August 7, 2010
I’m sorry for the long absence. I hope and pray to make the space consistently for this again. That’s certainly something easier hoped and prayed for than done, but I’ll give it my best.
Ann and I have been at a lake for the past couple of days, celebrating her birthday and our anniversary. One of the best things about that experience has been sitting on a screened porch overlooking a cove of the lake, shielded by the trees. It’s been a lovely opportunity simply to sit, without checking e-mail, and listen -– to the birds, to the breeze, to God. And every now and then, when one does such a countercultural thing, one is blessed with visions.
This morning, I was sitting there alone before Ann woke up, praying. At other moments in the past few days, depending on the sun and the wind, the water has appeared still and dark and flat, a quiet companion but, frankly, of little interest. This morning, everything changed. A breeze came up, moving the water in a gentle current; the sun was at just the right angle from my eyes. And the result was transfiguration. The water flashed and shimmered as if electrified, glittering with divine energy. It was the same cove, of course -– but it wasn’t.
Yesterday was the feast of the Transfiguration, which recalls Jesus’ appearance with Moses and Elijah on the mountaintop. The disciples with him reported that, for a brief moment, everything about him changed –- that he shone in dazzling light, revealing the fullness of divinity they had only glimpsed in words and signs before.
At least part of the message of that revelation is that God continues to share with us flashes of divinity. What usually looks to us still and flat and mundane can become transfigured before our eyes, even now. Take God’s good creation, and add incarnation, and mix it with the breath of the Holy Spirit, and you never know what you might be blessed to see -– or who you might be blessed to become.