And he was transfigured before them.

I have always been fascinated by the Transfiguration story.

In part because I can’t explain it and things I can’t explain always hold an attraction for me, but in larger part because I have experienced it over and over again in my life and so, despite my lack of understanding, my heart jumps each year at the end of Epiphany, the last day of the star and the wreaths, the last glance at what God wants us to see of divinity in human form. Starting Wednesday night we will move into a season of Jesus’ humanity as he works to chose the right over the easy, the sacrificial over the selfish, life itself over mere survival.

And then it will be Easter and the season of the divine Christ, conqueror and Lord of the universe and more.

Then Pentecost will give us the work of the Holy Spirit filling the Church and leading us to each other and our shared and separate destinies.

Until Advent and Christmas take us back to Bethlehem’s road in our lost confusion and the light that shines in our own darkness.

So what does God look like to you today?

What does Holy look like in the middle of life today?

Those are the Transfiguration questions. And, we can answer them from out of our own experiences today.

For you see, while I have no clever explanations for what Peter and the others saw that day, and while I have no knowledge of what Elisha saw in the whirlwind that took Elijah out of his sight, I do know that you and I have had similar experiences. Because I do know that they all had experiences that would shape and define them from that day forward, they all had a memory moment that was more than idle reminiscing, a memory moment that they would return to and understand differently each time they visited it. We need our memories, they are the gifts from God. Someone once said, and I have always believed, that “God gave us memories so that we could have rose in winter”. But we need to learn how to nurture them, how to choose from them the ones that are helpful and protect them. And we need to learn how to discard the hurtful ones, or at least drain them of their power over us, after we have cultivated any valuable learnings from them.

Debi has a phrase that she learned from a friend many years ago, long before Jon Bon Jovi asked us if we would “like to make a memory”, she would speak of “making memories” and she continues to use it to encourage people who are facing changes in their lives to intentionally plan events and activities that they will be able to store away and draw strength and comfort from in future days. And it is an important concept, especially in times of change and transition.

But it isn’t enough to just make the memories, we need to continually reexamine them to learn how God has transfigured what we thought we knew and saw.

I am, as so many of you know, one who loves my memories of my childhood, my HS and college years, my teaching time and my years here, I love to tell the stories and the legends. But I have to be honest and admit that no, they weren’t all as good and happy and funny and carefree and loving as I remember and tell. The mere facts are that I knew all about the tears and the insecurities, the rejections and the humiliations, the betrayals and the failures, the sorrowful and painful things of life that we all run into if we try to live full and complete lives. And I still do more often then I like to admit. But the reality that goes far beyond mere facts is that God can transfigure what we thought we knew so well, God can change the way we see what we love best. And he was transfigured before them.

The disciples were not happy with Jesus that day. He had just told them that he was going to Jerusalem to die and they didn’t think that was much of a plan, yet they journeyed with him, not understanding nor approving, but loving him enough to stay close to him.

And in the OT lesson, Elisha knew full well that Elijah was going to be taken from him that day, if he didn’t everyone kept reminding him and he kept telling them to be quiet. He wasn’t in denial, he knew that things were changing around him but he wanted to experience it all and he wanted to stay with the mentor whom he loved as long as he could and then to carry on his work. We’ve all gone through times like that that, haven’t we?

Times when we have stuck with each other even when we have been unhappy with each other, times when we have loved our families and when they have caused us pain, times when we have continued to serve a God who has seemed distant and disinterested in us.

And it is often only as we look back on those times that we can see and appreciate their value, the ways in which we began to see facets of God’s love that were previously unnoticed by us.

It is the gift of an ever growing and maturing faith.

And he was transfigured before them.

I have always found it interesting that Jesus tells the disciples to say nothing until after the resurrection, as they come down the mountain.

Most writers think that Jesus didn’t want them disturbing the chain of events that were beginning to unfold, but I’ve always felt that he knew that they wouldn’t be able to make any sense of it, they wouldn’t be able to tell the story rightly, until later in their lives when they would see it differently.

Because I know how often you and I have only understood things after years or decades.

I look back and I know that I grew up in a home and family of love, yet I understood that better last week when I visited with my 95 year old Aunt Doris in a Florida nursing home. As I listened to her stories my memory was transfigured.

And the same thing happened last fall. I had school years of great friendships and experiences, but attending my 40 year reunion allowed me to see those years and those people who were – and thanks to email and facebook still are – my friends, with a brighter light and deeper appreciation, my memory was transfigured.

This Spring when I mark the 33rd and 31st birthdays of my children (a word that doesn’t seem to fit anymore) I know that I will again feel a sense of accomplishment and forgive myself for my many errors as a parent, my memory will be transfigured. And when June comes and the 37th year of marriage is marked off on the calendar I will smile at all of those who knew it wouldn’t last and I’ll recall the hard years as being easier and happier than they were, my memory will be transfigured.

And for 32 years I’ve been able to share and experience the gospel and grace of God in this place, with these last 10 being the best and this one promising to be the best of all, so far, and as I gather and compose the 175th Anniversary book, our memories will be transfigured.

And next week when a Little Girl turns one year old and I laugh at the times I thought my life would be about over by now, only to have discovered, about a year ago not coincidently, a rebirth of enthusiasm for all of life, I know that my memories will be transfigured.

It was a transition time on that mountaintop for Peter, James and John. Not only did they see Jesus differently, they would never see him the same way again. Would they still make mistakes? Of course, Peter’s trying to run a building program on the mountaintop instead of realizing that it is a place to visit, but not to live and the final weeks of Jesus earthly life would be full of the same tragedies and joys as our lives, but that didn’t matter. They might not be able to explain it, but they had heard the voice of God, they had seen Christ and life differently, and that was what they would cling to, cross or no cross, life or death, they had what they needed to get through. It was there in their memories.

It was a transition time for the prophets of Israel, Elijah the first great prophet would yield to Elisha and would carry with him the tradition and the power into a changing world, to speak of God’s unchanging love and law in new and fluid circumstances of life. And he was wise and faithful enough to savor it, to not rush it, to let the long farewell play out in God’s time. As a result he received a double portion of God’s gifts.

So, on this transfiguration Sunday, where are your transitions? What is God giving you to cling to? What is God calling you to be patient in and savor?

Where are your memories today? Can you see yesterday differently, better and holier? Can you forgive, and perhaps harder yet, can you seek and accept forgiveness? In these discouraging days of the economy, can you remember that God is still with you and that the greatest glories of heaven are often revealed in the greatest challenges on earth?

I mentioned Bon Jovi earlier, here’s equal time for Bruce fans. We all have boring stories of Glory Days to speak of, to remember, to laugh at and cry over, to embellish a bit. Glory Days, passed by but revisitable. Our Glory Day stories contain truths about where God has been in our lives, our Glory Day memories are full of clues about where God is taking us today and tomorrow, our Glory Day moments abound with transfigurations of the people and places we have known and loved and been loved by. Let today by a Glory Day, let’s end Epiphany well this year. As we take down the star and the wreaths, let’s also take the time, between now and Wednesday night, to remember and to look around at to smile at God’s glory in our days, to allow our vision and our memory to be transfigured.

Measure the transitions you are in at this sacred stage of your life, recall the transtions you have already made and realize that God will always allow us to see, in all of the changes that we face, a loving presence that will transfigure the way that we see life and live life, today and throughout Lent and throughout our lives.

And he was transfigured before them.