Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Lectionary: 614

You will do well to be attentive to it,
as to a lamp shining in a dark place,
until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.


When the United States invaded Iraq in March 2002, we decided the campaign should begin with “shock and awe.” We would attack them with cruise missiles, bombs, strafing war planes and helicopters, thundering tanks, radio signals, leaflets and so forth. Then our army would rush into the city and take control. The idea was to overwhelm their military and psychological defenses. 

They would be stunned into submission, ready even to accept inexperienced soldiers as police. The conquest of Baghdad is still considered a brilliant victory, although its aftermath was poorly managed. Even the utterly defeated remain awe-stricken for only so long.

Without setting myself up as a judge of military history, I will suppose the basic idea came from the scriptures. There are many instances of God’s appearing to men and women, or of an angel’s appearance, resulting in shock and awe
Terrible and awesome are you, stronger than the ancient mountains. Despoiled are the stouthearted; they sank into sleep; the hands of all the men of valor have failed. At your roar, O God of Jacob, chariot and steed lay still. You, terrible are you; who can stand before you and your great anger? From the heavens you pronounced sentence; the earth was terrified and reduced to silence... Psalm 76
But I suspect military planners read these passages with the wrong hermeneutical tool. They fail to see the liturgical context of all scripture.

Whatever may have happened to Moses on Mount Sinai, or Isaiah in the temple or Peter on Mount Tabor, when we hear these readings during the Mass or another church ceremony we are amazed. the Lord has appeared to us and we are overwhelmed with holy dread. Ablaze in brilliant light, God commands us to “Listen to him” and we sit up straight.

But there may be some among us – as there usually are – who are not caught up in the spirit of the liturgy. There are teenagers flirting with each other, worried cooks wondering if the turkey will be thawed by noon, and late arrivals still shedding their winter clothing. They don’t actually see what the faithful are seeing. Nor do they feel the earth trembling beneath them.

To experience genuine shock and awe one must be prepared. We cultivate an attitude of openness, a disposition to alertness, an eager attention and readiness to submit to divine authority.

Jesus speaks of another kind of shocking situation when he prophecies the last day:

Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left.

The disciples were thoroughly confused by his prediction. "Where, Lord?" they asked. (Somewhere over the rainbow?) But he wasn't talking about where they might end up. What he meant was: 
Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. 
But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. 
Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.