A United Methodist Pastor's Theological Reflections

"But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory (nikos) through our Lord Jesus Christ." - I Corinthians 15:57


Monday, February 24, 2014

Sermon (March 2) by Rev. Robert McDowell - "Bright Light Stories"

     
    
     Our Gospel lesson from Matthew tells us about an extraordinary event that some of Jesus’ disciples were able to experience. While Jesus and three of his disciples were on the mountain, a bright cloud covered them. Jesus was transfigured so that his face shone like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white.
     Moses, representing the law tradition, and Elijah, representing the prophetic tradition, appeared with Jesus. Then the disciples heard God’s voice tell them that Jesus was his beloved Son and that they should listen to him. The disciples were extremely frightened and fell on the ground. Jesus walked toward them, touched them, and told them to get up and not to be afraid.
     What do we make of a story like this? Do we find stories like this difficult to believe? Evidently, Peter, James, and John were caught off guard by it. It actually frightened them.
     This story of the transfiguration of Jesus raises the question about miracles. Do miracles like this really happen or was that just something that people in bible times believed?
     This past summer, you might have seen several billboards of a local church that invited people to their summer sermon series on the topic of miracles. The word, “miracle,” gets our attention.
     What do we make of miracles living in our post-modern 21st century world? What do they mean for us today?
     In his book, Simply Christian: Why Christianity Makes Sense,” former Anglican Bishop, NT Wright offers a very helpful story to help us think about the place of miracles in our own day and age. He writes, “There was once a powerful dictator who ruled his country with an iron will. Every aspect of life was thought through and worked out according to a rational system. Nothing was left to chance.
     The dictator noticed that the water sources around the country were erratic and in some cases dangerous. There were thousands of springs of water, often in the middle of towns and cities. They could be useful, but sometimes they caused floods, sometimes they got polluted, and often they burst out in new places and damaged roads, fields, and houses.

     The dictator decided on a sensible, rational policy. The whole country, or at least every part where there was any suggestion of water, would be paved over with concrete so thick that no spring of waver could ever penetrate it.
     The water that people needed would be brought to them by a complex system of pipes. Furthermore, the dictator decided, he would use the opportunity, while he was at it, to put into the water various chemicals that would make the people healthy. With the dictator controlling the supply, everyone would have what he decided they needed, and there wouldn’t be any more nuisance from unregulated springs.
     For many years the plan worked just fine. People got used to their water coming from the new system. It sometimes tasted a bit strange, and from time to time they would look back wistfully to the bubbling streams and fresh springs they used to enjoy.
     Some of the problems that people had formerly blamed on unregulated water hadn’t gone away. It turned out that the air was just polluted as the water had sometimes been, but the dictator wouldn’t, or didn’t, do much about that. But mostly the new system seemed efficient. People praised the dictator for his forward looking wisdom.
     A generation passed. All seemed to be well. Then, without warning, the springs that had gone on bubbling and sparkling beneath the solid concrete could no longer be contained. In a sudden explosion – a cross between a volcano and an earthquake – they burst through the concrete that people had come to take for granted.
     Muddy, dirty water shot into the air and rushed through the streets and into houses, shops, and factories. Roads were torn up; whole cities were in chaos. Some people were delighted: at last they could get water again without depending on The System. But the people who ran the official water pipes were at a loss: suddenly everyone had more than enough water, but it wasn’t pure and couldn’t be controlled.”
     NT Wright goes on to say that we in the Western world are the citizens of that country. The dictator is the philosophy that has shaped our world for the past two or more centuries, making most people materialists by default. And the water is what we today call “spirituality,” the hidden spring that bubbles up within human hearts and human societies.
     Even in our hyper scientific modern world, walk into any bookstore, and count the number of book shelves that contain books on spirituality. Evidently the waters of spirituality cannot be contained underneath the rock hard pavement of secularism. People know deep down that there is a mystery at work in the world, a mystery that leaves us speechless when heaven intersects our ordinary lives.
     We have heard people share bright light stories of how they had near death experiences in which they saw a bright light which brought them great comfort and peace and then they came back to life. Or maybe there are other dramatic and powerful stories that you have heard that defy explanation.
     While those once in a lifetime stories can be very meaningful, there are other bright light stories that happen to us all of the time in big and small ways. They happen to us in the course of our day to day activities and they remind us of that bubbling spring of water that runs through all of life.
     The Celtic Christians had a name for these moments when heaven and earth intersected in our day to day living. They referred to them as thin places. I like to refer to them as sacramental moments, those times when the sacred overlaps our time and space in beautiful and meaningful ways.
     Where do you see God at work in your day to day living? What are those sacramental moments where God has been made present in a very real way for you?

