The glory of Sheer Silence

The story of the Transfiguration of Jesus on Mount Tabor is as disorienting as it is blinding. It was also disorienting and blinding for the three apostles Jesus had taken up with him. Obviously, Peter didn’t know what to say, so we shouldn’t feel bad if we don’t know what to say, either.

One of the more fascinating and powerful reflections on this story is at the heart of the theology of the 14th century Greek theologian St. Gregory Palamas. He suggested that the light of Tabor was the working of the uncreated energies of God. This energetic light, the Light of Tabor, embodies God’s self-giving to us, a giving of Godself, that is deification. Not human self-deification, but deification as a gift from God who gives us everything that God has. This concept hasn’t gained much traction in Western Christianity, partly because it doesn’t compute well with many forms of Western theology. However, for those who find traditional Western theology problematic, the Palamite notion is perhaps an attractive alternative. For what it’s worth, I think the clash between Western and Palamite notions explodes into a powerful mystery which is deeper than one set of concepts alone.

There is much more to the radiance than blinding brilliance. The Hebrew word kabod, also means glory in the sense of honor. This is also true of the Greek word doxa that translates the Hebrew. When we glorify a human being for great accomplishments, there is a sort of radiance we put around them. Saints are often painted with a nimbus when portrayed in art. However, there is a tension at the root of glorification. It almost always seems to be accompanied by derision and dishonor. In fact, the Greek word doxa means dishonor as much as it means honor. The people we honor by putting on a pedestal are knocked over in a heartbeat if they don’t meet our expectations. Artists like Igor Stravinsky and Bob Dylan have both been greatly honored, but both were denigrated when they changed their artistic visions away from projected expectations. This is what happens when fans make idols of the people they adore; they create little boxes to put them in.

What about Jesus? Jesus had received much glory and honor from his numerous followers, not least the three disciples who Jesus took up the mountain with him. But the more some praised Jesus, the more energetically others denounced him. In all three synoptic Gospels, the Transfiguration marks a turning point where Jesus heads towards Jerusalem where he will be denounced, mocked, and crucified. The honor given Jesus turns to dishonor. What about the disciples who experienced the Transfiguration? When Jesus told them what was coming, they resisted Jesus’ resolve and argued among each other as to who was the greatest. I can’t help but suspect that they were basking in the derived honor given Jesus up to that point and, rather than receiving glory from God, wanted to receive glory from the other followers of Jesus. Like modern day fans of celebrities, they were putting Jesus into boxes of their own making, turning Jesus into an idol. The disciples were blinded by their warped understanding of honor at least as much as they were blinded by the brilliance of Jesus’ shining garments.

We can gain more insight into glory by reflecting on the presence of Moses and Elijah with Jesus on the mountain. They were the two most glorified figures in Jewish history. Moses, by receiving the Law on Mount Sinai from God himself shone with the reflection of God ‘s light to the extent that he had to wear a veil. Elijah was the greatest of prophets. Both, however, also experienced dishonor. Several times the people threatened to stone Moses, and Elijah was a fugitive from royal power. Both were implicated in violence, especially Elijah in his contest with the prophets of Baal. They were in the position to know well what was going to happen to Jesus. Moses’ best moments, when he was most Christlike, was when he was interceding for the people to turn God’s wrath from them, even when the same people were directing wrath at him. Elijah, alone in a cave, heard God in the sheer silence of the wilderness. As for Jesus’ disciples, the Book of Acts shows them breaking out of the idolatrous boxes they had made and acting like their Master in self-giving, preaching, and healing, the divine energies clearly working through them.

There is reason to believe that the Transfiguration of Jesus was, at least in part, to prepare the disciples for the suffering Jesus would have to endure, and that they, too, would have to endure. At a deeper level, they were being prepared for the challenges of the Resurrection Life of Jesus that would energize them when the time came. As we prepare for Lent, perhaps we can make it our Lenten project to let the light of the transfigured Christ reveal our own warped notions of honor and dishonor so that the divine energies championed by Gregory Palamas can energize prayer on behalf of other people, especially those who dishonor God, a prayer enveloped in sheer silence.

The Wounded Messiah

Just when the people in Jerusalem are marveling over the healing of a cripple, Peter tells them that it was by the power of the very man they handed over to Pilate to be crucified that the cripple was healed. A cripple has been brought to life, so to speak, since he was functionally dead up to that point, by a man who was killed. Life and death have been brought together with the implication that the people are being offered a choice between life and death.

