August 6, 2014. Anniversary of Hiroshima, and the Feast of the Transfiguration
Today Christians recall the incident in which Jesus invited three friends up a mountain, where they saw him changed (Greek: metamorphosed; Latin: transfigured). His appearance changed: specifically, his face shone and his clothes turned white. They saw him at home among friends focused on the Law and the Prophets -- that is, in conversation with Moses and Elijah -- although the account does not specify how the Peter&James&John recognized two men they had never met in person. Peter offered to capture the moment, by setting up tents for everyone to hang around for awhile. Then God spoke up, and the three were scared into silence. Jesus told them to get up (to “rise”), and they looked around (“raised their eyes”), and found things returned to apparent familiarity. Jesus told them not to talk about what they had seen until they had a context for the event (until he “rose” from the dead).
I noticed the rise/raise matter. I thought it was interesting that Jesus spoke of rising from fear, then of rising from the dead; and their response was not to rise from the dead (of course), nor even to stand up, but just to lift their eyes a little. It’s only an issue in English; the Greek words are not similar. Jesus speaks of rising twice, and the phrases are worth pondering; but the word for raise is completely different.
The Greek does have an interesting layer, though. Peter offers to erect “skeinei”: tents, or tabernacles (if you’re Jewish with a memory of the Ark in a tent), or some kind of semi-permanent dwellings. In his Gospel, John uses the same word, and says that the Son of God became one of us, and came to live among us -- and he erected his tent (skeinei) among us. So Peter’s offer to erect three tents seems a little silly until you realize that it was precisely right -- just redundant -- because Jesus had already done it.
The transfiguration knocks me silent. When I was trying to figure out what Scripture says about immigration, I learned to admire and trust and enjoy Moses, as well as Jesus. Good company. Still, I have next to no idea what that meeting on the mountain was all about. But …
I am not worried about meeting Jesus. Maybe I should be, because I’m a mess; but I’m not. What Jesus said over and over is that when we care for people in need -- hungry, thirsty, immigrant, badly clothed, sick or jailed, in particular -- we care for him. I don’t mean to be arrogant, but I hope that some screwed-over folks (dumpster babies, Bengali survivors, semi-shadowed Latinos) vouch for me when it matters, when I’m judged. I’m sober, but not afraid. Not much, anyway.
Mother Teresa said she saw the face of Jesus in the poor and dying. People react to that as if she were some kind of plaster saint, making an investment in the future: serveth now, getteth paid later. Crown of thorns now, pretend to like these disgusting people, and then get the crown of gold later. I don’t think that’s it. I think she meant what she said: she saw and recognized the face of Jesus. So when she died, she saw it again, more clearly; and she recognized it again, with delight, familiar but amplified.
I do worry about some friends and former colleagues who have whole categories of people, over a billion of them, whom they feel called upon to despise wholeheartedly -- nothing personal, you understand, just get outta here before I blow your goddam brains out with my Second Amendment Special -- especially “illegals” (about 12 million human faces, with some admittedly nasty ones that you can focus on, laser-sharp, if you’re a bigot) and Muslims (over a billion human faces, with some admittedly nasty ones that you can focus on, laser-sharp, if you’re a bigot). I mean, if you don’t recognize Him, you don’t recognize Him.
When we show up, passing over (or “trespassing”) into the land of the mysterious Transfiguration, we are all undocumented immigrants, in need of welcome and hospitality, hoping for amnesty.
