Pentecost +12

Ex 1.8-2.10, Rom 12.1-8. Mt 16.13-20

In Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare addresses the attachment that we place on names. Names, for the Montagues and Capulets, are not merely a word. It’s a family, it’s a connection, it’s a history – and, until those star-crossed lovers change things, these names are also meant to be a future.

What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other word would smell as sweet;

Well, not exactly, loverboy!

Imagine if we saw a beautiful rose and called it “garbage” – less appealing now, isn’t it? Our minds attach different experiences and smells and memories to different words.

So – sorry Romeo – but while the idea is great, the reality is that names matter.

And this is nothing new. It wasn’t new for Shakespeare, either.

For eons, we have attached meaning to our names.

Let’s consider this first naming of Moses – note that it’s not his birth mother that names him, but Pharaoh’s daughter who ends up adopting him. Moses – or Moshe – is an adaptation of a verb that means to pull something out, or to draw something.

Not surprising then, that the babe who is drawn out of the water to be given that name. But there’s more to it, isn’t there? Because we know more about Moses. He drew out the Israelites from slavery in the land of Egypt. He drew out the best of people in sharing God’s revelation of the Ten Commandments. He drew out a long history of faith tradition from a people in the midst of a mass  crisis of faith.

Moses. He drew out faithfulness; in his time and well into the future.

          Let’s consider next the naming of Peter. When Jesus changes his name, he is not merely choosing a nickname for his friend. This isn’t a casual happenstance; this is a big deal.

Because Simon, before being a Jesus follower, has a life, and a career, and a reputation on his name. He is Simon! Honest fisherman, family man, friend, community supporter.

And Jesus says: nope. Now you’re Peter!

That’s powerful, to take someone’s name away from them, to suggest that their identity ought to be changed. It’s so powerful, in fact, that really only God can (or should) do it. It’s not a human decision to change someone else’s name.

But Jesus, having just been declared as the Messiah BY this man, says YOU ARE PETER.

Again – there’s much more to it than the 5 little letters.

The word Peter, as we know, means rock. A strong basis. A foundation.

By naming him thus, Jesus is changing his life. He is giving him a new opportunity, and a new responsibility. Because Jesus is not suggesting that a building be erected in a certain location with physical keys when he says “on this rock I build my church” – no, it all starts with Peter. YOU, Jesus says, my friend Simon, you will be the foundation and beginning of a whole new thing. You will provide the basis for a gathering of people who will devote their lives to loving God, and showing that love by loving one another. You start this: your future will be to set the tone for all churches for all time. If you forget the laws or let them loose here, they will be forever lost. If you keep and teach my commandments, they will be forever known. It’s up to you Simon – Simon the Rock, Simon Peter.

And let’s think for a moment about the keys to the kingdom – what do we use keys for? Locking the doors, right? Keeping people barricaded in and out. So the keys to the kingdom would be for the person who will decide who gets to enter and exit, right? Well – no. Not at all, actually. That’s not what Jesus means when he ‘hands over the keys of the kingdom’ to Peter. These are not physical keys to a magical location. Rather, think about this as a focal point, a main idea. The key point to this sermon is about the importance of names. The keys to the kingdom are love and peace and justice in community. These are the keys that Jesus hands to Simon Peter.

Take these, he says, know them, share them, act accordingly. May everything you do from this point reflect that you are the foundation of a community of worship.

Well now. That’s a lot of meaning to one name, isn’t it. Cephas – Peter – the rock on which the church of God rests. His entire life is now to be dedicated to being the strongest and firmest and most faithful Peter that he can be.

          Now, at the end of the passage Jesus seems to be suggesting that the reality of being part of the family should be kept quiet – he does tell his disciples not to tell anyone who he is.

Well, sort of. He instructs them not to tell them that he is the Messiah. Again, a powerful word – a name that carries meaning beyond our imagination. The Son of the Living God. The very real, very tangible presence of the Creator of all time and space – here in front of us!

Had word gotten out, people may have flocked to him merely because he was a celebrity. People may have prevented him from doing his ministry. People may have entirely missed the message and the teaching, because of a name.

And so they are asked to keep the name – the reality – to themselves for a time.

I think this partly reflects Jesus’ respect for tradition, and for the faith. The name of God is powerful, it is life changing, it is profound. It was so revered in biblical times that no one would dare try and say it, nor try to contain it. Even the letters G-O-D were minimised – to this day many Jews, and Christians, will write the letter with a dash in place of the O, lest it be construed as an attempt to make the name of God normal or commonplace or casual.