Peter accentuates the point by reminding them that they “disowned the Holy and Righteous One and asked that a murderer be released” to them. (Acts 3: 14) One would think that a choice between Jesus of Nazareth and Jesus Barabbas would be an easy one. After all, who wants to release a murderer and kill a manifestly just person? Well, everybody in Jerusalem it seems. Huh? The French thinker René Girard helps us understand this strange choice. In a nutshell Girard argued that society tends to resolve its crises through the collective murder of a person who is then blamed for the crisis. In his sermons in Acts, Peter clearly states that an innocent man was put to death by the people who were embroiled in social conflict. That Barabbas was also said to be an insurrectionist puts him right in the middle of the social conflict. What about Jesus of Nazareth, who Peter called “the author of life?” Jesus was the one person who was not positioned within the conflict. He was too busy being the author of life. But being the author of life had him in conflict with everybody: Pharisees and Sadducees both. That made it easy for the two main parties and then the Roman authorities, who normally hated each other, to agree on one thing: Do away with Jesus. Precisely the scenario hypothesized by Girard. This societal choice of death over life keeps a society rooted in death..

Peter sounds accusatory when he reminds the people of Jerusalem what they have done. The overall context however, is an offer of forgiveness: “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,” (Acts 3: 19) This seems like a cheap way out for such a monstrous crime, but this forgiveness can only be activated by accepting the reality of what has been done. This is the importance of remembering the truth of what we have done. The history of white racism in the United States and the protracted difficulty in facing up to the truth of what has been done is an example of how hard accepting such truths can be and the amount of courage it takes to fully repent. That the truth about lynching, acts of collective violence, are especially hard to accept for what they are, is particularly telling. (Or not, as telling is what is normally avoided.) It is repenting through truly remembering that frees us of the past. Otherwise, we repeat the past by choosing death over the author of life time and time again. But just as the cripple has been healed by the Risen Lord, so we, too, have the chance to be healed by the author of life.

Peter excuses the people of Jerusalem on account of ignorance. They didn’t know what they were doing. This, of course, is precisely what Girard says of collective violence: the crowd does not know what it is doing when it is doing it. This is also precisely why remembering the truth is as difficult as it is important. This excuse is curiously coupled with the prophets foretelling that the Messiah would suffer. As Luke and the other synoptic Gospel writers make clear, it was not obvious to Peter and the other disciples that the Messiah would suffer until Jesus was crucified and raised from the dead with the wounds still visible in his hands, feet, and side. And yet Jesus needed only to point to the fates of the prophets, including the Psalmist, to make it clear that this is so. No wonder the crowd in Jerusalem didn’t know that when they put Jesus to death.

One would think that a person raised from the dead would be perfectly healthy and fit, but that is not the case. Even in his risen body, Jesus still bears the wounds inflicted when he was on the cross. More amazing yet, there is no sign that these wounds are cause for resentment. There is the question of whether or not the wounds were still painful. Perhaps not but probably so. Wounds that don’t hurt aren’t real. That Jesus bears these wounds without resentment attests to his profound forgiveness of what we have done. This total lack of resentment transforms these wounds. Moreover, if the wounds don’t go away, then we are permanently reminded of their reality. Again, we must remember what we have done or we will repeat the same collective violence time and again. This reflection can give us more insight into our own wounds, both wounds inflicted on us and the wounds we have inflicted on others which, of course wound us as well. The healed cripple walks, but he walks with the history of having been crippled for years.

In his First Epistle, John tells us that we do not yet know what we will be. In context of the wounded Messiah, we don’t know what we will be with our own wounds. But “when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.” (1 Jn. 3: 2) Once we truly know Jesus as the wounded and forgiving Messiah, we too will be wounded and forgiving. All of this is enveloped in God’s love that makes us children of God

For an introduction to René Girard see: Living Stones in the House of the Forgiving Victim: Abiding in Humanity’s Deepest Connections and Living Together With Our Shared Desires

Jesus’ Escape to the Kingdom

crosswButterfliesThe Ascension is among the most puzzling festivals in the church calendar. The contradictory accounts of the event are a puzzle but one thing the accounts by Luke and John’s Gospel share is to connect Jesus’ departure with his sending the Holy Spirit. Jesus said the Holy Spirit would come to lead them into the truth. What truth did the disciples need that they hadn’t learned already from their teacher? Did Jesus have to leave before the disciples could hear the Holy Spirit?

