Rev. Stephen H. Wilkins

Georgetown Presbyterian Church

February 18, 2007

There was a young couple who invited their older minister over for dinner one day. While they were in the kitchen preparing the meal, the pastor asked their son what they were having to eat.

"Goat," said the little boy.

"Goat? Are you sure?" replied the pastor.

"Yep," said the youngster. "I heard Dad say to Mom, ‘Today is just as good as any to have the old goat for dinner.’"

Or how about the time when a family had some guests over for dinner, and the mother asked her young daughter to say the blessing. "What should I say?" asked the young girl. "Just say the prayer I say," replied the mother. And so everybody bowed their heads, and the little girl prayed, "O Lord, why did I invited these people over for dinner?"!

Sometimes we wonder if our children are listening to us. You can rest assured that they are listening when it will cause us the most embarrassment!

Funny thing is, our propensity not to listen doesn’t necessarily end with our children. Often we adults have to hear something several times before it starts to sink in. Listening is a skill that doesn’t always come naturally or easily.

Today is Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. The season began with a voice coming from heaven, and it ends with a voice coming from heaven. At Jesus’ baptism, the voice spoke to Jesus saying, "You are my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased." It was a moment of affirmation of Jesus as he began his public ministry. And now today, on the mount of transfiguration, that same voice speaks once again, this time to Peter, James, and John: "This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him." Again, it is an affirmation of Jesus, but spoken to his followers. And this time, in addition to the affirmation of the mission of Jesus, there is the word of instruction appended to the affirmation: Listen to him.

Listen.

It is such a simple word of instruction, yet such a difficult one to obey: Listen. Peter and the other disciples had heard Jesus say many things, but they still didn’t get it. They could hear, but they had a hard time listening to what Jesus was really saying.

Oh, they heard it loud and clear eight days earlier, when Jesus said that he "must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life." They heard it loud and clear, but they refused to accept it. They wouldn’t listen.

And now on the mount of transfiguration, there is this dazzling display, and Jesus has this conversation with Moses and Elijah right in front of Peter, James, and John. It is a conversation in which Moses and Elijah talk about the impending departure of Jesus. Really, the word that is translated as "departure" is "exodus," and so the parallel with Moses is obvious. This "departure" about which Jesus, Moses, and Elijah converse is the journey that Jesus will take to Jerusalem, a journey that will bring about the redemption of a human race enslaved to sin; but it is also a journey that must include the death of Jesus.

And in response to what he and the others witness, Peter blubbers out a few words about erecting some sort of memorial to this occasion. But he fails to understand the impact of what is taking place. Again, he has not listened.

This is my Son, says the heavenly voice: Listen to him.

Listen.

In a world that prizes accomplishments and emphasizes doing, doing, doing, it is a timely word to us: Listen. Listen to Jesus. Not just hear what he says, but listen, really listen.

Can you do that? Can you fit a little bit of listening into your already over-crowded life?

Listening is not something that comes easily. It’s not something that comes naturally. In a world that says do, do, do, how do you pause so that you can listen? There are in our text this morning three insights that might help us learn to listen, insights gleaned from the example of Jesus.

The first is that to listen, we must be intentional about seeking the time and the space that will enable us to listen. Notice that the story begins as Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up on the mountain to pray. They are going to a quiet, solitary place. Up to this point, they had been surrounded by people—teeming masses of people pressing upon Jesus, seeking a healing touch or a special word. But Jesus is about to embark on the final phase of his ministry. And so as is his custom whenever he is at a critical point in his ministry, Jesus withdraws to a place where he can escape the din of the crowds, so he could listen to God.

Most of us when we think of prayer, our reaction is to talk to God, sometimes babbling endlessly about our own needs, or telling God how we think things ought to be. But the truth is, our talking to God is only half of what prayer truly is. The other half—the part we most neglect—is listening. If you read Luke’s accounts, you get the idea that when Jesus withdraws to pray, most of the time he is listening to what God has to say to him. After Jesus is baptized, Jesus goes off to pray, and it is God’s voice that we hear. Before Jesus calls the twelve disciples, he goes off to pray, and his decision of whom to call as his disciples is a result of his listening to God. And here in the 9^th chapter, as Jesus begins his journey toward Jerusalem, Jesus withdraws to pray, and again there is the sense that Jesus listens.

You see, before we can listen, we have to create an environment that is conducive to listening. We need to withdraw in some way, to find some way of escaping the noise of the world, so that the sound that we hear is God’s voice speaking to us. We need to be able to embrace silence instead of flee it. We need to attune our ears to hearing the voice of God.