The name of God embraces the mystery of God. And the mystery is so extreme that it astonishes all. It’s no wonder that Jesus wants that reality kept quiet for a time (not forever, please note – just for a time.) He wanted people to learn who he was by his actions, not by a name. He invited people to dwell in the delight of his truth, even when it was not what others might expect of him.

And let’s consider also the start of that conversation – I love it when Jesus asks a question, it encourages thought and reflection that are timeless and meant for all hearers and readers to ponder.

Who do others say that Jesus is? It’s a name that’s been making a few more headlines lately in the political reporting, that’s for sure. So who do people say that Jesus is – and does that reflect the Jesus of the Gospels, the Jesus of the apostle’s teachings? Hmm. Much to ponder.

Closer to home, who do WE say that Jesus is? Does our speaking of Jesus reflect the Gospel truth? Are our actions influenced by this reality? Again, much to ponder.

And let’s take this one step further.

Imagine if we asked the same questions, of ourselves.

Who do other people say that WE are – as individuals, as families, as communities? There’s lots of roles that we play: sibling, parent, teacher, friend, neighbour, customer, etc. We have different relationships with different people, and share different characteristics with different groups. But we’re all part of the same body, as Paul shared. Do we live our lives in such a way that people know us – in whatever capacity – as Christians? Hmm.

And extrapolating that, who do we say we are ourselves? How do we show the world who we are? Because we are children of God. We are named and claimed as God’s family in our baptism: the service of holy baptism starts with the family and sponsors intentionally naming the person to receive the sacrament. It’s relationship, and we renew that baptismal relationship every time we worship. Ideally, we demonstrate that relationship in every interaction we have. So our challenge is to consider if our actions and intentions that we show the world align with our witness as beloved children of God.

It’s a challenge, an opportunity, and a privilege. Every day, every moment, we are invited to know that we are part of the continual and continuous building of God’s kingdom. Upon us the kingdom is built. So consider your name. You - *enter your name here* - have had your name spoken aloud in heaven. YOU are named as foundational in the church of God. You are named as beloved. You are named as important. You are named in the mystery that transcends.

Sermon, Pentecost +11

Matthew 15.10-28

We all know that part of what it means to be a Christian is that God wants for us to be in community. Christianity is not an isolated circumstance: we're in this together - no matter how different we might think we are when we start.

And that is a common theme throughout scriptures: it's a common theme in today’s scriptures. And the scriptures today give us another truth... no one said community was going to be easy.

In today's passage from Genesis, Joseph is revealing to his brothers who he is - he won't deny it any longer; and he wants for them to all be reunited and live as neighbours. But that will mean living right next door to the people who – moments earlier – wanted to kill them, and openly discriminated against them. And the feeling was mutual. These previously feuding tribes will need to sort out a new way to come together.

In the epistle, too, we hear from the start that Paul is different. He's not one of them. BUT, he says, they're still all people of God, beloved of God, worshiping God, receiving mercy of God. That's the glue that holds them all together, when they're looking for reasons to be different and separated and segregated.

Then the Gospel. Right before this passage, we have some Pharisees - known for being exclusionary, looking for any reason to remind someone that they're not good enough, that they don't belong. They’ve just insulted Jesus about his table manners, indicating that he's not good enough for their community, and that he's not good enough for God.

Ouch. But Jesus, with a stronger message, calls together the crowd - unlike the past few chapters where he sends crowds away and goes away to pray, he wants people to hear what he has to say this time, so he invites everyone - indiscriminately - to listen. Using the food analogy, he reminds us that what is of this realm will stay in this realm - we eat is going to literally go right through us. Earthly things do not defile us, but what we say, how we justify our actions, CAN defile us.

Sadly the message of "we're good enough and you're not" echoes through our culture. But we know that this message is not from the kingdom. The message that earthly divisions: skin colours or genders of socioeconomic status or any other arbitrary division – that those could make someone less worthy of God's love? That’s false.

And that's exactly the truth that Jesus wants the people to hear. Come together, he invites. Be community. Be stronger because of your differences. It may not be easy or popular, but it's what loving one another means. It's bold - but Jesus is bold like that.

