Doing and Being
The Rev. Lee Ann Bryce
Community Christian Church
March 6, 2011
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. -Matthew 17:1-8
Since we read our scripture for today at the very beginning of worship, I’d like to ask you to turn back in your bulletins to the call to worship and just re-read to yourself Matthew 17:1-8 so it will be fresh on your mind.
Had we continued reading in Matthew 17 the next verse wraps up this story of Jesus’ transfiguration. It says, “As they were coming down the mountain Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about this vision until after the Son of Man is raised from the dead.’” In other words, maybe Jesus’ appearance didn’t literally change before their very eyes. Something equally mysterious may have happened. They might have together experienced a vision, a glimpse of a deeper reality. People throughout the ages have seen visions and they still do today. Maybe some of you have. Teresa of Avila famously reported that Jesus came and stood before her in bodily form on many occasions over two years. I know many people who have had mystical experiences of deep connection with the divine or communication with loved ones who have died, a flash of spiritual awakening. These are not crazy people, mind you. They are people who have had experiences that they cannot explain but that are very real and very meaningful to them. Maybe Peter, James, and John saw something like this.
But think about it, we’ve all had the experience of seeing people change seemingly before our very eyes. None of us like it when someone we love suddenly turns into a different person, and it happens all the time. Everything’s going along just fine. We’re in our routine, we know what to expect, and then all at once the little boy is a man. His voice has changed. He’s shaving. He’s leaving for college. Everything’s going along just fine and all at once our elderly mother breaks her hip or starts to lose her memory, and we have to stop and figure out who this new person is.
It’s hard to get a handle on exactly what happened in this story even though we have three versions of it. An account of the transfiguration is found in Matthew, Mark, and Luke. And I always have to chuckle when I read the part about how excited Peter gets. He’s like a big puppy dog, Gee, this is great! How about if I build three little houses for you guys! In the presence of all this mystery, Peter responds with a call to action. Don’t just stand there – do something! Overwhelmed and awed by such magnificence, Peter acts like many of us do when faced with a poignant, powerful moment, carpe diem! C’mon, let’s make it a Kodak moment! Preserve it for all posterity! Let’s build some dwellings! Grab a hammer and some nails and those boards over there! James, John, don’t just stand there with your mouths hanging open. Get busy! Do something!
That’s how many of us think, isn’t it? Busy! Busy! Do this! Do that! Gotta get to work! Produce! Achieve! It’s not really our fault. Our culture values doing on such a fundamental level. It’s even built into our religion – we’ve all heard about the Protestant work ethic. What we do is who we are. And yet, it’s one of the most common laments I hear from people, parishioners and clergy alike. We’re doing too much. We’re tired. We’ve bought into the myth that our identity is based on what we accomplish and if we don’t accomplish anything, then we don’t know who we are.
Actually, we don’t know who anyone is without an idea of what they do. Get on any airplane and after exchanging names and where you’re from, the next question will most likely be, “What do you do?” (Sometimes I actually prefer this to happen early on in the conversation because if I’ve been talking with someone for a while before they find out I’m a minister, I always see that same look of horror flash across their faces as they quickly think back on what they’ve said to me, hoping they didn’t use any bad words. Of course, once they get to know me a little better, they realize they didn’t need to worry about that.)
Our doing is who we are. And so it’s not surprising that Peter wanted to do something! But God, apparently is having none of it because as Peter is babbling along, the “voice from the cloud” interrupts to say, hush! This is my Son. Pay attention to him! Did you get that, Peter? Quit talking and doing, and for once in your life, simply pay attention. Listen!
Of course, the Christian life appropriately includes a lot of doing. Following Christ, on the one hand, means we serve, we love, we give. But sometimes we get so wrapped up in all the doing, even the doing of good and honorable things that we lose the ability simply to be. What’s the most popular hardback book ever sold in America (other than the Bible)? The Purpose-Driven Life. We want to know above all else what we’re supposed to do. And surely there’s a time and place for that. But we get so action-oriented that we often fail, like Peter, to be contemplative, spiritual, grounded and centered in the essential reality of God’s presence in our lives. We neglect the importance of simply standing before and in awe of the mystery of God so that we can be people whose doing has meaning; so that we do what we do with purpose; so that we can sustain all the things we do.
The trick, as with most things, is balance. Knowing when to do and when and just to be. Learning to take our work seriously, but not too seriously. To let go of our need to control, to listen for the voice of God so that we’re not just running around like chickens with our heads cut off. Instead, our holy doing can flow from a being that is formed in awe and wonder of God.
Lent, which begins this coming Wednesday, calls us to rediscover our spirituality, to be, to quit our frantic babbling, and to pay attention. At our Ash Wednesday service in a few days, the ashes that will be placed on our forehead are a reminder of our mortality. We will all die and when we understand that, we may be awakened to a deeper reality that we are more than our physical bodies. We are the very children of God, forgiven, loved, and held. And from that identity we are gifted, called, sent to do God’s work in the world. If we don’t get the being part, then the doing will only be chaotic, frustrated attempts at self-justification or our doing will be grounded in fear and devoid of any joy. If all your doing seems madness and pointless, learn again to behold the mystery, to enter a quiet place of awe.
There will be more than ample opportunity for living out our call to action. But in order to be able to do that, at least for now, at least during Lent, turn things around. Instead of “Don’t just sit there, go out and do something,” say to yourself, “Don’t just go out and do something. Sit there!”
Amen.
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