Remove the Veil
Mark 9:2-9
by Jim Westmoreland
This morning, we will ordain three new Elders, who will serve
as spiritual leaders for our church. And so, we think about what
it means to be faithful and open to the leadership of the Spirit.
This is also the Sunday before Ash Wednesday, which marks the
beginning of the holiest season of the Christian year. It is
during Lent that we are called to enter deeply into the mystery of
Christ's suffering, death and resurrection.
This morning, our gospel reading is about the Transfiguration of Jesus. In Mark's gospel this follows soon after Peter's confession that Jesus is the Messiah/Christ. Mark tells of Jesus' transfiguration to show that Jesus stands in the historic prophetic tradition of Moses and Elijah.
Jesus withdrew with a couple of his disciples to a mountain. This is symbolically significant. Everyone, from Moses on, knows that mountains are places that you climb to get close to God. Moses had to go up on a mountain to get the Ten Commandments. Here on this mountain of transfiguration, the veil between present and future, the curtain separating the human from the divine, was lifted and for a shining instant, the disciples were given a dazzling vision of who Jesus was.
This is what we need so desperately, a dazzling vision of who Jesus was and is today. We are locked in a life of dull routine, a life of no anticipation, a life lived in the middle far away from the edges. The disciples' experience of the Transfiguration was "on the edge." It was a profound, life-changing experience of worship of Holy God, full of grace and mercy. I believe this is what each one of us desperately needs, and yet, there are forces fighting within us that cause us to settle for something far less again and again.
Why is it that we maintain certain religious appearances, but we don't quite get the veil from off of our eyes to let us see at the deepest, most personal level, who Jesus is for us? Why can't we remove the veil?
It is because we are prejudiced, fearful and pre-occupied. We are prejudiced when we act like we already know what God is like, what he can do and won't do, and that He only expects of us what we are willing to do right now. God is in a safe, neat compartment of my life, and, as long as I don't remove the veil, nothing will change.
At times, we refuse to remove the veil, because we know that God will ask and expect more of us in our devotion and ministry to others. We are afraid to remove the veil to clearly see who God is and, in the process to see ourselves as God sees us. To stand in the presence of God is to stand as we truthfully are.
We may choose not to remove the veil because we are preoccupied. We are overly concerned with our wants and needs and do not have time for God to make himself known to us. We are more inclined to dictate to God what to do to make us happy than to fall on our knees in worship.
In U.S. Navel Institute Proceedings, the magazine of the Naval Institute, Frank Koch tells about two battleships assigned to the training squadron that had been at sea on maneuvers in heavy weather for several days. He writes, "I was serving on the lead battleship and was on watch on the bridge as night fell. The visibility was poor with patchy fog, so the captain remained on the bridge keeping an eye on all activities.
Shortly after dark, the lookout on the wing reported, "Light, bearing on the starboard bow." "Is it steady or moving astern?" the captain called out. The lookout replied, "Steady, Captain," which meant we were on a dangerous collision course with that ship. The captain then called to the signalman, "Signal that ship: 'We are on a collision course, advise you to change course twenty degrees.'" Back came the signal, "Advisable for you to change course twenty degrees." The captain said, "Send: "I'm a captain, change course twenty degrees.'" "I'm a seaman second-class," came the reply. "You had better change course twenty degrees."
By that time the captain was furious. He spat out, "Send: 'I'm a battleship. Change course twenty degrees.'" Back came the flashing light, "I'm a lighthouse." We changed course."(1)
What is the most important question for us? What does God need to do to make us happy? Or, what do we need to do to worship God?
On the mountain Jesus was transfigured, his garments were gleaming white, and a light shone from him brighter that the light of the sun. His disciples, who had walked dusty roads with him, fell to their knees, overwhelmed with wonder. Then there was a voice from heaven. And they worshiped.
Pray that someday, we might be granted such a moment of wonder. Pray that God might break through to us, might reach down to us.
This is when our faith rises, when the serious business that we do here takes off and sails. Lord, take us up the mountain, light the fire, let there be light, remove the veil and makes us shout, "Lord, it is good that we should be here!"(2) Amen.
Century Christian Church, February 26, 2006 - Sermon by Jim Westmoreland
www.centurychristian.org
1. Story told by Max Lucado, In the Eye of the Storm, Word Publishing, 1991, p. 153.
2. William H. Willimon, Pulpit Resource, Jan-March, 2006, vol 34, no. 1, p. 29.