Bringing the Mountaintop Down to Earth

A sermon preached at Faith Episcopal Church, February 26, 2006.

I have been an Olympics geek for as long as I can remembe, probably because my Dad is one too. I remember watching the opening ceremonies as a family and being enchanted by the idea of the athletes of the world coming together in the midst of the Cold War. They could play together and compete against each other even as our respective governments kept the tension fueled by fear. There they were marching in together – the Americans always looking so fresh-faced and wholesome – the quintessential American youth – I loved it. In the early days of my Olympic love-affair it was all for the glory of the sport. Any hint of professionalism could get you booted from competition. If you weren’t there for the pure love of the sport you were somehow sullying the event with something as tawdry as money. Idealistic but not very realistic.

The Olympics were also an opportunity to watch sports in which I had absolutely no interest like bobsledding or biathalon – that strange combination of skiing and shooting. And then there’s the luge –which is not quite like the good old days of belly flopping onto your sled – a red flyer if you were one of the cool kids and hoping you were still hanging on by the time it got to the bottom of the hill. No the luge is a “feet-first, crash-helmet mandatory screaming down a twisting frozen chute at frightening speeds” kind of sledding. One of my favorite Olympic stories involves the luge. The first year that one of the Koreas sent a team to compete in the winter Olympics, it was a team of one. They had formed an Olympic committee, but alas, they had no athletes, no skiers, no figure skaters, certainly no hockey team but they had one guy – one poor schmo who sat watching films of all the winter sports trying to figure out which one he might try and low and behold, he sees the luge – and he says “I think I could do that one.” So they bought him a luge and a helmet and a plane ticket sent him off to the Olympic winter wonderland. His goal was to make it down to the bottom of the run and still be in contact with his sled all so his country could be represented. On his final run, he achieved his goal – he wasn’t actually on his sled but he was still holding on to it. He became the darling of the lugers – even the well funded medal winning Germans got caught up in his bravery and determination. That’s the spirit of the Olympics and it’s why I love it.

This year has had it’s share of stories, conflicts, and that whole new breed of winter Olympic athletes on center stage – the snowboarders. They wear the baggy clothes and compete with their i-Pods pumping extreme music assaulting their eardrums. There was a crabby column in the Times this week trying to make the case that these sports didn’t belong because, well, the athletes didn’t really seem to care if they won the gold or not. When Lindsey Jacobellis came in second after a fall caused by a bit of pre-finish line celebrating her response was “I having fun. I mess up. Oh well, it happens.” Somehow this was unforgivable in a “winning is the only thing that matters” climate. But it sounds more to me like the idea of coming together for the love of it.

One really good story from the world of speed skating is Joey Cheek – a Carolina boy who won a gold and a silver medal. He pledged to give his $40,000 bonus earnings to an organization called Right to Play which promotes health and opportunities for children in Africa, the Middle East and Asia. Joey wants his donation to go to Sudanese refugees living in Chad. He said “After years of training and years of people sacrificing so I can be the best in the world, I feel that it is imperative for…anyone who’s able to reach a pinnacle of their career…to reach out a hand and help somebody else.” Since he made his contribution Joey’s corporate sponsors have pledged more than $250,000 and individual donors have pushed it past $300,000. The number of people that visited the website of Right to Play jumped from 10,000 to 90,000 in one day. That’s a great Olympic story.

Now you might be asking, “What does this have to do with why we are here?” Our lessons were all about the Transfiguration. Before the eyes of Peter, James and John, Jesus was transfigured into a glowing being of light, accompanied by Moses and Elijah. It’s definitely one of those stories to which we are to respond– “What do we learn here?” not “Did it really happen?” Because even if it really did happen exactly as the story claims, on it’s surface, it has very little impact on our understanding and our lives. We already know that Jesus’ is the Son, beloved of God. The story loses some of its drama when you already know the final chapters of Jesus story. So for us to find meaning out of it we must see it through the experience of the three over-eager disciples. They are excited by this vision of Jesus with the greatest prophets known to their people. It clarifies things for them about who he is and what he is. They feel included in a new way and they are eager to have that continue. That’s why they offer to build little houses. Like many people who experience a high – the high becomes a goal unto itself. “Just let me keep feeling this way.” Let me always be the popular kid, the BMOC or the Olympic gold medalist. Allowing one moment to define your life is rarely successful. It’s what you do in response to those big moments that defines your character and describes your faith.

