INTRODUCTION: Today’s Scripture reading is the story of the “Transfiguration,” where three of the disciples have what we could call a “mystical encounter” or “spiritual experience” that has a profound effect on their faith. As we listen to the description of their experience, may we find ourselves more open to the various ways we may encounter God in our own lives.
SCRIPTURE: Mark 9:2-9
2 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
9 As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
SERMON: “Noticing God in Mystical Encounters”
There is a wonderful walking trail that loops through the woods near our house in Beverly, Massachusetts. I like this trail because if I time it right, in the morning, the dog and I emerge from the woods, pass through a stand of sumac, and turn east into a meadow just as the sun is rising over the treetops and everything is bathed in gorgeous, golden light. It is like walking into a painting by Van Gough. (I am sure you know the kind of vista I’m talking about—you have many beautiful walking trails here in Franklin, too.)
I remember one winter’s morning a few years ago when we had about 3 or 4 inches of snow, snow that had melted a little bit during the day and refrozen at night, so in the morning, it had kind of a thin, shimmery crust on top. You know, the kind crust that is like the glaze on a candied apple—it crunches nicely when you step on it. (Not that I’ve stepped on that many candied apples… But I digress…) On that morning, when the dog and I had emerged from the woods, we passed through the stand of sumac and turned east as usual, right when the sun had cleared the tops of the trees and was blazing across the snow-covered meadow. Brilliant sunlight reflected off the crusty snow, turning everything a dazzling white. It was so bright, I had to stop and shield my eyes for a moment; I couldn’t even move. Even the dog stopped for a moment in her tracks—too stunned by the light to even sniff. It felt like a holy moment.
I wonder if this was a little bit like what Peter and John and James experienced when they went up the mountain with Jesus to pray, and he was transfigured before them. Our reading from the Gospel of Mark tells us that “…his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” Another Gospel account of this event adds to this description by saying that Jesus’ “face shone like the sun,” which, interestingly enough, are the same words used to describe the face of Moses after he had met with God on a similar mountain where he received the 10 commandments.
But back to Peter, James, and John. When the glory of this Heavenly Light hit them, I wonder if the disciples had to stop and shield their eyes. I wonder if they were momentarily too stunned by the radiance of Jesus’ countenance to even breathe or move. And then, when they uncovered their eyes, did they have to squint against the brilliance? Did they wonder, at first, whether the light was playing tricks on them--or were they actually seeing something supernatural? But then Moses and Elijah appear. And then they all hear the voice of God. There was no doubt then: this was a true, mystical encounter. In other words, it was a spiritual experience that defies description, that comes unbidden upon the recipient, that lasts but a moment, but leaves profound insight that changes the course of a person’s life. This definition of a mystical encounter is based on the work of philosopher William James, and can be found in Richard Peace’s book, chapter 1, if you are looking for more information. (Peace, page 25.)
But back to our Scripture text: stunned, awestruck and terrified, after seeing the shining face of Christ and the apparitions of Moses and Elijah, James and John keep quiet, but Peter begins to babble. He says something like, “Lord, wow, it’s great we could be here! If you want me to, I could put up three shelters, build some memorials here for you and Moses and Elijah.”
Peter is so human, isn’t he? Overwhelmed by the glory of God, which defies description or comprehension, he turns to what he knows; he tries to scramble back into his comfort zone. As a fisherman, he’s always been a hands-on kind of guy. He knows how to haul in fish, how to mend a net, how to handle a boat in bad weather. I’m sure he’s even handy on land—no doubt he could build a shelter, construct a memorial, no problem. Can’t we just see the way his mind works? Rather than focusing on the spiritual brilliance in front of him, which, frankly, is way more than he can even begin to wrap his mind around, Peter starts focusing on something he can understand. He starts planning a building project—something familiar and comforting.
Do we ever do this? At home or in church? Do we ever begin to feel the spiritual presence of God in a way that defies description, and, then, frankly, we just get a little freaked out by it? We experience both the awe and the fear that come with a mystical encounter, but then, ultimately, the fear gets the best of us. However, unlike Peter and James and John, our fear may be less about actually experiencing the presence of the supernatural—our fear may have more to do with worrying about what other people will think of us if we tell them what happened.
