Thursday, February 7, 2013

Religious Experience on Mount Tabor


His face began to shine and
his clothes became dazzling white. (Lk.9:29)

 Religious Experience on Mount Tabor

2nd Sunday of Lent - February 24th 2013
 Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18  II Philippians 3:17-4:1  Luke 9:28-36

Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Luke
Glory to you, Lord.

 About a week later, Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up a mountain to pray. While He was praying his face began to shine and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly two men could be seen talking with Him. They were Moses and Elijah who appeared in heavenly glory. They were talking with Jesus about how He would soon fulfill God’s purpose by dying in Jerusalem.

Peter and his companions who were sound asleep awoke and saw Jesus aglow with glory and the two men who were standing with him. As Moses and Elijah were about to leave Jesus, Peter exclaimed, “Oh Master, how good it is for us to be here! Let us build three shelters here: one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” (He really didn’t know what he was saying.) While he was still speaking, a cloud appeared and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened as they entered the cloud. Then there came a voice from the cloud that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to Him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. The disciples kept quiet about all this, and told no one at that time about what they had seen.

The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
----------------

Introduction
Second Sunday of Advent: Mt Tabor
On the first Sunday of Lent, the Devil takes Jesus to a high mountain and tempts Him. (Lk. 4:6-7) On this second Sunday of Lent, Jesus is again on a mountain called Tabor in Christian tradition. What happened there is recorded in all three synoptic gospels (Mt. 17:1-8; Mk. 9:2- 8; Lk. 9:28-36), and is testified to by three earthly witnesses (Peter, James and John), and by three heavenly witnesses (Moses, Elijah and a voice from heaven). So the Old Testament law requiring three witnesses to attest to the truth of any fact is superabundantly satisfied on Tabor by six witnesses. (Dt 19:15)

 Peter, one of the three earthly witnesses, writes in his second epistle:

I tell you my own eyes have seen his splendor and his glory. I was there on the holy mountain when He shone forth with the glory given Him by God his Father. I heard a glorious and majestic voice calling down from heaven and saying, “This is my much beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” (II Peter 1:16-18)

A religious experience
Something spectacular took place on Mt. Tabor. Tradition calls it `a transfiguration,’ in which Jesus’ worn and weary figure becomes glowing and glorious. Catholics assign a special feast-day for it: August 6, Feast of the Lord’s Transfiguration. Psychologists have their own way to characterize the event. Believers call Tabor a religious experience. That’s an experience which originates from heaven, and which makes us see things and hear voices. On lofty Tabor Peter, James and John see Jesus’ clothes become dazzling white, and they hear a voice declaring, “This is my chosen Son; listen to Him.”

A religious experience on the road to Damascus
A religious experience can happen not only on a breezy mountain-top but also down in the sweaty valley of human existence. Saul of Tarsus had a religious experience on his way to Damascus to persecute Christians there. (Acts 9:1) Suddenly a light from the sky flashed around him, and he heard a voice crying out, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Acts 9:4-5) That experience turned Saul of Tarsus into St. Paul, Apostle to the Gentiles.

A religious experience in a garden
St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430),a `rounder’ who fathered a son out of wedlock, had a religious experience when one day in the garden of his villa he suddenly heard a voice saying, “Take and read! Take and read!” He picked up the Scriptures which lay near at hand, and they fell open to Romans 13:13 where Paul exhorts Christians to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and forget about satisfying your bodily appetites.” That experience turned the `rounder’ into the great Bishop of Hippo in North Africa, who by his voluminous theological writings ruled the Church from the early four hundreds to the thirteenth century.

A religious experience in a dilapidated chapel
St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226) had a religious experience when praying one day before an ancient crucifix in a dilapidated chapel of San Damiano. Beseeching the Lord to let him know what He wanted from him, Francis heard a voice saying, “Repair my church!” Being a literal man, he thought it was the Lord calling him to repair the rickety old chapel of San Damiano. It was, in fact, the Lord calling him to repair the Universal Church fallen into ruin because of Medieval excesses. Because of that experience, Francis fathered a huge family of brothers and sisters, who down through the centuries repaired the Church far more lovingly and effectively than the very angry Martin Luther.