From there we move on to a part of the bible that seems extraordinarily contradictory. It's a fascinating story, of a woman begging for help... for her daughter’s sake. The interaction between this outsider of a woman, and Jesus, and his disciples, is astonishing. Here Jesus seems to do exactly the opposite of what he's been instructing his disciples - and the crowds - to do. It's very odd.

         We see this horrible, soul-destroying interlude... first Jesus ignores the woman, then the disciples advise him to cast her aside, and Jesus – JESUS! responds that he wasn't sent to save people as unworthy as she. She gets aggressive and kneels before him - thereby forcing Jesus to either change paths around her or touch her (which would make him ritually unclean) - and she begs for help. This supplication is met with further insult, yet she persists in demanding even the tiniest scrap of help from Jesus - what he would throw away it's so small.

And so when we *finally* get Jesus' exclamation "GREAT IS YOUR FAITH!" it's like we can let out this huge sigh, the deep breath we didn't realise we were holding. THERE he is, we can say to ourselves. There's the Jesus we know.

It makes me wonder. I wonder why Jesus treated this woman this way, but I also wonder: why did the disciples do nothing? Have they not learned anything from following Jesus? He's taught them to love without judgement. To see if they will stand up against injustice. To see if they will practice what they preach.

And.... not so much. None of the disciples disagreed. Not one of them intervened on her behalf. No one tried to help her. No one showed her love and compassion and grace. It's as though Jesus was waiting for the disciples to do something, to say something, to defend this woman and show her that she is as worthy of grace and mercy and love as the rest of them. 

But that's the hard part... because the woman is the exact opposite of the type of community that the disciples would choose. They would want someone like themselves, within society's dictated norms, on their side of the cultural divide.

I think, by the end of the interaction, Jesus has determined that the disciples just don't get it. Not yet, anyway. And as this poor nameless woman - and her daughter - have suffered even more while he was waiting for the disciples to jump in, he responds as we have come to know him. It's not what the disciples, in their cultural complacency, expect: but it's enough to shake them out of their comfort zones and into active ministry, building community.

Jesus shows her his beautiful, perfect love.

"Woman, great is your faith." Her faith is great enough to stand up against injustice. To challenge structures that oppress. To risk her own well-being for the benefit of her daughter. To declare her worthiness to receive the crumbs of God’s grace that fall from the table. To seek God’s love as it stood right before her. To see beyond human barriers and barricades to a place where peace and justice prevail. To see love, in human form, and to continue towards that love despite opposition and rejection. Great is your faith indeed, you sassy, outspoken, persistent woman. Let it be done for you as you wish!

Jesus responds with such love and compassion because the woman has suffered enough – not only by her circumstance, but by his insult, and the disciples’ lack of action. "Let it be done for you as you wish," Jesus says, and the subtext is that he’ll try to teach the disciples another time. It's as though he's saying "You understand; they do not: I’ll not allow you to suffer this indignity any longer just because my followers are a little slow on the uptake today."

Jesus heals the woman’s daughter, rejecting all the earthly reasons and rationales why he shouldn't, because love wins, and we are all worthy of God's love. Jesus wants his disciples, from that time to this, to know that no matter what labels, actions, or personal history someone has, they are worthy of love, and compassion, and grace.

Jesus heals her daughter and commends her faith to remind us that we too, are worthy of love (even when we feel unloveable), of compassion (even when we’ve been told we’re not), and of grace – because at some point we all just want and hope, to receive the crumbs of grace falling from God’s table.

The Gospel challenges all of us to look at ourselves: sometimes we’re the Pharisees, harshly judging others; sometimes we’re the crowd hoping against hope to be found worthy of compassion. Sometimes we’re the disciples, trying our best to understand yet failing to respond to the most basic opportunity in front of us. Sometimes we’re the woman, unafraid to speak the uncomfortable truth, in faith. Sometimes we just want to be known and seen and loved; to be free from labels that divide and just be known as a child of God.

And thus we are called, to be community, to be the whole family of God. To love boldly, outrageously, ridiculously, faithfully. Love the way that you have received love – as a wondrous gift from God.

Sermon, Pentecost +10

Gen 37.1-4,12-28; Ps 105.1-6,16-22,45b; Rom 10.5-15; Mt 14.22-33

            Friends, I feel a need to start this morning with a response to the events in Charlottesville Virginia this weekend.

            The demonstration of racism is appalling. The hatred, intimidation, and outright violence of the self-described alt-right is entirely unacceptable and unChristian. It goes against the teachings of Jesus, it goes against our baptismal vows to strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving neighbour as self, and to persevere in resisting evil.