Before the time of refrigerators, people used icehouses to preserve their food. Icehouses had walls a foot thick, no windows, and a tightly fitting door. In winter, when lakes were frozen, large blocks of ice were cut, hauled by wagon to the icehouses, and covered with sawdust. Often this ice would last well into the summer. One man lost a valuable watch while working in an icehouse. He searched carefully for it, raking through the sawdust, but did not find it. His fellow workers looked but could not find it. A small boy who heard about the lost watch slipped into the icehouse and a few minutes later emerged with the watch. Amazed, the men asked how he had found it. "I closed the door, lay down in the sawdust, and kept very still," said the boy. "Soon, I heard it ticking."

Listening requires intentionality on our part. We have to work to create conditions that enable us to shut out the competing demands and the noise of the world, so that we can hear the voice of Jesus speaking to us.

The second insight that Jesus gives us is that listening entails attention to the word of God. Do you notice who it is with whom Jesus is conversing in the story of the transfiguration? He’s conversing with Moses and Elijah. Moses, who represents the Old Testament law, and Elijah, who represents the prophets. Together, they represent the largest portion of what would have been the Scriptures of that day. Do you see what’s happening here? In a very real way, Jesus is consulting the scriptures.

Scripture is the word of God. When we let our Bibles collect dust on the coffee table or the bookshelf, we are shutting God’s word out of our lives. Right here, in black and white, we have the opportunity to listen to a word from the Lord. How often do you take advantage of that opportunity? When you read scripture, do you read it simply for intellectual stimulation, or do you read it to listen to what God is saying to you? Do you allow God to speak to you through his word?

The word of God is relevant for you today. Henri Nouwen says that "the word of God is not a word to apply in our daily lives at some later date; it is a word to heal us through, and in, our listening here and now. The questions therefore are: How does God come to me as I listen to the word? Where do I discern the healing hand of God touching me through the word? How are my sadness, my grief, and my mourning being transformed at this very moment? Do I sense the fire of God’s love purifying my heart and giving me new life?"

You have the word of God at your fingertips. What a privilege it is that God has revealed himself to us in this way! I find it a little curious that, in our responsive liturgy after the reading of God’s word, we’re often so drone and monotone in our response:

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Think about what God has given to us, what an awesome thing it is to be able to listen to God simply by opening the pages of the Bible!

THIS IS THE WORD OF THE LORD!!!

THANKS BE TO GOD!!!

Let’s say it like it means something!

The third thing that Jesus shows us about listening is that listening is more than hearing. It also means that we must act upon what we hear. Listening involves obedience to what we hear. Jesus listened to God on the mount of transfiguration. Then he took Peter and the others, and he went down the mountain, so that he could resume his journey toward Jerusalem. You see, in his listening Jesus received confirmation that he must suffer and die. The easiest thing would have been to stay on the mountain and not begin the journey down the road to the cross. But Jesus listened. And hearing God’s word, Jesus knew what he must do.

My friends, when we listen—when we truly listen—we must be willing to be influenced by what we hear. Listening to the Lord means that we must be willing to lay aside our own agendas and instead follow the agenda set by Jesus. Listening, true listening to the Lord, must end in obedience; otherwise, we haven’t really listened, at least not in the sense conveyed by the heavenly voice that said, "This is my Son, whom I have chosen. Listen to him!"

Today we are on the mount of transfiguration. Things are pretty glorious and exciting. But Wednesday we embark on a journey toward Easter. It is a journey that will end in glory. But it is also a journey that will take us through Good Friday and the cross. As we travel that road with Jesus, will you listen to him?

When Jesus is tempted in the wilderness, will you listen to him?

When Jesus is filled with sorrow for the condition of his own people, will you listen to him?

When Jesus talks plainly about our sinfulness and need for repentance, will you listen to him?

When Jesus tells us about the grace of God that is like that of a father who runs out to greet his lost son, will you listen to him?

When Jesus is anointed by a forgiven prostitute, will you listen to him?

And when Jesus enters Jerusalem, and when he shares his last meal with his disciples, and when he stands before Pilate, and when he cries out from the cross, will you listen to him?

And when he speaks, not so much with words as with the emptiness of a tomb, will you listen to him?

My friends, as we are about to embark on the season of Lent, know that we are entering what is perhaps the most important season of the church year. Throughout this journey, let the words of this morning’s text ring out in a clarion call: This is my Son, whom I have chosen. Listen to him!

Amen.