During his ministry, Jesus warned his disciples three times that “he would be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.” These warnings came precisely at the times the disciples thought that a Maccabean-like revolution against the Romans was just around the corner: when Peter proclaimed Jesus to be the Messiah, right after the Transfiguration, and when James and John asked if they will sit at Jesus’ right and left in his kingdom.

After his Resurrection, Jesus tried again to get across to the disciples what his kingdom was really all about. When Clopas glumly said that he and his companion had hoped that Jesus “was the one who was to redeem Israel,” Jesus, not yet recognized by them, rebuked them for their slowness of heart in believing what “the prophets have declared.” Then he “interpreted to them all the things about himself in all the scriptures.” Later, Jesus appeared to the twelve and explained that everything written about him in “the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled. “Since the phrase “the Law and the Prophets” was used to refer to the whole Hebrew Bible, the special mention of the psalms is significant. The psalms include many laments over persecution from the standpoint of the victim. Jesus went on to say that when the scriptures say that the Messiah was “to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day,” it means that “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed” in Jesus’ name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. Proclaiming repentance and forgiveness is a very different proposition from starting a revolt to restore the kingdom to Israel.

When, in spite of hearing this teaching for forty days, the disciples asked their Risen Lord: “Is this the time when you are going to restore the kingdom to Israel?” Jesus must have banged his head against the nearest tree and cried out: “I’m out of here!” This repeated question may have convinced Jesus that the disciples were never going to stop asking him to restore kingdom of Israel as long as he was walking on the earth with them. Maybe Jesus was planning all along to leave after forty days; maybe he planned to stick around indefinitely but this question was the last straw.

Jesus’s Ascension put paid to any notion of his leading a second Maccabean-type revolution. The disciples were left with no choice but to try doing what Jesus told them to do when he breathed on them and said: “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Jesus’ kingdom is to preach repentance and forgiveness to the whole world until everybody has repented, been forgiven, and has forgiven everybody.

A Risen Life Full of Forgiveness and Love

crosswButterfliesHere is my favorite thought experiment: Imagine that everybody around you ganged up on you, leveled incredible accusations against you, and rained savage blows on your body. Your friends either joined in the persecution or slunk away, too afraid to defend you. Your attackers pressed on until they had put you to a most painful death. Imagine further that, miraculously, you found yourself alive three days later. Having already died, you could hardly die again. You have become invincible. What would you do to the people who had mistreated you? How would you approach your cowardly friends?

Perhaps this thought experiment can give us an inkling of how amazing it is that, when this very miracle happened to Jesus, he did not retaliate, but instead, invited everybody to a big whooping party that will never end. After rising from the dead, Jesus continued to do what he was doing before he was killed: gather God’s people in peace by peaceful means only. That is, after his Resurrection, Jesus practiced what he preached in the Sermon on the Mount: return evil with good, hatred with love. The fullness of Jesus ‘forgiving love can be as earth-shattering as an earthquake or as gentle as stepping through a wall.

If Jesus were dead and there was a body in the tomb for the women to anoint, chances are that Jesus’ disciples would either have remained in hiding or they would have reacted to the violent act of the crucifixion with violence. But in Luke the young men in white asked the women: “Why seek the living among the dead?” That is, God did not will the death of Jesus, God willed life for Jesus because that is what God wills for each one of us. As long as we stop at Jesus’ death, we also stop at the grief and anger and that leads to violence. If we move on to the life of Jesus, than there isn’t the same room for grief and anger because Jesus is alive and wants us to be alive in Him.

In short order, Peter passes on the same absence of revenge of Jesus’ persecutors and fullness of forgiving love for them when he tells the people in Jerusalem precisely what they had done, sticking to the bare facts and not adding irrelevant insults the way we usually do in such situations. When Peter’s listeners were “cut to the heart” and asked: “What should we do?” Peter extended the invitation that he and the disciples had received from the Risen Lord: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” This is a far cry from the response we get from most followers of a slain leader. Peter had heard the cock crow, repented and accepted Christ’s forgiveness and love. Peter was a weak human being like the rest of us. If Peter is like us, we can be like him.

See also Two Ways of Gathering and Violence and the Kingdom of God.