Super Sunday

It might have escaped your notice, but there was a football game last weekend. Although how it could escape your notice I don’t really know. I am a pretty big football fan, as my wife and kids will gladly tell you, with appropriate sighing and eye rolling to accompany the announcement, since none of them share the passion. But even I think there is just a little too much hype about that game. I don’t even know who came up with the word hype, but it seems tailor made for the Big Game. (You know no one is allowed to say Super Bowl Sunday for some reason.) The pregame show starts at 1 p.m., and the game doesn’t start until after 6:00. Is that really necessary? There hasn’t been a day when there wasn’t some mention of the game. The hyperbole is rampant on the sports pages these days. And even the front pages. Super Sunday has leaked out onto the “real news” sections.

That’s when even sports fans like me have to sit up and say, wait a minute. We’ve blown things out of proportion. We’ve gone a little bit crazy here, haven’t we? It seems excessive, to say the least.

We Christians are a quieter sort. The big show, the over-the-top kind of display makes us uncomfortable. Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, go into the closet to pray, don’t parade your piety; these are the kinds of guidelines by which we live. All this hype, all this attention, all this wide-screen technicolor display makes us squirm. That might be why the Transfiguration was never that popular with most Christians.

Okay, maybe it is a leap, but you gotta admit the production values on that mountain top were pretty spectacular. Three of the four gospels record this scene, though there are subtle differences in the telling. Yet, the clear implication is that there is something important going on here. There is some message, some hint, some understanding that we need to glean from the light show recorded in these verses. Jesus, who seems relatively sensible most of the time, all of a sudden pulls out all the stops and goes for the glitz, for the big show, the Super Sunday. It seems out of character somehow. It seems over the top.

Of course, we would never think that way because it is in the Bible and therefore must be important. Instead, we just ignore it most of the time. But what if we just went with it for a while? What if we filed into the stands and got our popcorn and nachos and watched the show? What might we see?

Our first question has to be, “Who is this for?” Are we looking over Jesus’ shoulder as he reads his email, or is this addressed to us? This question has been debated hotly over the centuries, and there is no clear consensus. No, I take that back, the consensus is Yes! There is an element that is clearly a message to Jesus and is a part of the march toward Jerusalem that takes over the rest of the gospel. It is a pep talk, a half-time speech from the coach and the assistant coaches (Moses and Elijah, in this case. Don’t ask me to figure out who is the offensive coordinator and who is the quarterback coach. Some metaphors aren’t meant to go too far!) But there is another component that is clearly a message to the followers, which includes us.

The Transfiguration quote is twofold: Part One – “This is my beloved Son” (or my son the Beloved, or my son whom I love - translation is a tricky business), which is a statement of authority. If the lightshow weren’t enough, now we have an interpretation - Jesus participates in (is a part of, comes from - theology is tricky too) the divinity of God. Part Two: “listen to him.”

It's that second part that Peter messed up on. There he is with his foam finger (Jesus #1!) And his face painted in Jesus colors (I don’t know what Jesus colors might be - hmm, black and blue? Blood red?) and says “I wanna coach!” Okay, maybe that’s a stretch, but what he was trying to do was to make a declaration about what was going on up on that mountain. He was trying to stake a claim, to second his confession by setting up a tent, or a tabernacle to contain the glory of God. The problem was, he couldn’t contain the glory of God. This was God’s moment; this was Jesus’ moment to shine like the sun. It was a little presumptuous of Peter to want to put it in a tent. His job was to stand, or kneel, or fall on his face in awe and wonder—which he finally managed to do.

Our first responsibility is to worship. We are awestruck (when we really pay attention) by the wonder and the glory and awesomeness of God. Falling to our knees or lifting our hands and our voices in praise and singing, lifting our hearts in joy and compassion, is what worship is about.

I love that word “compassion.” The implication is that the passion we feel is to be shared, that’s the “com” prefix. Our worship should do more than just give us a warm feeling in our hearts. It should transform us to shine like the sun as we bring light and life to those around us. Our family, our neighbors, our coworkers should know that we have been to worship. Because they see in us the desire to listen to Jesus. Worship is our moment to hear again the call to serve, the call to love, the call to give ourselves away. Worship is all about Jesus, but it is at the same time all about us. About him as the beloved Son and us as the ones drawn together in community and privileged to be able to listen to him. That means, and I know you saw this coming from the opening paragraph, for a follower of Jesus Christ every Sunday is a Super Sunday.