            Make no mistake, what is happening in these extreme circumstances is evil. It is hatemongering. It is not something we can merely ignore.

            And let us not deceive ourselves, sitting in our comfortable Canadian pews, into thinking that we are immune to this type of thinking and behaviour. There are folks here in St Catharines who have expressed support for these ideologies, and these actions.

            We are called, as Christians, to witness to good news of God in Jesus Christ, as proclaimed to us by the Gospel and by the generations of the faithful come before us. We are called to demonstrate love.

            That can be uncomfortable and difficult, but for the love of God it is necessary. There are countless people in Virginia and around the United States - and around the globe - actively denouncing this evil, praying, singing hymns, preaching the Gospel. They are putting their faith into action.

            May we hold them in our prayers, as they stare into the face of this evil. May we also pray for those with closed hearts, who believe that the hatred that they cling to is justified and righteous.

            And may we pray for ourselves: that we may have the strength to challenge views which oppose the Gospel of Christ, to stand up for the teachings of Jesus, to fully live the faith to which we confess.

          This hatemongering is the same unacceptable behavior that we hear about from Joseph’s brothers.

          The call to justice echos the call from Paul to the church of Rome, to stop their discrimination based on nothing more than place of worship or skin pigmentation. Paul speaks to us all today: “the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.“

            So. We're back listening to Matthew. Great passage we're familiar with, Jesus walks on water. Peter goes out and walks, doubts and sinks, is saved by Jesus, and boom we're all back in the same boat.

            So what else can we learn from this? We've known it all since Sunday school, right? Even folks without a church upbringing know this one. The message is clear, yes? There's a storm. Storms happen: literally, the boat gets knocked around. Figuratively: our lives aren't always easy, we can feel battered and adrift in the confusion of tumultuous times. (See above.) Jesus, however, is always near. And even when it seems to good to be true or too unlikely to be possible, Jesus is there. Good news. When Jesus calls us, like he did Peter, we too can do the seemingly impossible. When we doubt, we start to sink down, and could drown in the storm that life has given us. But - Jesus won't let that happen, when we return to him in faith, he saves us, brings us back to safety, and calms the storm. Again, good news. Truly, this is the son of God.

            Good stuff. Great stuff.

            And... there's more to it than that. There's MORE goodness in here, when we dig a little deeper, and consider other perspectives we may have previously overlooked.

            The passage starts with Jesus and his disciples needing to be away from the gathered crowds. This passage follows immediately after the feeding of the 5000, so I'd imagine the disciples are a bit tired from the workout of distributing, collecting, and carrying all that food. It's like our generous Community Sharing challenge writ large. And Jesus wants a little bit of time by himself, just to pray.

            This is good. What a wonderful reminder for us all to pray, to be intentional about connecting with God not just on Sunday mornings or at the start of a meal, but whenever our hearts tell us it's time for that conversation.

            And the disciples have gone off, into the boat. But, it was a dark and stormy night there in Galilee, so they are not having a good time of it. I'd imagine they're clinging to the sides, nervous and seasick, as the boat is entirely beyond their control. Also remember that this is in the days before life jackets. And if anyone's ever tried to swim in stormy water, you know it's very unpleasant. So they're trying to avoid that.

            Is it any wonder, then, that when they see a human form walking atop the stormy waves, that they are more terrified, and cry out in fear? I know I'd be in the same kind of panic. So after Jesus identifies himself to them all, what is there response?

            Well, we know what Peter did. He challenged Jesus to prove himself even further. "if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." A little cheeky, no? Rather brazen. And yet - who hasn't been there before? Who hasn't said to God "PROVE it, Holy One. Make the impossible happen for me." Maybe it's been a bargain with God (for the record, I advise that if you're going to do that, then prepare to be amazed. It may not work out the way you think you want, but it will turn out in such a way that in reflection you'll see the very hand of God directing every movement. I've been there. I've been awed.)

            So out he goes, walking on water, in a storm, towards the Son of God. When: crisis of faith. So distracted by the waves, the storm, that *splash* Peter's in the drink.

