This evening we begin a five-part preaching series entitled, “Breaking the Word.” Each Tuesday in Lent we’ll be considering a different word. The words we’ve chosen – conversion, forgiveness, grace, redemption and passion – are words that we Christians use frequently but which we may not fully understand. We seldom take time to explore their meaning or to reflect on their significance for us. That’s the purpose of this series.
Tonight’s word is “conversion.” It’s a word that, for some of us, might have some mixed, or even negative, associations:
- It may elicit unpleasant memories of encounters with religious groups or individuals that make it their chief aim to convert others to their point of view.
- It may bring to mind a certain style of evangelism that strikes us as manipulative or intrusive.
- It may conjure up images of “hell-fire and brimstone” sermons, or of massive crusades in which charismatic preachers try to whip up the emotion of the crowd to affect a response to their message.
- It may remind us of people we have know who have been “converted,” but who bore witness to their conversion in remarkably unattractive ways.
As our bulletin notes, the word itself simply means “to turn around.”
Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36
There’s a well-known mountain in the Holy Land. Ask a kindergartner to draw a hill, and that’s about what it looks like: improbably rounded and just sitting there, seemingly removed from its geological context. Mt. Tabor, the traditional sight of the Transfiguration story we’ve just heard. What’s most stunning about Mt. Tabor is the view from the top. It has to be one of the most beautiful anywhere, a grand, panoramic sweep.
If you’re standing facing east, the hills around Nazareth are back over your left shoulder, the hills around the Sea of Galilee at about 10:00, with Mt. Hermon, snowcapped in winter, beyond that to the north. The distant mountains across the Jordan River straight ahead. The hills of Gilboa, where King Saul was killed, at about 2:00. The rich, fertile plain of Jezreel at the foot of the mountain stretching from about 12:30 all the way to 5:00. The Carmel range stretching from about 3:30 back to 5:30 in the distance—Haifa, the Mediterranean port, is just out of sight almost behind us.
The Transfiguration story is mainly about Jesus, of course, and a vision of the fullness of his divine life. It’s about us as well, and a vision of the fullness of the Resurrection life we await. O wondrous type, O vision fair, of glory that the church may share. [Hymnal 1982, #137]
Although we anticipate this greater and more glorious life even now, the life we have is the one we have: the life of flesh and blood. A life of flesh and blood created of the dust of the earth, given to us and redeemed by God. A life of flesh and blood taken on by God: …and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. Our ultimate transfiguration, for the time being, belongs to the religious and poetic imagination.
“Now when the Pharisees and some of the scribes who had come from Jerusalem gathered around [Jesus], they noticed that some of his disciples were eating with defiled hands, that is, without washing them.”Mark 7:7:1-2
The criticism about Jesus’ disciples not washing their hands was not the Pharisees’ concern about the spread of germs. This is about ritual purity. The Pharisees believed that in addition to the Ten Commandments, Moses had received other commandments from God which had been communicated privately to the Pharisees down through the generations.