"The Mystical Eye and the Ethical Ear"  San Williams, UPC

Mark 9:2-9

This morning we’re using this sculpture as a visual invitation into an experience of God’s presence. The sculpture is on loan to us from C.D. Weaver, Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary’s artist-in-residence.  As most of you know, C.D. crafted our processional cross, as well as our Christ Candle stand.  Look at this sculpture for a moment.  What does it evoke in you?  What does it make you think of?   (Entertain observations from the congregation—burning bush, eternal flame, smoke, fire, etc.).

For one thing, as you noted, this sculpture evokes the burning bush that Moses encountered.  Remember that Moses was tending his father-in-law’s flocks in Midian when suddenly he was surprised to see a bush that was burning but not consumed.  Moses looked into the flame and saw—what, an angel of the Lord?  Moses was afraid.  He hid his eyes.  That's when he heard a voice from the bush, saying, “I have felt the misery of my people who are in Egypt.  I have heard their cry. I know their suffering.  Go Moses, and set my people free.”  So, yes, this sculpture evokes for us memory of Moses’ mystical vision of the burning bush and the voice that came out of the vision sending Moses to lead the slaves to freedom.

But this sculpture might also evoke the memory of Moses’ encounter with the divine presence on Mt. Sinai.  You'll remember how, after the Exodus, Moses went up on the mountain to meet God. This meeting on Mt. Sinai is described with imagery to convey the mystery and the holiness of a divine encounter.  The mountain was wrapped in a cloud. God’s glory was like a devouring fire. Once again the presence of the Lord was accompanied by the Word of the Lord—"You shall not murder. You shall not steal.  You shall not lie…”  Later, as he returned from the mountaintop, Moses’ face was shining like the sun because he had been in the presence of the Lord; he had heard the Word of the Lord.  As you know, African-Americans in the days of slavery seized upon these stories and were deeply moved by them.  “Upon the mountain when my Lord spoke, out of God’s mouth came fire and smoke. Looked all around me, it looked so fine, till I asked my Lord if all was mine.” (Have the choir lead the congregation in singing that line and the refrain).

Now do any of you recall another biblical character associated with these mountaintop theophanies? Yes, Elijah. In 1st Kings we read that Elijah flees from Queen Jezebel, who has threatened to kill him. He hides himself on Mt. Horeb.  A mighty wind passes over the mountain, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind came an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.”  And from the silence there came a voice summoning Elijah to go down the mountain, take up his prophetic mantle, and continue in his call to be a servant of the Lord.

So this sculpture invites us to experience the mystical quality of these mountaintop experiences, as well as to heed the ethical instruction that issued from them.

In 1978, Samuel Terrien, Professor of biblical studies at Union Theological Seminary in New York, wrote a book that should be more widely known than it is. He titled his book, The Elusive Presence. Terrien’s thesis is that the reality of God’s presence stands at the center of biblical faith, and is the key to understanding the Bible. Terrien acknowledges that, while the religious understanding of the Hebrews was greatly influenced by those of the ancient Near East, two factors made Israel’s faith in God unique.  First, they worshiped a God whose disclosure always had a certain quality of elusiveness. The mountaintop experiences of Moses and Elijah are normative for illustrating the elusive quality of the divine presence. Terrien goes so far as to note that, for most generations of the biblical age, Israel prayed to a Deus Absconditus, a self-concealing God.  “Verily, verily,” cries the Prophet Isaiah,, “thou art a God who hidest thyself!” (Isa. 45:15) Craig Barnes made the same point in a recent Christian Century article, writing, “God is always with us, but usually not apparent.” This quality of divine elusiveness, contends Terrien, is a distinguishing characteristic of the biblical understanding of God.

The second characteristic of Israel’s unique understanding of God is that for the Hebrews the knowledge of God is inseparable from the service required by God.  The presence of God is always experienced in conjunction with a Word from God.  Terrien put it this way.  He said that Israel developed a theology of God’s presence that joins “the aesthetics of the mystical eye with the demands of the ethical ear.”  That’s a poetic way of saying that for both Judaism and for Christianity the worship of God cannot be divorced from service to humanity.    In summary, this coupling of the mystical eye with the ethical ear is the key to all Jewish and Christian understanding of God’s persence.

And it’s also the key to understanding Mark’s story of the transfiguration of Jesus.  The experience of the disciples on the mount of Transfiguration echoes other mountaintop theophanies involving Moses and Elijah. All the images Israel associates with the divine presence are mentioned by Mark:  radiance and light, appearance of Elijah with Moses, the cloud, the voice.  On the mount, the disciples experience a vision of Jesus that reveals him as the human bearer of divine presence on earth.  In him, we behold a reflection of the glory of God.  Yet this perception of glory is fleeting.  Peter wants to build some booths to make the presence tangible and permanent.  But the cloud quickly overshadows this attempt to make apparent that which is always elusive.

And as in the Old Testament theophanies, the glorious vision is accompanied by a voice:  “This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.”  Of course, what the disciples are instructed to listen to are the words Jesus has spoken about his suffering and death, as well as his command to his disciples to take up their crosses and follow Jesus. Mark places the transfiguration story at the very center of his gospel.  It is the hinge that joins the vertical dimension of faith in Jesus as the beloved Son of God with the horizontal dimension of Jesus' suffering love for the world.  Here, in the very middle of his Gospel, Mark enables us to see with a mystical eye the glory of God shining in the face of Jesus even as we hear with an ethical ear the command of God to join with Jesus in paths of lowliness and compassion.  Just why a life of selfless, nonviolent love is commanded is never explained; it is simply given as God’s way of redeeming the fallen world.

So here we are this morning in a sanctuary beholding the glory of God shining in the face of Christ. In song and in symbol, in ritual and in sacrament, in light and in silence, in baptism’s claim and communion’s welcome the divine presence of God is experienced in worship.  Yet the mountaintops of religious experience always send us back into the valleys of human hurt and need.  Perhaps we should all tap our feet on the sanctuary floor and imagine it giving way to the level below where Micah 6 ministries are welcoming the poor and feeding the hungry.  We should stretch out our arms and imagine the walls of the sanctuary giving way to other ministries of service, compassion and justice.  Only when worship is fused with service is the presence of God realized in our midst.  As we’ll sing in a moment, the clouds of glory swiftly pass, exposing a world of need.   

May God bless us with a mystical eye to behold the glory of God’s elusive presence, and with an ethical ear to hear God’s command: take up your cross and follow me.