            Again - who hasn't been there? But rather than think about our moments of unbelief, let's think about what caused the unbelief. Let's consider what was happening that distracted us from focusing on, and moving towards, the source of all love and all life? For Peter, they are physical waves. For us, they are metaphorical waves. And a wave - well, it's temporary. It's passing. It doesn't have the ability, on it's own, to move stuff around very well - you need multiple waves and counter forces and some other really cool science stuff we remember from high school. (Let's pretend, for brevity of sermon, that we all remember high school physics.)

            But it's just a wave. What a great lesson for us to remember that waves will happen, but that if we want to stay on the course towards our saviour, we need to ignore those little ripples at our feet, and walk with confidence.

            So, Peter is in the water, asks Jesus for help, Jesus helps him. Of course he does. We know this part. But did any of us ever notice that when Jesus asks Peter why he doubted, Peter doesn't answer? Total silence. No reply. Is he ashamed? Confused? Uncertain? We don't know. But we can again put ourselves in Peter's sandals, and think about how we might respond when we're having our own faith crises. If Jesus were to ask us in those times, when he has just pulled us up from drowning, "Why did you doubt?" how would we respond? If it's not something we've spent time thinking about, perhaps today's Gospel is for you a subtle invitation to think about that - and to learn from the experience - and ideally to not doubt again.

            And now for the final point - they're all back in the boat, the wind ceases, and Jesus is worshiped. The other disciples - they never left the boat. Throughout all of this, they never left the boat. No one else tried to walk on water, no one else made any comment. They stayed the course, knowing that together they were safer. Knowing that their faith was going to be an asset throughout the storm. Knowing that community was important. And trusting that Jesus would not leave them afloat forever - which, of course, he does not.

            But Peter. How interesting. How human. How - well, selfish. At the first declaration by Jesus, he thinks only of what he wants, and is willing to leave his friends in danger so that his desire can be met. When he sinks, he asks for his personal safety, without considering the tumult his friends are still in, back in the boat.

            And Jesus is there. Jesus is there when Peter needs supernatural proof, and when the other disciples need to stay put. Jesus is there when Peter sinks, and when the other disciples are floating together. Jesus is there when the storm is raging, and when the calmness comes. And Jesus is there - for all the disciples - when Peter needs to return to the community. Fascinating the Jesus could have chosen to take Peter to the other side of the sea and let the boat catch up, but instead he oh-so-gently lets Peter know that he is not meant to be alone, but part of a community. And Jesus is there when the community comes together to confess their faith and worship him.

            What a wonderful lesson - for Peter, for the disciples - and for us.

            May we learn from the miracle of walking on water, that we are given the miracles of trust, of care, and of community. May we celebrate the calmness that Jesus brings to our lives, as we weather life's storms together. May we be thankful that scripture continually invites us to go deeper into even the most well-known stories, that we might learn new and exciting truths about just how amazing God's strength and love and grace is in our lives.

Transfiguration sermon 06 aug

            This morning we celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration! This is one of those days when Christ-followers in every place and every age sit back, reflect, and are amazed at what transpires. Because there is a LOT that is happening here, and I'm going to pose some questions I've been reflecting on this week as we journey through it.

            Right off the hop, this passage starts with a chance to question. If we were listening to a story being told, and it started like this, we'd probably interrupt for some clarification. "Now about 8 days after these sayings..." 

            WAIT. STOP. What sayings? What sayings are so important that they get mentioned immediately after they are shared? Obviously, the author wants us to pay attention, because it matters to this story.

            So we go back in Luke - and Jesus has just commissioned the 12, confused Herod, fed the 5000, received Peter's declaration that Jesus is the Messiah of God, and told them that he will die and be resurrected. Heavy stuff.

            And about 8 days later, Jesus takes 3 of his friends up a mountain to pray.

Peter, James, and John. The first three men that he called to be his disciples. The three men who were partners together as fishermen at Genesserat. The first three to cast aside all the trappings of this earthly life and commit their life to this man Jesus and his teachings.

            So these 4 friends head up a mountain, to pray. How wonderful, to get away from it all for a little bit. Take a break. A retreat of sorts. To pull away from the busyness of the marketplace, the political arena, the watchful eye of everyone else. Because Jesus had, at this point, drawn some attention to himself. He's a minor celebrity, stirring things up and challenging the status quo, so he's got people keeping an eye on him.  And really, who wouldn't like to just get away from it all for a bit, to connect with God?

            So up the mountain they go. (For anyone keeping track, we're now one sentence into the Gospel reading. Get comfy.)

            There they are, and Jesus is praying, and somewhere in this time, his closest friends see something ... different ... about him.

