Sermon Text: 2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Date: February 11, 2024
Event: The Transfiguration of Our Lord, Year B
2 Corinthians 4:3-6 (EHV)
But even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled among those who are perishing. 4In the case of those people, the god of this age has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from clearly seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is God’s image.
5Indeed, we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. 6For the God who said, “Light will shine out of darkness,” is the same one who made light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the person of Jesus Christ.
The Light of God’s Love Shines in Our Hearts!
This past Sunday evening I did some rounds on campus with a flashlight. I was looking to make sure things were in good order during the storm, no giant branches down, no gutters clogged and overflowing, hill tarps still (mostly) where they were supposed to be. As I came back up to the parking lot area I took a moment to look at the lights in the parking lot and two things came to my mind at once: 1) How much nicer and brighter it is in the parking lot at night with the new lights we installed about a year ago and 2) how pitiful even those nice new lights are compared to when it’s day time, even on a heavily overcast day as Sunday was.
Light is important, and darkness is dangerous. I know many of our members lost power for some time in the last week and a half, and if that happened to be after the sun went down, you know how darkness can transform even a familiar place into an unfamiliar one, a place that goes from comfortable to maybe a bit scary and treacherous.
How much more would this have been true in the ancient world! Without light at night beyond the moon and what a lamp or candle flame could provide, the darkness was even more debilitating for them than it can be for us. And so it’s no surprise that Scripture is filled with light/dark analogies, where the light is the positive thing, and darkness is the negative thing. Light is safe; darkness is dangerous.
In our Second Reading we have one of those analogies, and a fitting one to consider on this Transfiguration Sunday. As Paul is writing to the Corinthians in his second New Testament letter, he faces some challenges. One is that his travel plans have changed, so he’s not been able to come to Corinth as initially hoped and planned. This may seem somewhat trivial, but the second problem is that Paul had enemies in the Corinthian congregation who tried to bad mouth and speak poorly of him to lessen his impact, reach, and importance. These travel plan changes were just fuel for the fire to make the point that Paul could not be trusted. The congregation wrestled with factions and allegiances to different teachers; for some, Paul was seen as unreliable.
As Paul gets into the heart of this letter just before our reading for this morning, he spends a lot of time reminding the Corinthians that this gospel message and its associated ministry isn’t about any specific messenger; it’s about God who gave the message. In the verses immediately following our Second Reading, Paul goes so far as to downplay the importance of any gospel messenger, or at least their worth and standing on their own: We hold this treasure in clay jars to show that its extraordinary power is from God and not from us (2 Corinthians 4:7). He calls gospel messengers clay jars. Not exactly glowing praise. Rather than getting into a competition to prove who was the greatest teacher, he comes down on the side that all of them are fragile and helpless on their own, and without God’s grace, they are nothing.
That’s not a message that the world looks for or something impressive to people from a worldly point of view. Who gets the most attention? The people who can capture it and hold on to it, those who have the charisma to gather a crowd and keep it. If you have things that draw people to you and want that following, you don’t hide those qualities. And if you don’t have those qualities, you might not expect to get much of a following.
And this is where God does things so very differently, even the opposite of what we would expect him to do. Paul often talks about how he was not a good speaker and he was far less eloquent in person than he was in his letters. One would think that God chose dynamic speakers to spread his gospel message, but that’s often not true.
But if that’s true for the gospel messengers, it’s even more true for Jesus. Throughout this Epiphany season, we've seen that Jesus’ true nature had to be revealed bit by bit because it wasn’t self-evident. The worship of the Wise Men, the testimony of the Father at his baptism, and the demonstrations of authority in teaching and healing and driving out demons all led people to understand that Jesus was more than he appeared. Because he appeared to be just like everyone else, just a guy, a normal person. But the reality was that this was God in human flesh.
But the hidden nature of what’s happening with Jesus doesn’t stop there. What looks like the weakest, most miserable defeat at the cross is the most powerful victory ever won by conquering sin, death, and hell. The most permanent resting place—the tomb—becomes the site of a brief respite for his body before his resurrection. You wouldn’t have guessed any of this by looking at Jesus. You couldn’t have dreamed up this plan for God to save us from sin, but here it is.
