Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! This may be blasphemous to admit as a priest because I think I’m supposed to love Christmas and Easter the most, but Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays because I see Valentine’s Day as an excuse to unabashedly show love to everyone. So, if no one has told you today, you are loved.
Now, when I realized I was preaching on Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d preach solely on love. However, today is also Transfiguration Sunday. On this day, we read of Christ’s transfiguration – his transformation into a more elevated spiritual state as a reflection of God’s glory. But what of those who accompanied Jesus and witnessed this transfiguration? Peter, James, and John witnessed the person they loved, Jesus, entirely change into something else in front of their eyes. And they, we read, were terrified. In the moment, they likely did not understand what was happening. Would you, if you saw someone you love change before your eyes? It is hard for me to believe that these men weren’t spiritually impacted by witnessing the transfiguration of Christ. These men are our focus for today as we explore love in the face of fear. In particular, the fear of the unknown. To do this, let me interweave a story alongside our Gospel narrative. In 2 weeks and 5 years ago from tomorrow, my friend Elizabeth died of anorexia – an eating disorder and mental illness which made her mind tell her that her body was ugly, unworthy, and unattractive. This disease literally transformed her from a healthy, young woman with a promising future in psychiatry and an incredible gift for music, to skin and bones. So, when I read our Scripture on the transfiguration for today, I cannot help but think of Elizabeth:
Our Gospel today tells us that Peter and his friends were “terrified” by Jesus’s physical transformation that occurred during the transfiguration atop that mountain…[1] They were so terrified that they kept silent. Silent. The fear they felt from watching their friend physically change before their eyes, the fear of the unknown that occurred before them, silenced them. Just like my fear from watching my friend physically change before my eyes, the fear of the unknown, silenced me. Because of my fear, I did not talk about or to Elizabeth after her parents pulled her out of school and admitted her to the hospital. Because of my fear, I refused to even consider how I was supposed to still show love to Elizabeth. Because of my fear, I rebelled against talking to anyone about how I was truly feeling. My confusion left me terrified; and my fear left me silent. I can only imagine that Peter, James, and John must have felt something similar. At her healthiest, Elizabeth was vibrant. She sparkled. Her deep blue eyes shone brighter than anything I had seen before. Her operatic voice filled a room. She appeared strong, though her body small. Elizabeth always, always showed love in the face of fear. But then, her disease changed her; it altered her appearance. Anorexia turned Elizabeth from the young woman with a promising future to a statistic – one of the 30 million people in the US who have an eating disorder.[2] Though not a divine transfiguration like Jesus, Elizabeth underwent a transformation. A transformation which, like the disciples atop that mountain, I bore witness to…which, through experience, leads me to believe that our hearts can be spiritually changed, or transfigured by God, when we are faced with fear of the unknown. Scripture also suggests that fear gives way for transfigured hearts. Throughout scripture, this concept of fear emerges when God is present or after one experiences God’s glory. Maybe, then, we need to listen to our fear – especially in the face of the unfamiliar – because, perhaps, it could be a sign that God is near, transforming our fear into love. We know that the disciples displayed love in the face of fear after witnessing Christ’s transfiguration. Peter offered to build a dwelling place for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Then, after descending the mountain and processing their fear, they were commissioned to tell the world about Christ, who is Love incarnate. Though immediately silent, they did not stay silent forever. They needed to speak, for Love’s sake. I speak for Love’s sake, too. You might be saying, “Anna, why is this the story you chose on a day that is to highlight God’s glory?” Well, we need to talk about mental illnesses, in general, and eating disorders, in particular, from the pulpit. We must spread awareness to better care for one another. We cannot remain silent, otherwise every 62 minutes another person will die from an eating disorder.[3] Remaining silent does not communicate love in the face of fear. Rather, these stories of witnessing transformations before our eyes and then feeling compelled to speak to profess Love, suggest that God transfigures our hearts to communicate Love when we are afraid, if we allow this. Glory be to God. Jesus’s transformation changed Peter. Elizabeth’s death changed me. Through witnessing the physical change toward death of one so alive, my heart was transfigured. Elizabeth’s death became for me the impetus I needed to shine God’s glory onto others. To never let anyone fall through the cracks unnoticed. To have the faith to look at someone and say, “You are God’s Child, God’s Chosen, God’s Beloved…”[4] You are loved. And yet, fear still creeps in. Fear of the unknown, the unfamiliar. Fear that makes it hard to love. This, I believe is where grace enters our story of the transfiguration. Peter was given God’s grace. God’s grace to process the unknown, the unfamiliar; and then choose how to respond. This grace enabled Peter to show love and hospitality, even in the face of fear.[5] Elizabeth’s middle name was Grace. Through Elizabeth, God taught me what it means to be given and to give Grace. I may not have shown love in the face of fear then, but I sure strive to show it now…regardless of if it is Valentine’s Day. Transfiguration of the heart to show love when afraid is a continuous journey. One I’m still on. Finding grace in Elizabeth’s transformation is how I acknowledged my shame, guilt, and anger and used these emotions to allow God to transfigure my heart and not let Elizabeth’s legacy die, in hopes that other people will not die from the same disease. Today, I hope Elizabeth’s story helped illuminate our Gospel Truth that God transfigures our hearts through Christ to allow love to occur in the face of fear. I do not claim Elizabeth’s transformation to be the same as Jesus’s divine transfiguration but, rather, share my experience of watching her transform, of my fear of the unknown, to both honor her legacy as her anniversary draws near, and as a way to build empathy with the men who accompanied Jesus atop the mountain. What is the unfamiliarity of which you are afraid? That silences you? That keeps you from loving? If we pause and listen, we may find God present in this fear, working on our hearts. Yes, the transfiguration is about Christ. But God was present to Peter, James, and John atop that mountain. I believe that the disciples, too, underwent a transfiguration because God, on God’s own timeline, transfigures our hearts so that we are able to act in love when facing fear. May we be open to God changing our hearts whenever we encounter the unknown. Amen. [1] Mark 9:6. [2] NEDA. [3] ANAD. [4] Mark 9:7. [5] Mark 9:5. |