            His face looks different. How - we don't know. We just know it looks different.

            His clothes become dazzling white - quite a feat for folks who are walking through a dusty environment and have just climbed a mountain.

            I bet they were starting to wonder at this point if there was a change, or if it had been this way all along, and they had just been too close to Jesus to notice. Hmm. After all, we've all had those AH-HA! moments that shock us, right? The "How did I *miss* that before!" times - a plot twist in a movie reveals a previously hidden truth, a friend divulges a secret that makes us consider some of their actions in a new way - you get the idea.

            Then, suddenly, we've got some extra folks popping in. And these are people from the past. Not just some guys they grew up with and haven't seen in a while - but a LONG past. Moses - well he's been dead some 1500 years at this point. Elijah - he was swept up to heaven in his chariot some 800 years previous. Yet there they are.

            Obviously the biblical equivalent of superheroes or celebrities, because even though Peter and James and John have never before seen these two people, they know who they are. They are the stuff of teaching, of history, of the faith. They are the heroes of Israel, easily identified just by their appearance.

            Can you imagine how amazed the disciples are at this point, when they realise what is happening? They're exhausted as they wait on the mountaintop, yet they stay awake. And they are then rewarded by the gift of witnessing this cataclysmic event of divine reality. This is one of those moments that is literally life-changing for them. And, as we know from the rest of the scriptures, there are other times when they will NOT be able to stay awake while Jesus is praying. And we know that those times have less-excellent outcomes. Staying awake for Jesus is important.

            So a challenge for ourselves is to think to the last time you had a moment where you thought "My life will never be the same because of this one.special.sacred.second"? Hmm. Did you recognise God being with you at that moment? Because I think that's what happens with Peter - he's said his belief, his early creed with his mouth - you are the chosen one of God - and now he is seeing with his eyes the irrefutable proof of that.

            So of course he's excited, and wants this moment to last forever. Who wouldn't? And in his very humanness, his very earthlyness, he blurts out a very selfish and unrealistic request, without even knowing what he's saying. "It's good for us to be here! Let's build three dwellings - let's keep holding on to the very best of what has come before us, and keep it here forever!"

            Well. Who hasn't felt like that?

            And the divine response comes quickly. Poor Peter's still bubbling with this energy when a cloud comes, and BOOM. A voice from a cloud - a divine proclamation 0 is this the Metatron, the scribe and voice of God? The voice declares a truth and directive - it's almost an invictive - "this is my son, my chosen, listen to him!"

            Again, wow. Peter is being told, by a heavenly voice, to be silent and listen. He is reminded that he can't benefit from the teachings of Jesus if he's always talking, if he's always stuck on trying to preserve the past.

            Again, we have the same opportunity to reflect on how this passage speaks to us. When and how does God speak to us? What are we doing while God is speaking? Are we taking the time away from the constant noise of the world to retreat to a place where God can speak? Are we willing to be still enough, even in prayer, to let God proclaim truth to us? Are we able to be dazzled by the presence of Jesus right in front of us, even if we've never seen His presence in that way before?

            Even the last little snippet of detail is important. After the voice speaks, Jesus is standing there alone. Peter and James and John see their friend, but they also see so much more. They see the future. They see the new Israel. They see the fulfillment of the law. They see that Jesus' words to them are so much more than words, but the promise of the life to come. They see, too, that what they will do from that point on will have a profound impact on the world.

            So my last reflection invitation is how we put ourselves in this place. How do we see Jesus as the centre of it all; the divine presence here on earth, the one to help bring about new opportunity and new ministry? How do we listen to that presence of Jesus in such a way that the world will hear His message through us? How do we keep silent until the right time, eagerly listening to receive God's message, rather than trying to provide the answers we think we know?

            It's a powerful lesson. It's a powerful passage. And once again, it's a wonderful opportunity for us to see the power of God in our lives.

            So I pray: I pray that we will all see the face of Jesus showing through the faces of everyone we encounter: that they may be transfigured before us into a likeness of God's image.

            I pray that we will have the ability to be still and silent when God is speaking to us, so that we will hear and understand the truth of the Holy Message that is being revealed to the world.

            I pray that we will remember to be dazzled by the power of God: in the moments that catch us unawares, and in moments of ordinariness.

            May we celebrate the transfiguration of our Lord, and delight in having our eyes open to seeing God's love and mercy in new ways in our lives.