|
All of the readings this morning deal, in one way or another, with the
problem of radiance. By radiance I mean simply the presence or light
of God that shines out of all creation, including you and me. It’s not
really a problem for creation – the flash of a red-wing blackbird’s
wing against the blue sky, the morning sun on the snow-laden mountains
across the Burrard inlet – these we regard as simple, beautiful
blessings of the Creator. “The whole word”, says the poet Hopkins, “is
charged with the glory of God.”
The problem begins when that same
radiance, the glory of God, shines out of human beings. We don’t know
what to make of it. Take the story from Exodus today. Moses goes up a
mountain to commune with the Holy One, and returns with a beaming
countenance, which you’d think would be an unambiguously good thing.
But see what happens? Moses goes in to talk with the people, so they
get to see the radiance. But then, before it wears off Moses covers
his face with a veil, and then goes back up the mountain to get
recharged. What’s going on?
What’s at stake in this passage is
Moses authority as a leader. His radiance is what convinces the people
that he really is God’s representative, fit to lead them. But Moses
knows that this is a finicky lot. They’ve already come close to offing
him because things didn’t go quite according to their plans. Moses is
keenly aware that his authority as a leader, and perhaps his very
life, depends upon his personal wattage. So before the shining wears
off he puts a veil over his face. Notice that radiance is believed to
be located exclusively here in a chosen individual. He’s got the glory
and so he’s got the responsibility! And the people like it that way.
Something about this passage
resonated with the early Christian community because first Paul and
then the gospel writers do a theological riff – a little Midrash – on
the story. In the gospel story, known as the transfiguration, Jesus
takes three disciples up the mountain (like Moses), and has a chat
with two Jewish prophets, Moses and Elijah. Jesus’ radiance apparently
is overwhelming. Then, when Moses and Elijah disappear, Peter suggests
building three booths, one for each of the prophets. But the writer of
the story says that Peter didn’t know what he was saying. His mistake
apparently was putting Jesus on par with the other two. They should
have noticed, according to the gospel tradition that Jesus’ radiance
was brighter and more enduring. Here again, like in the story of Moses
going up the mountain, the light of the transfiguration is used by the
gospel writer to suggest that Jesus alone was God’s special
envoy. The disciples should be listening to him, and not the other
two. Once more, radiance is located exclusively in the leader – Jesus
of Nazareth.
But you know, Paul gets it. He takes
the same passage from Exodus but comes to a radically different
conclusion – namely “all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the
glory of God as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed
into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this
comes from the Lord, the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3: 12 -4:2).
“All of us”. There’s the
key. Holy radiance doesn’t just shine out of special individuals,
chosen by God. God doesn’t work that way. We’re all chosen, all full
of glory. Toss the veils, friends. Let it shine, let it shine, let it
shine, as the children’s song goes. This journey through time is about
being transformed by the same image that shone from Christ, from one
degree of glory to another. We’re meant to evolve in our capacity for
radiance – that’s the spiritual path. As if reading our mind and
hearing our silent protest, Paul writes that this radiance comes from
the Spirit – it’s not about us so get over it.
This is the little secret that we
keep even from ourselves. We like the arrangement by which only
certain “others” are specially called. It lets us off the hook. We’ll
let them shine. Some congregations make a habit of this. If
they perceive that the minister’s light is not shining quite brightly
enough, so much for their leader. We like the light being located in
someone else. Then when it doesn’t work out we have a scapegoat.
Everybody’s all worked up these days over whether Canadian Muslim
women should wear a veil or not. But folks, let’s first ask if we
ourselves wear the veil that keeps our radiance from shining out. It’s
a lot easier to hide behind the veil and call it humility than to tear
it off and let Christ shine through us.
That’s my experience anyway. In my
own life, I know what it means that we are called to go from one
degree of glory to another. It’s terrifying, because the more light
that comes through, the more exposure – the more people can see you.
I’m currently in a phase of my life when God seems to be calling me to
increase the wattage, to go public – write books, do public talks and
workshops, speak out about a progressive Christian faith – not from
the safety of this sanctuary, not preaching to the choir – but out
there in the public, where they eat Christians alive! Ok, I’m
exaggerating a bit. At least I hope I’m exaggerating. God’s calling
me to let my light shine, but here’s the thing. If it were all about
me, I’d be sunk. But it’s not “my” light. It’s the light of Christ, or
the light of Spirit – Paul says they are the same thing actually.
This is where our egos
get all caught up. We’ve been told that it’s Christian to be modest
and humble. We’ve learned to associate humility with low wattage. But
if it’s really not about us – if we really get that it’s about Spirit
shining through the person we call “me” – then humility means getting
out of the way of the radiant Spirit. Like that saying goes – who am I
to not let the light shine. And that’s frightening. And the
reason it’s frightening is that when my ego tries to convince me that
it is about me, then I start thinking things like “I’m not
smart enough, I’ll blow it, I’ll be criticized...yada yada yada.” You
know the voice. And then the still, small voice of Christ whispers,
“get over yourself” – let it flow.
That’s why at CMUC we’re
going with Paul’s take on the matter. Each of you is a center of
divine radiance. You are called to go from one degree of glory to
another – the Spirit’s glory, Christ’s radiance. You see, I think
Jesus invites all of us up the mountain, not to build booths or any
other kind of monument to him or anybody else. I think he takes us up
there so that we can get a glimpse of the glory that shines out from
all of us. When you come to the table this morning, think of it as
going up the mountain with Christ. The same light that shines in
Christ shines still today through willing souls. |