A Sermon by John Brierly McCall, D. Min.
March 6, 2011
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We remember the life and witness of the Rev. Dr. Peter Gomes, Minister of Memorial Church at Harvard University who died Monday at the age of 68. He described himself as “the only gay, black, Republican, Baptist preacher most people would ever meet.” He was a faithful voice against intolerance and biblical literalism, whose many books included “The Scandalous Gospel of Jesus – What’s so good about the Good News?”
He was an inspiration to many and I hope I can channel a bit of his wisdom.
Matthew 17:1-9
2 Peter 1:16-21
The seasons are changing. Today is the last Sunday of the season of Epiphany. Epiphany begins every year on January 6 – the twelfth day of Christmas. But the length of the season varies depending on when Easter falls – and therefore when Ash Wednesday comes. This year Easter is April 24, one day short of the latest date possible. So this year’s Epiphany season is just one day short of the longest possible.
Another hallmark of this season is that Red’s opened on Friday – more exciting than ever this year. And today’s precipitation is rain rather than snow – a pleasant reminder that spring will come. The ice gets thinner this time of year as winter loses its grip. Down at Millcreek Park we’ll soon see the sign: “Warning – Thin Ice!” We know just what that means. When the ice is thick it can hold our weight and when it’s thin we’re taking a high risk when we step away from shore.
On this last Sunday before Lent, called “Transfiguration Sunday,” I realize I may be stepping onto thin ice. Some of you may join me; others will be much more comfortable standing on the shore where you feel your footing is more secure. Either way is OK. We are a congregation that gives permission to each of us to wrestle and struggle, never assuming we’ll all agree on matters of faith.
News flash: I’ve never been a biblical literalist. I’ve never believed the Bible was dictated by God and simply recorded by human scribes. I’ve never thought of scripture as “fact” but always as a story of the human encounter with the Holy One; about God’s faithfulness and our reluctance to keep the covenants.
So when I read the Bible I believe I’m reading the record of how people have tried to express the truth and reality of what God has done. Like us, those ancient authors worked within the constraints of language. They too found that we the creatures can’t capture the totality of God, the Creator, in our words. Words fail us, but that’s our primary vehicle.
Some of scripture is an historical account of actual events. Some of it is poetic retelling of actual events. Some scripture appears to be scientific – to give concrete, specific and established explanations of how the world works. Of course, some of scriptural science we know isn’t true. For example, a biblical literalist may deny evolution, and believe God and Moses really parted the Red Sea. But I’ve never heard any accept the Bible’s claim that the sun rotates around the earth. We all edit what we read as we go along and decide how to fit the testimony of scripture together with our understanding of God’s world.
Honestly, I don’t think Jesus was a biblical literalist either. I think he was much more a poet than he was a newspaper reporter. He read the sacred texts of Judaism and he knew them intimately. He was a rabbi and was trained in the skills of theology and scripture. Even so, he often said “you have seen it written… yet I tell you…” He reframed the sacred texts to open them up and help them to breathe so they could live in human hearts and transform the lives of his listeners.
So, I believe our Bible, like all holy writings, is like a book shelf filled with history, science, poetry, visions, metaphors, similes… and myth. Now I bet most of you were with me until I dropped that last word, “myth.” That word is different from the others because we’ve been told that myth means lie; that a myth is fabricated to state something that isn’t true.
I hope we can let go of that assumption. I like what Frederick Buechner says about myth in his book Wishful Thinking:
The raw material of a myth, like the raw material of a dream, may be something that actually happened once. But myths, like dreams, do not tell us much about that kind of actuality. The creation of Man, Adam and Eve, the Tower of Babel, Oedipus – they do not tell us primarily about events. They tell us about ourselves. In popular usage, a myth has come to mean a story that is not true. Historically speaking that may well be so. Humanly speaking, a myth is a story that is always true. {pg. 65}
A myth, he says, is a human story that’s always true. Sometimes it’s a window; more often it’s a mirror that shows us ourselves. If we can’t (in good conscience) take everything in the Bible as literal, factual, scientific truth, then we must acknowledge that its purpose isn’t to tell us how things happened as they have, but why things happened as they have and what the consequences are.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden doesn’t really tell us how God created humankind, but why we hold such a premier position, yet feel alienation and separation from the One who’s made us. The story of the Tower of Babel doesn’t tell us how our languages got confounded, but tells us why we have so much difficulty understanding God and each other.
Turning to today’s Gospel lesson, then how do we approach this mysterious account of Jesus on the mountain of transfiguration? I read one interpreter who framed the dilemma particularly well. Dr. Douglas Hare writes:
Whether we reject the story as a product of pious imagination, or by the willing suspension of disbelief, accept all its details as historical, the story points us to a mystery, a mystery beyond the reach of historical reconstruction or scientific verification. [Douglas R. A. Hare, in Interpretation – Matthew, pg. 198; John Knox Press, Louisville]
Whatever sense we draw from today’s story, we all must confess that we stand face to face with mystery that we can’t unravel. We can only suppose what was going on, and add this story to so many others that together point us toward what God is doing. In light of our faith, this story belongs to the church – to the whole community of Christians in every age, affirming that God was in Christ, and that the historical Jesus of Nazareth was Messiah – the Anointed One whom prophets had foretold.
This mountain-top experience in Matthew 17 and its parallels bears a striking similarity to the account of Jesus’ baptism in Matthew 3, where the spirit of God descended like a dove and a voice proclaimed “This is my son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
Together these two accounts are like bookends that frame Jesus’ earthly ministry of preaching, teaching and healing, and now point us toward the most profound expression of love as he turned his face toward Jerusalem.
In this act of loving self-sacrifice Jesus snatched victory from the grasp of all the forces of hate and fear and abusive power, and showed us all that God’s incarnation saves the world through grace. However you characterize this story, it is timeless and true.
Whether it’s historically and factually true we don’t know. Your heart of faith may say “yes,” while mine says “no.” That’s OK. I suggest that we leave to God the matters that are God’s. Rather than debate whether scripture is true in fact or true in faith let’s put our energy into living the truth that Jesus the Christ was filled to overflowing with the power, love, and grace of God.
And together let’s attest and affirm that our deepest desire is to live our lives as a reflection of his.