February 19, 2023

"A Lamp Shining in a Dark Place"

2 Peter 1:16-21

 

I genuinely believe that God is present and tangible in our daily lives. I have experienced God's presence and the presence of the eternal in unexpected times and places. If we are attentive to such possibilities, we are more likely to notice them and can experience moments of profound connection with the Creator of all things. In Celtic spirituality, the term "Thin space" is used when speaking of the divide between the temporal and spiritual world. In such spaces, mystical, spiritual things can occur, and the division between the spiritual and temporal feels like a thin veil. In such experiences, our earthly lives collide with the spiritual, heavenly realm in life-transforming ways.

 

In light of the recent survey by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, nearly 50% of Americans report having mystical experiences: approximately 70% of evangelicals and African American Christians reported having mystical experiences. In comparison, about 40% of mainline Christians and Roman Catholics reported having "a religious or mystical experience—that is, a moment of religious or spiritual awakening." This same report noted that nearly one-third of Americans report encounters with deceased persons, and one-fifth have seen or felt the presence of ghosts. (Pew Center Report, December 9, 2011) Television shows such as "Ghost Adventures" and "Haunted Scotland" try to validate such experiences.

 

Yet we may often find ourselves discounting these experiences, writing them off as nothing more than irrational imagination gone wild. Those visions and strange experiences of the eternal, those dreams that seem so real and full of meaning, are due to nothing more than too much spicy food before bedtime. Or perhaps they are just creations of our mind, and there is no spiritual realm in the first place. We run to the rational rather than embracing the mystery. Today's passage encourages us to do otherwise, to hold on to such moments as "lamps shining in the darkness" in Peter's own words- moments of profound faith which help us later in times of struggle, doubt, and worry.

 

Scripture is full of such mystical encounters: Abraham and Sarah's encounters with God; Jacob's dream of a ladder of angels and his nocturnal wrestling match; Moses' dialogue with the burning bush; Gabriel's visit to Mary; Paul's Damascus Road experience with Jesus; Peter's dream of forbidden food; and Jesus' healing ministry, resurrection, and post-resurrection encounters with his followers. These scripture instances are examples of those thin spaces between the temporal and the spiritual.

 

 

Peter's experience of the Transfiguration of Jesus was one such experience. In today's passage, he recounted it for his followers who were going through a time of questioning and doubt. Most scholars date Peter's death on an upside-down cross around 65 A.D. This letter may've been written just before his death or could have been compiled by one of his followers long after. In either case, those early Christians faced persecution from Roman emperors and even from family members. Furthermore, there were "False prophets and false teachers" mentioned in this letter- There were those who scoffed at the identity of Jesus as the son of God and as one who would one-day return- since more than 30 years had passed since he had died and ascended.

 

Amid such skeptical times, Peter recounted this foundational experience of his faith. Witnessing Christ's transfiguration as a "lamp shining in a dark place," as an example of God's work in the world, was an encouragement for the faithful to hold on to as an experience of faith. Peter retold the experience when he, James, and John were woken up early in the morning and invited by Jesus to hike up a high mountain, most likely Mt Tabor. As they reached the top, Jesus was suddenly changed- his face began to shine, and his clothing became dazzling white. Then upon this mountain, Peter saw two pillars of the early faith-Moses and Elijah- symbolizing the law and the prophets, the first two divisions of the Hebrew Bible. Then Peter said to Jesus, "It is good that we are here." He called attention to being during this mystical experience, apart from the world below. He then suggested building three booths, one each for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. In the past, I have offered that Peter was so amazed and confused that at this moment, he blurted out something without thinking about what he was saying. Yet with further consideration, perhaps Peter was hoping to capture the moment in some way- building them booths or tents might make the moment last longer and commemorate the location of this "thin veil" event. There are many places throughout the world where monuments to faith have been built upon ground where sacred things happened. Peter wanted to do the same thing, to commemorate his experience by making these three booths.

 

Then a cloud, a symbol throughout scripture of the presence of God, covered the mountain peak, and Peter and the others heard a commanding voice- proclaiming that Jesus is the Son of God, God's beloved, and that the disciples were to listen to him. Peter and the others fell to the ground out of fear and closed their eyes. Next thing they knew, Jesus touched them on their shoulders, told them to get up and not be afraid, and to go back down the mountain with him. He then instructed the three not to tell of this experience until after his resurrection.

 

What does this mystical encounter mean for us as we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday, which we sang about in the opening hymn? It can mean many things. First, it means that God uses this experience to proclaim to the disciples that Jesus is the Son of God. This message is declared for us in several ways throughout scripture and is one we should dwell upon today. What does the term "Son of God" mean for us? How does it affect our lives and our faith?