The glory of the mountain top is food for our souls. Up there, the mystery and majesty of God is revealed. Such a moment can take your breath away. To grow spiritually, we need those glimpses of heaven but we also need the struggles of the low places. They bring clarity to each other. The promise of heaven sustains us in times of trial. The trials help us to appreciate profoundly God’s gracious desire to dwell with us. All things considered, I’d prefer more mountaintops but I know that all of my best qualities have been formed in of the valleys. Is it any wonder that Peter wanted to horde the moment and make it last forever.

Joey Cheek found a way to bring his moment of glory down to earth and to share it. I can’t think of any better way to interpret the story of the transfiguration. Expect startling moments of grace, embrace them fully, be grateful for them, carry them with you and let them strengthen you to love God and your neighbor. That’s worthy of an Alleluia!

God's new thing

A sermon preached at Faith Episcopal Church on February 19, 2006

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” Well, in all honesty, I’d have to say “I’m not sure.” It’s hard to see through all of the hype and spin of this week’s events to figure out if God is at work or was are just continuing on our merry destructive ways. There are some things that I perceive that I hope might be a new thing about to happen. When these words from the book of Isaiah were written, the people were in exile, but time known as the Babylonian captivity was about to come to an end. The “new things” spoken of were the release from this time of slavery and the return home. The tool that Yahweh would use to bring about this deliverance was Cyrus, King of Persia. It was he who would overthrow the Babylonian empire and send the Jews home, cash in hand, to rebuilt Jerusalem and the Temple. The return from Babylon is understood as a rephrasing of the first exodus from slavery in Egypt. It is a restatement of God’s power and desire to deliver the beloved people from a condition that keeps them from being all that they are meant to be.

We know what the “new things” were back then. When God restored the Jews to their homeland, they reconnected to their roots, their spiritual center, their identity. What are the new things today? What is the spiritual center and home to which we need to be returned? Might it be the state of original oneness of humanity? Long before borders and governments existed, humanity was united in its difference from God’s other creatures. Our receiving of the gift of divine image made us one – it was our foundation to use as God would have us use it. However, the more developed we have become, the more we have found ways to separate ourselves, foment suspicion and take aim at each other.

The Jews have long understood the time in Babylon as punishment for their unjust behavior toward their neighbors and their own. The prophets have always warned about God displeasure when the poor and weak are abused and when hospitality is not extended. The prophets are also universally ignored but God will not be. God is patient and will continue to send opportunities for learning and growth our way. It is in that idea that I think I see the “new things” that God is doing right now. We are being given the chance to leave our self-imposed prison of differences and seek the spiritual home of a respectful and united humanity.

Rabbi Marc Gellman column on the riots over the cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad is worth more than a cursory quote. I’d like to read a significant portion because I think it’s the best thing that I’ve found so far on the subject. It really gets at our ability to see the seeds of something hopeful in a dreadful circumstance.

(Rabbi Gellman's "Can't We All Just Get Along?")

The truth is that with God’s help, we can get along. It will take courage, kindness, stamina and a willingness to do what Jesus taught us – know real power by giving up power. The good new in this week’s bad news is that God’s love is infinitely larger than our inability to hear one another. God’s love is grander than our pursuit of grandeur and our need to be right. God’s love for each and every one of us is lying dormant in every moment of discord just waiting to be expressed as respect, mutual affection and a genuine desire to see our brothers and sisters thrive and live in prosperity and peace. God’s love is new thing always ready to happen.