Beneath the Veil

Transfiguration Sunday
Exodus 34:29-35
Luke 9:28-36

Back when Melissa and I were first married, after we had bought our first little house, we used to spend quite a bit of time watching various home repair and decorating shows. And one of our favorites was a show on TLC called Trading Spaces. If you’re not familiar with it, here’s how it goes: Usually there will be two sets of neighbors who have houses next to each other. They sign up to be on the show together. Then the Trading Spaces team comes in: designers, carpenters, other professionals. For 48 hours the neighbors switch houses and work with their assigned designers to redecorate one or two rooms for their neighbors. The trick is that the neighbors have no idea and no say into what’s going on in their own house. They have to trust that their neighbors and the Trading Spaces designers will make good choices and give them a new room that they will like.

At the end of the show is the moment of truth. The host blindfolds one of the families and takes them into their house that has been newly redecorated. Then, with the cameras rolling, they remove the blindfolds, and the family gets the first glimpse at their new space. Sometimes they are excited, jumping up and down, overwhelmed with joy. Other times they are simply speechless as they realize that their house has been ruined.

They call that part of the show “the reveal.” Now, those of you who know me know that I like words and understanding the deeper meanings behind words. So it may not surprise you that every time they talked about “the reveal,” it drove me absolutely bonkers. The word reveal is a verb. For example: I am about to reveal something to you. It is not a noun, so it is impossible for Trading Spaces to have “the reveal.” The word that they are looking for, the word that describes the moment when something is revealed or unveiled, the word that they should have used — is revelation.

Now, it’s not too hard to understand why they don’t have a Trading Spaces Revelation. We usually only use “revelation” in a religious context. Sometimes we talk about revelation when we mean that God spoke directly to an individual, in some sort of audible voice, but most of the time when we talk about revelation, we mean the Book of Revelation, the last book of the bible. And so when we think revelation, we usually think about the end of the world.

It’s even worse when we go back to the Greek word for revelation: apocalypse. It’s impossible to mention the word apocalypse without thinking of some sort of cosmic battle or a scene from some disaster movie. But in fact apocalypse is something quite different. It literally means “to pull back the veil.” It has the sense of pulling a curtain aside, of revealing something that had always been there, but was hidden until now. It actually has the sense of that moment at the end of Trading Spaces, “the reveal”, when homeowners see their new home for the first time.

The bible lessons for today tell us about two different revelations, both occurring on the top of a mountain. In the first, on Mount Sinai, Moses receives a revelation of the law of God, the ten commandments, which he brings back down to the people in the valley. The direct experience of God is so profound that there is a lingering manifestation on his face. Moses’ face shines with the glory of God even long after he comes off the mountain. It’s a bit too much for the people. They don’t want to be that close to God’s presence. And so for their sake, Moses puts a veil on his face. He hides the shine of God’s glory. He veils that which had been unveiled, because it is simply too much for the people to bear.

The other revelation occurs more than a thousand years later on some nameless mountain in the Galilee. Jesus has been teaching his disciples and telling them that he will soon be leaving. Now he takes three of his closest disciples up onto the mountain to pray. And it is then that the revelation occurs. Jesus’ face starts to shine with the brightness of the sun, and his clothes become gleaming white. Moses and Elijah appear and speak with him. What the disciples see on that mountain is the heavenly Jesus, the cosmic Christ. His deeper nature is revealed to them for the first time. It had always been there, but they couldn’t see it. The experience is so profound, Luke tells us, that the disciples don’t tell anyone what they saw until after Jesus is raised from the dead.

In both these cases, these incredible revelations of the presence of God provoke fear and confusion. People don’t know how to deal with these invasions of the divine into our human world. Put the veil back on, make things go back to normal, is often the response.

In the Celtic Christian tradition they talk about thin places. The idea is that the human world and the divine world are continuously existing at the same time and in the same places, but most of the time we are not able to perceive the divine world. We go about our lives never realizing that we are in the presence of the holy. However, there are some place, thin places, where the veil between the human world and the divine world are particularly thin. In these places it is easier to see the holy, easier to cross the barrier between human and divine, easier to perceive the sacredness that is always present, but usually missed.

Those mountaintops in the past were thin places, places where the presence of God was especially evident. Moses was able to see beyond the veil, to receive the revelation of God’s good law. Peter and James and John saw the manifestation of Christ’s divine nature, which they had never noticed before.

So where are our thin places? Where are those times and spaces where the veil is pulled back, and for a moment we get a glimpse of the divine? Is it in the awe-inspiring sights and sounds of nature? Is it in the sonorous chords of the songs of faith? Is it in the simple pleasure of honest labor? Is it at the bedside of the sick and dying? Is it in the struggle for justice? Is it the strong bonds of friendship and family?

Yes, and in many other places. But when we come to those thin places, how will we react? Will we struggle quickly to put back the veil, to shield our eyes from God’s glory? Will we convince ourselves that it’s not real, that it’s all in our heads? Will we simply be to busy and distracted to even notice? Or will we allow those experiences of the holy to take hold of us, to change us, to transform us? Will we allow that peak beneath the veil to inspire us to new levels of faith and devotion? Will we catch God’s dream for our life and be made forever new?