 

The experience of the three disciples and their vision of Moses, Elijah, and Jesus also encourages us to get away for spiritual retreats. Yet time for quiet, withdrawal, and space with God is difficult for us. We live in a world that competes every waking moment for our attention. With social networks like Facebook and cell phones with phone calls, text messaging, and email, we are living in a time that almost demands that we stay obsessively connected and involved in each other's lives. There is little time for solitude, prayer, and retreat from the reach of technology. We (and when I say "we," I also mean me!) are expected to be wired into the "net" and instantly available. We fret over missing emails, falling behind on updating our Facebook pages, or responding to texts that seem to come unbidden day and night. We are never completely "off duty." In such a lifestyle, it is difficult to notice those moments of transformation available to us as God breaks through trying to get our attention. If we allow for such mystical moments, we can find an anchor that secures us in faith and hope in times of struggle and doubt. Having such experiences enables us to live a life directed and encouraged by faith instead of living a life pulled in one direction or another. By the way, our sanctuary and chapel are available during the week. Call the office, and we’ll open the doors so you can have quiet contemplation.

 

I want to suggest to you that our lives need time of quiet, time of retreat, time away from the business, the routine, and the computer screen so that we can be spiritually nourished. We live surrounded by some of the most mystical, profound experiences of creation- mountains. Perhaps we, like Peter, James, and John, can find one of those thin spaces between heaven and earth by going on a hike and finding a peak upon which to sit. Yet hiking may not even be necessary. Coming to the Ash Wednesday service this Wednesday evening and receiving the cross of ash upon our foreheads can also be such an experience. When we allow those moments of mystical transformation, we see the world and our lives differently. 19th-century German theologian Albert Schweitzer said, "Any profound view of the world is mysticism, in that it brings us into a spiritual relation with the Infinite."

 

Peter's recounting his story also means we should pay attention to and hold onto those "thin places" moments between heaven and earth. They can be, for us, a lamp shining in a dark place, as the transfiguration was for Peter and his followers. Such experiences can be touchstones of faith to help us in times of doubt and struggle. We can have an ultimate reference point for faith in such experiences, which leads us back to trust and hope, especially during chaotic and uncertain times.

 

 

I am thankful I have had many profound moments that have brought me into a spiritual relationship with the Infinite God. I especially try to remember them when my faith seems dark and cold, and God feels distant. For example-

 

In this very sanctuary, one Sunday after the 10 am service was over and after fellowship, I remembered that I needed to unplug my guitar from the amp chord or the battery in my guitar would have died. I walked into a dark and quiet sanctuary around 11:45 and stopped in my tracks. For reasons I cannot explain, I was quite sure I felt the holy presence of God. I muttered out loud, "Oh! You are here, aren't you?" Everything felt divine, mystical, and profound in that "thin space" moment. I walked slowly to my guitar, unplugged it, basked in the presence of God for a bit, and came back outside.

 

My rational mind tried to explain it all away. The lighting made it feel that way, or perhaps the wind blew on the roof, and it sounded like someone was there. Or I considered that I had put a lot of energy into the service and was just feeling a bit light-headed. Yet, after my brain stopped chattering about trying to explain it all rationally, I stood there outside the sanctuary door, breathed deep, and gave thanks for that fleeting moment, for that experience of the Holy.

 

Many years ago, I was performing a graveside service for a long-time church member who had died at 106 years of age. As I stood over the grave with my prayerbook open, suddenly, out of the corner of my left eye, I could see someone standing next to me who had not been there before. They looked a bit like a dark fog, but I felt their presence. I was a bit stunned at first, for I hadn't seen anything like that before. After stammering initially with the prayer, I collected myself and figured that the presence was there to pay their respects to the deceased. Towards the end of the prayer, as I was reading, the spirit faded out. Later I asked a couple of the family members if they saw or felt anything during the service. They all said no.

 

That moment in the sanctuary a few years ago, as well as the graveside service at my last call, as well as many other thin space experiences, have become for me lamps shining in dark places, times to look back upon as my own moments of transfiguration and transformation. And as I have remembered them, the morning star of Jesus Christ has risen in my heart, and I have found light and hope in times of struggle and doubt. God may break in at any moment in our lives, offering us such lamps shining in the darkness. We can either make space for them, pay attention to them, or sadly discount them. But if we see this world through the eyes of faith, such experiences can become a constant source of hope for us. As 19th-century English poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning affirms:

 

Earth's crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God,

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round and pick blackberries.

 

Don't focus on the blackberries! May we keep our eyes and minds open to those thin moments between the eternal and the temporal so that we, like Peter, may be led by faith in times of doubt, sorrow, and hopelessness with lamps shining in the shadows. Alleluia! Amen.