The deadly expectation of nothing
Religion is rooted in religious experience with its coin of ecstasy. There is ecstasy up there on lofty Mt. Tabor: Peter is beside himself and is emoting, "Oh how good it is for us to be here!" It’s so good that he wants to dig in and stay up there forever: “Lord, let’s build three shelters up here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” (Lk 9:33)  Not only is Mt. Tabor high, Peter, James and John are also high.

 Where, if not in church on a Sunday morning, should we expect to have a religious experience making us cry out ecstatically, “Oh how good it is for us to be here”? To expect a Tabor experience at every Sunday Mass is perhaps a bit glutinous and unrealistic. But to never expect a Tabor experience in the Sunday assembly is worse yet; it’s deadly!

 Unfortunately, the expectation of nothing at Sunday Mass settles in on some (and perhaps many) parishioners. Some of them simply recede to a center down deep within themselves and pray quietly to God, as Mass is going on around them. Many young people simply grit their teeth and put up with Sunday Mass, until they can get out on their own and can say `good bye’ to Sunday Mass. Sometimes young people’s expectation of nothing is their fault; that’s the case when they lack all yen for the spiritual. Sometimes, however, it is the Church’s fault; that’s the case when in the Sunday liturgy the Word and the Bread are routinely broken poorly. 

Jung in high expectation of a Mt. Tabor
Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology and the son of a minister, relates how he was in high expectation of a Mt. Tabor experience on the day of his First Holy Communion, and how the Bread was so poorly broken as to prove deadly. He writes, 

I waited for the day with eager anticipation, and the day finally dawned. There behind the altar stood my father in his familiar robes. He read prayers from the liturgy. On the white cloth covering the altar lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread which came from the local baker whose goods were nothing to brag about. I watched my father eat a piece of the bread and then sip the wine which came from the local tavern. He then passed the cup to one of the old men.  All were stiff, solemn, and it seemed to me, uninterested. I looked on in suspense, but could not see nor guess whether anything unusual was going on inside the old men. I saw no sadness nor joy in them. Then came my turn to eat the bread which tasted flat, and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer, all peeled out of the church with faces that were neither depressed nor illumined with joy—just faces which seemed to say, “Well, that's that!” In a minute or two the whole church was emptied!  Only gradually in the course of the following days did it dawn on me that nothing had happened. (Karl Yung Memories, Dreams, Reflections)
 
That’s a sad description of a congregation which expects nothing and receives nothing from their Sunday church-attendance, and is not disappointed at all! After the final prayer, they don’t linger on in a glow of ecstasy. They don’t cry out, "Oh, how good it is for us to be here! Let’s stay here forever.” Instead, they peel out of church as fast as they can, happy to get back into the real world.

When the sun set on the long anticipated day of his first Communion, Jung found himself exclaiming, “Oh, how bad it was for me to be there! And he promised himself, “I must never go back there again!” He kept his promise: the day of his first Communion turned out to be the day of his very last Communion. 

On moving on
If our church never has us crying out ecstatically “Oh how good it is for us to be here,” we shouldn’t just grin and bear it. We should do what we can to help it be a church which puts us up on Tabor. Then if our efforts fail we should move on and ‘shop’ for another church. We take great pain to shop for a good house or a good car or good food; we should  take as much pain (and even more) to shop for a `good church ‘ -- one that can take us up to Tabor and make us exclaim, “Oh how good it is for us to be here!”  

Conclusion
Tabor: not forever and not for itself
The Tabor high was not forever; Jesus and the Apostles eventually had to get off that lofty height and descend into the real valley of human existence. (Lk. 9:37) The Sunday high too is not forever; we have to leave Mass and descend into the sweaty valley of our weekday lives. What’s more, the great high of Tabor was not for itself; it was for the great low that awaited the apostles in the imminent death of Jesus. The Sunday high too is not for itself; it’s for all the lows which await us in the week ahead.