Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Mark 9:2-9, Transfiguration Sunday; Mountains


This is the sermon for Sunday, Feb 22 for Trinity Church of the Nazarene on Transfiguration Sunday.

This picture is from "scripturepics.org"


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When I was in college, I had an opportunity to visit Israel, Jordan, and Egypt—which included some mountain top experiences where I was able to climb Mt. Sinai.

Now I know we’re in Kansas and you don’t see many mountains around here but this mountain was HUGE.

It literally had to go in an “S” up the mountain because it was too steep to just walk up without falling off the edge of the mountain. This formation—is a way to help your body adjust to the incline.

My professor (the smart, educated one… who is one of my favorite people ever) actually thought it might be fun to skip one of the “S” curves on one of the mountains climbed on that trip—so he would just go straight down the mountain.

And by so doing, my dear professor- almost stumbled down the mountain towards his death!

One of my fellow students did this football stance (yep, tiny preacher girl will show visually!) to catch him and keep him from his impending doom.

(You know it wasn’t me keeping the professor from falling off the mountain… I’m so tiny I couldn’t keep a CHIPMUNK from falling off the side of the mountain- HA). :)

But my fellow student saved his life that day—and so we all learned the lesson that the “S” shape on the mountain keeps you from death. And that the mountain is WAY steeper than we ever imagined.

So these S’s keep you from doom on the mountain. You with me? HUGE MOUNTAIN… That’s how big Mt. Sinai is.

Some of my friends took camels up the lower part of the mountain… right before the “S” curves got too steep and the camels couldn’t even do the rest of the trip. I was NOT one of those people. I tried to take a picture of a camel and it tried to LICK ME! It was absolute horror for me that day... one thing after another tormenting me while I tried to make my way up the mountain.


When we get to the point where camels can no longer go up there’s a little store where you can get hot chocolate, whatever… as you make your way up the mountain.

It was SO cold by that point some of my friends had to drop out of the climb because of their frostbite. Literally, their hand was white and iced from the frostbite.
I, however, brought two pairs of gloves and was determined to keep going up this mountain.
So I kept climbing this mountain… trying my best to get to the top… Just like Moses. In fact, I had just written a paper in school about Moses climbing that SAME mountain and I tell you what, if that old man could do it… I was going to do it too.

So we keep climbing and it gets harder and harder to climb. The higher you go up, the higher the altitude and so it gets colder and colder and colder so its like you’re hanging out in the freezer in Ratatouille- times 10; freezing.

When we finally made it to the last leg of this mountain hike, you can almost see the top of the mountain… except for the fog that covers the mountain top.

It is by far, one of the hardest physical things I have EVER had to do. Each step was like your feet weighed 100 pounds and it was getting harder and harder to breathe because it was SO high up. I’m not kidding you- climbing Mt. Sinai is tough to do. A bunch of my fellow students had already dropped out…


By this point it is so high of an altitude that I was having a hard time breathing… but I kept going.

At the very end of the climb; the mountain rocks become like steps- no more "S" shape (either that or I was delusional from the strain on my body to climb this mountain; I'm not really sure- Ha!).

So we climbed up these steps TRYING to get to the top of this mountain.
And there was a dense fog so you couldn’t see very far up the mountain at that point.

But I was quite determined.

And then finally… FINALLY I made it to the top of Mt. Sinai!!
I was FILLED with Frost bitten joy and excitement.

And oh, it was sweet.


I had worked SO hard to make it to the top of the mountain and I did it!


It was quite the MOUNTAIN TOP experience.


But that wasn’t the only mountain top experience I’ve had.

See in Romania… there’s this mountain called Mt. Sinia (“ia” instead of “ai”). It’s named after Mt. Sinai but it’s called Mt. Sinia.

It wasn’t QUITE as hard as Mt. Sinai but it wasn’t exactly the most fun I’ve ever had in my life climbing that thing.

In fact… Pastor Kaza’s (the pastor of Mulvane)’s husband Pastor Mike, was on that trip with me… and he literally had to kick my little tail UP THAT MOUNTAIN.

I wanted to give up. The mountain top experience just was not worth it.
It was almost harder to climb this mountain because I had absolutely no desire to do it.

It was raining. My feet were slipping.
I did not want to climb this mountain. It was no fun at all. I was struggling…

But I tell you what, when Pastor Mike finally kicked my tail up that mountain, it was sweet!

