Devotion - Monday, February 20

I hope you were able to share in yesterday's celebration of Transfiguration Sunday. The final Sunday in Epiphany is set aside for the greatest story of the light coming into our world to shatter the darkness. While only Matthew and Luke speak of the birth of Jesus, and only Matthew has the story of the visit of the Magi, all the Synoptic Gospels tell of the events when Jesus goes up on the mountain top and the dazzling light transforms him.

The placement of this story at the end of Epiphany and just before the start of Lent is intentional. Jesus comes down from that mountain and he begins to make his way to Jerusalem. He instructs his disciples that he will enter Jerusalem, be betrayed, and crucified.

This Light, which comes, reveals what it is that God will do to overcome our inability to see.

My Transfiguration celebration occurred with a group of students participating in the regional Lutheran student retreat. The church/campus ministry which served as our host has among its LCM group two young women who are blind. Yesterday, these two women assisted the worship service; one by reading the lessons, the other by leading us in prayer.

I don't know whether it was just their turn to fill these roles, whether they were asked to fill these roles because the LCM group was there, or if they were intentionally selected because of the Transfiguration Sunday texts. But it was powerful to hear them read so many words making reference to light, and seeing, and brightness.

It is too simple a thing to say that all those lessons refer to "spiritual sight" and to "seeing with one's heart." I found myself contemplating all the ways in which we speak of the experience of God as if it could be contained in the input of one of our senses. Sunday the reference was to "seeing the light." On Thursday, in a presentation to the Baptist campus ministry group, I read Paul's words about "hearing the good news," ignoring in my comments the issue of being hearing impaired.

The presence of Christ, which breaks into our life is a total experience which cannot be limited, cannot be denied. If we understand it merely as something we "see," then we will loose our confidence when the vision fades. If we think of it as something we "hear," what is to prevent us from switching our allegiance when we hear something more pleasing? We feel the baptismal waters flow over our heads, and we taste the bread and wine of the Eucharist, but these too become memories subject to re-interpretation.

We may refer to it as a "light," but it is more than an opportunity to see. The light not only gives vision, it transforms. It changes everything.

I am grateful for Stephanie and Amy and their presence with us this weekend. Their participation in yesterday's worship service allowed me to more fully experience what it is that is happening to us, as we close out our Epiphany journey and prepare for the days of Lent ahead.