And this is why Paul is so eager to downplay himself and hype up Jesus. Paul doesn’t matter, Peter doesn’t matter, faithful servants of the gospel throughout the world of all times do not matter. What matters is Jesus. What matters is his forgiveness that he won, the victory he won in apparent defeat, the strength he proved in what looked to be an utter weakness. Indeed, we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.
At Jesus’ transfiguration, we have a pulling back of the curtain for Peter, James, and John. They're in shock as they see Jesus in a state of glory that they have never witnessed before. As they share the same hilltop with the legendary messengers of the Old Testament, Moses and Elijah, they are completely overwhelmed. What does this scene show? Nothing in this came from these men. Peter, James, and John brought nothing to this scene or gave Jesus any of his influence or power. This is completely one-sided. The one gleaming like lightning, the one soon to be stripped and flogged and mocked and crucified, he is the one through whom all blessings and everything good flow. What Peter? What is James? What is John? Honestly, what is Moses or Elijah? Nothing without God’s love, both in prominence and eternal safety.
I don’t know if you wrestle with pride, of thinking you’re kind of God’s gift to the world or even that God should be thankful to have someone like you among his church, but if that’s a thought that comes to mind at times, let’s lay those thoughts at the cross. The hyperbole and sinful pride that thinks we have something to contribute and that we can give God something that he needs should be crucified in us. It is a total misunderstanding of the relationship we have with God, a total distortion of the epiphany we’ve had about who Jesus actually is.
Because if I get too cocky and self-assured, if I become too stuck on myself or think that God must be really grateful to have me among his people, I do well to consider how I got here in the first place. And I’m not talking about being a pastor and serving our congregation; I’m talking about simply being a Christian, someone who clings to Jesus as the solution to sin. How did that happen? Well, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t a choice I made, nor was it a special spark I had in me or something, even ever-so-small, that I contributed to my spiritual state. No, on my own, there is only the darkness of sin and unbelief. That’s what I bring to the table—nothing good or useful or worthwhile at all.
But Paul reminds us how we got where we are: For the God who said, “Light will shine out of darkness,” is the same one who made light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the person of Jesus Christ. The one who was able to call the literal light into existence with his voice at the beginning of time is the one who made the light of faith shine in your heart and mine through that same voice. Whether it was the Word read, shared, or proclaimed, or perhaps the Word connected to the water of the most joyous adoption of Baptism, God spoke, and it came to be. God spoke, and the light shone in our hearts. God spoke our faith into existence; by him alone, we cling to Jesus as our Savior.
And maybe your wrestling isn’t with pride; maybe it’s with self-loathing. Maybe you embrace that message of the law and don’t often hear the gospel. Maybe you think you are worthless and a failure and someone God should not spend any time on because you’re beyond hope. The faith that God gives to you allows you to see yourself in a different light, to see yourself not as a worthless failure, but as someone so precious, so important to God, that he was willing not only to die for you to forgive every sin but also to come to you and speak this faith into your heart.
Your worth doesn’t come from how good you are, nor is your value calculated on your failures. Your worth is shown most clearly in all God was willing to do to save you.
And this faith, the light of God’s love, reveals mysteries. We can see reality that we couldn’t see before because things are lit rather than being shrouded in darkness. You can look at Jesus and not just see a kind man, a popular preacher, or someone patient under the most severe suffering. By the light of God’s love, by the faith he has called into being in your heart, you see Jesus as your Savior, as the one who rescued you from every sin, including any potential sins of pride and self-righteousness or self-loathing and self-hatred. You have the complete rescue from sin because Jesus has completely rescued you. You do not stumble about in darkness; you walk in the light of God’s forgiveness.
That means you can see! You can see what God has done for you. You can see that he loves you and that he loves the world. And you can see what it cost him. Keep this light in mind as we begin our journey into Lent’s quieter, more solemn days this Wednesday. It’s going to look and feel pretty dark. The Garden of Gethsemane, the midnight trial with the Sanhedrin, the dark ignoring of the truth with Pontious Pilate, and the darkened sky at Jesus’ crucifixion will all communicate a message different than reality. The darkness will not win; Jesus, the light of the world, will triumph.
Cherish that light God has placed into your heart. Cling to your bright Savior as the complete and only solution to the darkness of sin and hell. Rejoice that God has not kept this hidden from you but has given you his love in Jesus, our Savior. Alleluia! Amen.