When I finally made it to the top, I was so excited. I was wet but super happy.


And that wasn’t the only mountain top experience I had.

When I was a kid, life at school and church wasn't always that great. Kids were mean to me and picked on me.

Sometimes I was afraid to go to church because the kids were SO incredibly mean to me, for no reason.

But when I came to camp I had a mountain top experience where I encountered God, the Holy One.

I was sitting in service when I heard God talking to me; kind of like God did to Jesus up on the mountain when he was transfigured.

Has that ever happened to you either at a retreat, in a revival service… OR LIKE, HERE WHEN I’M PREACHING, maybe? Maybe? (HA! I'm kidding)

When God talks—it is a MOUNTAIN TOP experience.

Encountering God is like being up on the mountain.

Those times where we sense Gods presence and we work on our relationship with God and God calls us to be more then we could have ever imagined or faked to anyone else.

Because it’s up on the mountain where we encounter the Holy One; just like Jesus did when he was transfigured.

The voice of God validates, affirms, and approves Jesus, right there on that mountain top.
The voice says that Jesus is God’s Son and that we should listen to him!

This is transfiguration Sunday… where we talk about Jesus on the mountain top and God’s voice telling us to listen to Jesus…

And although mountain top experiences are sweet—climbing the mountain… is not so sweet.

If people in flatland Kansas can learn anything from this east coast girl, climbing the mountain is not so sweet. It’s hard and difficult.


Our upcoming mountain top experience is Easter. Resurrection Sunday is closer than you think… actually—since Lent is 40 days… that makes it what, 43 days away?

Our upcoming mountain climb— is the hard work of climbing up the mountain to get to that sweet experience in the season of Lent; beginning Ash Wednesday (this coming Wednesday).

Our mountain climb begins this Wednesday with Ash Wednesday.

Dennis Bracher (on crivoice) writes, “It is too easy and promotes too cheap a grace to focus only on the high points of Palm Sunday and Easter without walking with Jesus through the darkness of Good Friday, a journey that begins on Ash Wednesday. Lent is a way to place ourselves before God humbled.”

What is this "cheap grace?"

Cheap grace is celebrating the resurrection on Easter Sunday morning without suffering alongside Jesus, without walking with Christ to the cross.


Cheap grace is taking a camel all the way up the mountain. Getting to the mountain top without sweating (or freezing) to get up there.

Cheap grace is partying on Easter Sunday morning but failing to mourn on Ash Wednesday (and the entire season of Lent)—remembering our sin, our mortality, our broken relationship with God that NEEDS Easter Sunday morning.

For too many years as a young person—I felt this cheap grace. I never climbed the mountain (doing work and freezing to death) to get to the Easter mountain top experience.


Until I joined together with a community on Ash Wednesday, humiliated with the fact we were nothing but ashes and to ashes we would return.


Because this is what Ash Wednesday means—ashes. We are nothing but mere ashes and in God’s great mercy, life was breathed into those ashes.

Ashes are a symbol of mourning and sorrow for the death sin brings in the world. That our sin leads to death—and to ashes we will return.

I read an article this week (An Emergent Manifesto of Hope, Baker, Pagitt and Jones, 2007) written by a prison counselor. It was absolutely facinating. He said, "One of the luxuries of working inside a prison is not having to waste time convincing inmates that their lives have become unmanagable" (92).


And that perhaps churches should work to encourage "their parishioners to act more like prisoners" (95).


Ash Wednesday creates a space for us to become like prisoners; for us to mourn, for us to grieve, for us to be sad about death—for us to be sad about the fact we’re going to die. To be sad about our sin and admit our lives are a mess.

Why do we give something up during Lent, beginning with Ash Wednesday?

Because it is part of the journey towards Easter. It’s part of the journey of suffering with Christ.

It’s part of the mountain climb up to Easter. And we do it together, as a community.

There is something mysterious that happens when a community of faith together bows their heads in humility and suffers together without “something” for 40 days. When we admit our lives are unmanagable-- and we need to fast from something as a spiritual discipline to learn about who God is and who God is making us.

There is something mystical that happens when we deny ourselves “something” for 40 days.

There is something unexplainable that happens when we become broken together—thinking about our mortality and our need for repentance.

Things happen. Lives are changed. Churches are transformed to be a more loving community—allowing the sins of selfishness they did not even know they had—die next to Christ.