In his book, Noticing God, Richard Peace cites a research study that was done in 1976 by the University of Chicago that looked into mystical encounters. Surprisingly, a large percentage of Americans in the study—35%--reported having a life-altering, mystical encounter. When the same study was repeated 40 years later, the percentage had gone up to 50%. But the most interesting part of the study, to me, was that “the study revealed that few of these people talked about their experience with others even though they regarded this as the most valuable or among the most significant experiences they had ever had. They feared they would not be believed.” [Noticing God, p. 25]
I can’t tell you how many times, as a pastor, someone has said to me, “You may think I’m crazy, but…” and then they tell me about a very moving spiritual encounter they had that had a huge impact on their lives. I always feel very privileged and honored when someone shares their story of such an experience with me—because I know people are reticent to share such things. Like the researchers found, people often do not share their spiritual stories even with their fellow church members because they are afraid they might be judged.
Now, hear me, I’m not saying that every odd or freaky thing that we human beings experience is always a mystical encounter with God. Sometimes odd and freaky things happen to us if we take too much medication—or not enough-- or drink too much wine or have an illness that affects our brain. All I’m saying is that sometimes the unexplainable experiences we have are from God, and we should not automatically discount them—for ourselves or others. We should allow our true mystical encounters to inspire our own lives—and the lives of others.
Richard Peace divides mystical encounters into a few different categories, including “the dramatic” and “the mundane.” [Noticing God, p. 26] The dramatic encounters, he says, are fairly rare. We may experience one or two in our lives—or, perhaps none at all. One type of mundane encounter, however, what Peace calls “brushes with God” can happen quite often—and the more we are aware of them, the more we realize that God is present everywhere. Let me quote that paragraph in the book:
In fact, this touch of the Divine seems to come at those times when life shifts out of the normal for a moment: when we are in pain or we experience great pleasure, when we are listening to music that makes us catch our breath or we are viewing great art that touches our souls. There is such an array of these kinds of moments: canoeing at dawn on a New Hampshire lake; standing in front of the great cathedral in Orvieto, Italy, in the late afternoon when the sun makes the façade sparkle and come alive; singing “the Church’s One Foundation” with a vast congregation caught up in this great hymn; catching a glimpse off to one side of something familiar that for a moment becomes new. The world is, indeed, alive with God. [Noticing God, p. 30]
It is my hope that each of us, beginning today, will be more aware of the Presence of God in mystical encounters—whether dramatic or mundane. And may we not be afraid to share the stories of our encounters with one another—here at church—and out beyond these 4 walls. (In fact, feel free, if you wish, to bring a story today to share at our virtual coffee hour.)
Pastor Mark Batterson says that when we share our stories, we let others “borrow our faith.” And, when we listen to someone else’s story, “we get to borrow theirs.” Either way, Batterson says, “the church is edified and God is glorified.”
May we take the risk to share our experiences of God’s presence, that our faith may be strengthened and our joy may be shared. Let me offer a prayer that’s based on a prayer by Ruth Duck, from a book called Touch Holiness, edited by Maren Tirabassi:
God of mystery, we thank you that you make yourself known to us.
Peter, James, and John saw you in Jesus when he was transfigured and shone as bright as the sun.
Your people at Pentecost knew your Spirit had come near, descending in tongues of flame.
We yearn, mysterious God, for clear signs of your presence, for amazing, spiritual experiences and not just faint glimmers.
We would like to live by certain knowledge and not by faith.
Yet we know that the faithful have gone out trusting in you,
not knowing where you were leading,
and that we too must live in faith.
Teach us to notice your presence more and more.
Take our hands and stay beside us,
that we may follow your will as far as we understand it.
Heal our sorrows; calm our fears; set us on sure paths.
Help us to be your people indeed, through the presence, the word, and the example of Jesus, in whose name we pray, Amen.
Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt
Franklin Federated Church
Franklin, MA
[An earlier version of this sermon was written and preached by Marlayna in February, 2018. ]