call to self-examination and penitence is not a call to wallow in self-hatred. In Lent, we seek to be honest about our failings, especially because that honesty helps us bring more of ourselves into relationship with Jesus.
Yes, we are dust. But Jesus died for us people of dust. And Jesus rose to life again so that the breath of the Holy Spirit might fill our hearts of dust, so that we might feel his touch and share that touch, and bring to the fearful world around us the powerful gift of God’s grace.