Fasting during Lent is a time that has the potential to bring us together—in our common brokenness where we beat our chests and cry out to God for mercy—and then together celebrate when that mercy breathes life into our death.

Let us participate in this Lenten journey together. Let's climb this mountain together-- as we approach our big mountain top experience of Easter Sunday morning.

Everyone should find a card in their bulletin titled: “My Lenton Pledge”

And it has a prayer: “Lord Jesus, in order to grow closer to you, learn how to give up what I want for what you want, and be united with you in your suffering, I give you something I love this Lent season. By saying “no” to this thing may I learn to say “no” to sin, learn to spend more time with you in prayer, and be closer to you. Amen.”
After the prayer it says, “I will deny myself ____________.”


And if you see in this prayer—There are things for us to learn together this Lent season through self-denial.

1) Let's together, to learn how to give up what we want for what God wants. When you constantly say “no” to something you want, you learn a pattern, a behavior, a way to respond to God—how to say no to what you want later. And thus, you learn how to say “yes” to God’s plan for you, how to give up what you want for God’s plan for creation.

2) Let's learn the pattern of saying “no.” If we say “no” to what we want, “no” to what we want, and again “no” to what we want, when sin creeps up, we have learned the pattern of saying no.

3) Let's become united with Christ. As we deny ourselves, we become connected to Jesus who also denied his very life.

4) Let's learn how to pray together, how in our self-denial we learn how to focus on God and God’s plan for us. How we become closer to God and each other in our common brokenness.


This week you have your card. Think about it. Ponder over what God could be asking you to give up this year.

Some might give up ice cream. Some might give up cookies.

Last year I gave up my rightful place in life. And it was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. This meant I let cars cut me off without a response (because it was not my place anyway). This means I let people in front of me in the grocery line.

It was one of the most difficult things to give up—but I learned a whole lot about myself and my selfishness; things I would never see on my own (without a fast).

Some might give up TV or electronics. Some might give up something of privilege… sleeping in a bed, eating 3 perfectly full meals.

Some might give up the way they respond. Perhaps if you have an angry response you could give up your right to respond—so you literally bite your tongue and let whatever is said or happen- happen; giving up your right to respond.

Some might give up makeup or joyriding.

Whatever it is—I want you to write it on this card (keep this card), commit to doing it BY Wednesday (Ash Wednesday) and then we will nail another card to the cross next Sunday—as a committed community together; ready to see what God will do with us in our common brokenness.

We are going to climb this mountain together, beginning Ash Wednesday.

We’re going to give up something and in our common brokenness and in our common self-denial, we are going to suffer.

And we’re going to watch what God does in our suffering.

We’re going to climb this mountain, get frostbit together; we’re going to lift our legs when they feel like they weigh 100 pounds together.

We’re going to struggle together.

6 comments:

Jonathan Phillips said...

Great sermon. Your descriptions made me feel like I was right there with you at Mt. Sinai and again in Sinaia, Romania. :-)

Christy Gunter said...

Wait, you were with me in Romania... weren't you?!

Jonathan Phillips said...

I was there with you both places. I watched (with you and Kate) as our esteemed and educated professor almost slid to his death...and it WAS cold up there!

Christy Gunter said...

Wow. I'm a better story teller than I thought. Thanks for the compliment you didn't even know you gave me.

I convinced someone who WAS ACTUALLY THERE... that I was present at that second mountain climb. I actually went into the old city of Jerusalem the day you, DP, Kate, and the others went to that 2nd mountain.

I expected to tell the story well enough that people who weren't there couldn't tell I was flipping between Mt. Sinai and the 2nd mountain... but you were there! :)

I believe you've made my day. Thanks Jonathan.

Jonathan Phillips said...

You know, as I read that, I thought, "Wait a minute, wasn't that Masada, not Mt. Sinai?" I dug out my pictures, and you weren't at Masada. Well, if Christy says our esteemed professor nearly fell to his death, she must have been there. It must have been Mt. Sinai instead of Masada.

I guess maybe I should read the words instead of just ideas. You didn't say it was Mt. Sinai.

But yeah, you got me. I thought you were there.

You were at Sinaia in Romania, right?

Christy Gunter said...

I was! I really was at every mountain except Masada. :)

I'm looking forward to having you preach at our church in a couple of weeks. It's going to be fun.