I’ve gotta admit it: I’ve never understood this text/story/event. I guess I can understand its significance within each of the gospel accounts within some historical/literary context. (Or at least I could write that paper and pass the course!) But, I have not easily understood “gospel” in this story. It’s one of those texts that makes me question the wisdom of breaking up the scriptural books into little pieces in order to find something profound in each one of them.
I don’t find it particularly helpful, except when I’m sitting at this desk, to argue about what the the “event” of the Transfiguration might have been, or if it actually was, or even what it meant to and for Jesus as the Christ. I suppose I can do that, but I’m not sure what good it does. As “academic” as I like to keep my belief system (!), I’m more likely to read less historical/literary background on this one than I am to read just plain “reflections” which are more loosely based on the text. I am positive that the true exegetes among us (not to mention the one within me!) are appalled, but I have a difficult time making the jump between any sort of exegetical analysis of this text in ANY terms, to anything that matters much. (Of course, I’d never say that in church!!!) That certainly doesn’t mean that it’s “not there,” or that other people haven’t done it very well on their own terms, for their own faith and life and that of their communities and the world. It just means that I can’t get that to work with this text, despite the fact that God sees fit to give me all sorts of wisdom when I use my impeccable exegetical and hermeneutical method with other texts!
That said, I’ve been appreciating reading sermons and articles this week which are less ‘historically’ based, and more reflective – loosely based on the text. Sr. Joan Chittister has a couple of articles/sermons on the internet that I’ve found very useful for my own reflections in terms of this gospel text. The Transfiguration text is read on 2 Lent in the Roman Catholic Church. (It’s interesting to think about how it reads differently there than at the end of Epiphany. I’m not sure that the story doesn’t make a whole lot more sense to me there!) I’ve appreciated Chittister’s “Transfiguration Story: To Take Holiness, Insights into the Groaning Cities – Meditation on the Second Sunday In Lent,” from National Catholic Reporter, March of 2001:
“There is a tension in religion today that swirls around the struggle for authenticity. Is adherence to doctrinal purity the true mark of the committed Christian? Or is it deference to hierarchy? Or does authenticity lie in being citizen Christians whose intention to maintain the Christian world lies in fashioning into law and public structures the theology of one denomination or another: Enshrining the Ten Commandments in every courtroom, for instance, in a pluralistic society; maintaining a common Sabbath and a common religious calendar of holidays. Or does real spirituality lie in withdrawal from the fray into some kind of pious Nirvana where the cares of the day and the questions of the time touch us not?
“The answer, I think, lies in our own story, this one from a scripture that is often translated as a glimpse of glow or a case for contemplative withdrawal from the chaos around us but which, I believe, is really an insight into the spirituality of courage. It is a call for the kind of involvement that changes things. It is a commitment to work miracles for the poor and marginalized rather than maintain them in the name of tradition and authority and good order…
“The call of the spiritual life is the call to take all the insights into the life of Christ that we have ever been able to gather and to go alone back down our private little mountains to the grasping, groaning world of our own time.
“It is one thing to be devout. It's relatively easy, in fact, to enclose ourselves in a cocoon of pious practices. It is another thing entirely to live a life worthy of a follower of Jesus, the prophet.
“If the question of the Second Sunday of Lent is "What must we do to be truly holy," the call to Christianity in this second Sunday of Lent is surely the call to be aware of the root causes of suffering in this world and to have the courage to work a few miracles of our own.”
No matter how loosely tied to the text it might be, I really resonate with Chittister’s call to re-examine our own “holiness,” not only in terms we currently understand, but in terms which might be quite different from those that give us religious, political, moral, and/or cultural “rewards.” It’s relatively easy for me to accomplish this critique in terms of “traditional religion” or “political interpretations of religion,” no matter how those things are understood, because those things are, truthfully, not that difficult for me to deconstruct. But, it’s a lot more difficult to critique the less-useful aspects my OWN improper pieties – whatever they might be – outside the walls of the church, in my everyday life. To me, those things always seem like “proper holiness,” given by God and supported by the community for the good of all. And I’m able to support my rationalizations and behaviors quite nicely, thank you, in terms of those personal pieties, which are very difficult for me to see at all, let alone to examine.
Also very interesting reading for me this week has been the sermon “The Role of Religion in Today’s Society,” again by Sr. Joan Chittister.
“The purpose of holiness is not to protect us from our world. The purpose of holiness is to change the way we live in the world, not for our own sake but for the sake of others. Jesus demands the same thing. For some reason or other, we often miss that point. We are more inclined to want a religion that comforts us than challenges us. Why? Where did we ever get that idea? ...
“What is the role of religion in society, private refuge or public presence? Transfiguration means that the role of religion demands enlightenment. The role of religion is to bring us to an awareness of life. The role of religion is to transform the world, to come to see the world as God sees the world and to bring it as close to the vision of God as we possibly can. Why? Scripture is very clear. What God changes, God changes through us.”
What does the light from the Transfiguration expose to me about my own life, my own piety, my own carefully-ordered “faith” within a world that is struggling (and, frankly, within a “self” that is struggling)? What might it mean to have faith through Christ – in God alone - even in terms of our own personal and community holiness, whatever that might be? How do we live “in Christ” as we look at our own lives and the world as we head into Lent? What does that really MEAN, beyond our rhetoric?