     Last June, while I was attending our West Ohio Annual Conference up at Lakeside, along Lake Erie, I was able to spend the day with a friend of mine who is a retired United Methodist pastor. I served as his associate pastor several years ago and he has been a spiritual mentor for me over these many years.
     It was the first time in five years that he was able to attend Annual Conference due to his failing health. A friend in his church drove him up from Columbus just for the day. His Leukemia has been taking a toll on him and he now walks with a cane.
     I told him that I would buy him an ice cream cone and take him to the pier of the Lake since it was a beautiful day. He walked very slowly, but we finally made it to the pier and we sat on a bench overlooking Lake Erie and taking in the sunshine and the slight cool breeze.
     As we were reminiscing and catching up with each other, a friend of mine who serves a church in the Dayton area walked by us. I invited Brian to join us and introduced him to my friend.
     Brian asked my friend how long he had been a member of the West Ohio Conference. And my friend said, “It’s interesting you should ask me that question because this year is my 60th anniversary of being a member of the West Ohio Conference.”
     He then asked him how he came to our conference since my friend had shared with him that he had been raised in Philadelphia.  And my friend told him that while he was at Union Seminary in New York, a clergy representative from our conference had traveled to his seminary to recruit students to come and serve in West Ohio.
     And when he shared the name of the pastor who recruited him, Brian said, “That was my grandfather.” My friend then went on to tell Brian what a great person his grandfather was and that if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have come to this conference.
     As I listened to this conversation, I realized that this was one of those bright light moments. This was a sacramental and holy time for all three of us; for my friend because he got to meet the grandson of a dear friend of his, for Brian because he got to hear what a wonderful man his grandfather was, and for me, because my time with my friend that day couldn’t have been scripted any better.
     God works in mysterious ways. There are transfiguration stories like this all around us. And like the disciples, we are reminded that heaven is a lot closer than we may think.
     A couple of years ago, I officiated at the funeral of a young boy who died from cancer. A few months following the funeral, I needed to make some visits at the hospital. For some reason, instead of going my typical route, I went a different way to the hospital.
     This route took me by the apartment of where this little boy used to live. As I was driving by, I noticed that his grandmother was sitting on the front steps of the house, and so I decided to pull over and see how she had been doing.
     This grandmother was so glad to see me. With tears in her eyes, she said that a little later that morning, she would be going to the cemetery to watch them place the headstone for her grandson’s grave.
     Together, we shared a few stories about her grandson, how he had a great sense of humor and how he showed so much faith in facing his death. We laughed and we cried as we sat together on those front steps of her apartment.
     And then the strangest thing happened that I will never forget. As this grandmother was sharing a story with me, a butterfly landed on her arm. We both became silent and then we looked at each other in disbelief.
     Before this little boy had died, he told us that God would send us butterflies to let us know that he was with God and that everything was all right. After a few moments of silence, we looked at each other and started laughing. And then we prayed together, right there on those front steps, thanking God for sending us that butterfly at just the right moment.
     I don’t know what you make of stories like this. All I know is that it felt like one of those thin places where heaven and earth overlapped in a very mysterious way. It was a holy moment that I will never forget.


     The church believes that the Sacrament of Holy Communion is one of those bright light moments when we encounter the presence of the Risen Christ in the here and now. When we receive the bread and the cup, we are reminded that the bubbling stream of God’s presence has been under our feet all along. There is no pavement that can contain it. It springs up when we least expect it.
     These bright light moments can happen at any time.

     

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