Scripture:
​Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16 (Common English Bible)
Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don’t see. The elders in the past were approved because they showed faith.
By faith we understand that the universe has been created by a word from God so that the visible came into existence from the invisible.
By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was going to receive as an inheritance. He went out without knowing where he was going.
By faith he lived in the land he had been promised as a stranger. He lived in tents along with Isaac and Jacob, who were coheirs of the same promise. He was looking forward to a city that has foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
By faith even Sarah received the ability to have a child, though she herself was barren and past the age for having children, because she believed that the one who promised was faithful. So descendants were born from one man (and he was as good as dead). They were as many as the number of the stars in the sky and as countless as the grains of sand on the seashore. All of these people died in faith without receiving the promises, but they saw the promises from a distance and welcomed them. They confessed that they were strangers and immigrants on earth. People who say this kind of thing make it clear that they are looking for a homeland. If they had been thinking about the country that they had left, they would have had the opportunity to return to it. But at this point in time, they are longing for a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God isn’t ashamed to be called their God—he has prepared a city for them.

Suddenly they saw him the way he was, the way he really was all the time, although they had never seen it before, the glory which blinds the everyday eye and so becomes invisible. This is how he was, radiant, brilliant, carrying joy like a flaming sun in this hands… and there on that mountain they saw him, really saw him, saw his light.                         
          - Madeleine L’Engle

READING:
“This isn’t pie in the sky by and by. Some of you who are standing here are going to see it happen, see the kingdom of God arrive in full force.” Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus. Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing. Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.”  The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus. Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.”
                                         - Mark 9.1b-9 (The Message)

REFLECTION:
Those lucky disciples: Peter, James, and John! Jesus invited them to a high and lonely mountain, and there they saw him, really saw him, for the first time. They were offered something precious; a vision, a glimpse of Jesus as he truly is. But it didn’t last. Even before they descended the mountain the vision faded, and they found themselves rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus; no shimmering, no glistening white, just Jesus, a peasant artisan turned teacher with whom they had traveled many dusty roads. There was really no reason for Jesus to swear them to secrecy. By the time they reached the valley his glory, as L’Engle expresses it, had become invisible.

This scene as it unfolds begs the question; what good was the vision? Why bother if it didn’t abide, transforming their lives as they saw it again and again in the following days. The real Jesus had finally shown up, only to disappear again. A vision on a mountain is one thing, but a vision in the valley – smack dab in the middle of daily life – now that would be something! That would change things.

Perhaps the vision was available in the valley, not obscured by the dust they kicked up on their journey. Perhaps there was shimmering and glistening if only they had the eyes to see. Shimmer in the eyes of the one grateful leper who returned to thank Jesus; or a glistening aura emanating from a scene in which Jesus, or even one of the disciples, reached out in compassion to one in need.

This is an important “perhaps” for our faith, because we don’t have the slightest chance of climbing the mountain and seeing the Christ revealed in glory. But perhaps we can “Take the mountain to Muhammad,” as the expression goes. Perhaps we can see the Christ in our everyday experience, if only we have the eyes to see. What would be the circumstances in which we caught a glimpse of the Christ and were ourselves transformed? What type of experience might afford us such a vision of glory? We will consider such questions on Sunday. We hope to see you then.

The theme that will guide our reflection during this Lenten season is simple; “Faith Is Living… On The Way.” It’s only simple, however, if you assume that faith and the way are two different things. Faith is belief in God, and the way is the path we will follow to reach our goal. During Lent, this goal is Easter; overall this goal is heaven. Voila! Done and done.

But what if faith and the way are identical? What if faith is defined by its journey? “Now you’re just being silly,” you say? “That would put our theme somewhere between obscure and paradoxical… no help at all!” Nevertheless, there is precedent for the identification of faith and the way. Consider that the early Christian community did not refer to itself as Christian, but rather as The Way. They referred to themselves as followers of Jesus on the way. And you don’t get off the hook just by saying that faith as the way is obscure or even paradoxical. There is much in our faith that is obscure, and some that is over-the-top paradoxical. For example, consider God as “One in three and three in one,” or Jesus as “Truly God and truly human,” or “To save your life you only have to lose it,” or… well, the list could go on and on.

Humor me for a moment and consider what faith would look like if it was defined by its journey; if faith and the way were identical. Firstly, it would mean that faith is a verb; something we do, not something about which we hold an opinion. And it would mean that we would choose those with whom we fellowship less on what they believe to be true, and more on what their lives show to be true. And it throws the focus back onto our lives today. That is to say, the goal of faith is not to get to heaven; it’s not to bide our time through this warm-up act, waiting for the truly real to come along. No; faith as journey means that this life matters. God has the eternal covered, we need not fret about that. Rather, we are called to follow the way of Jesus. And that friends, is quite a journey. A journey to God in God’s presence, as one scholar has put it.

On Sunday we will begin an inquiry into what faith as a journey means for our personal and spiritual lives, and the way we look at our day-by-day living. I hope you will join us at 8:30 (classic worship) or 10:30 (creative worship). 

Scripture: Revelation 1:4-8 (CEB)
Grace and peace to you from the one who is and was and is coming, and from the seven spirits that are before God’s throne, and from Jesus Christ—the faithful witness, the firstborn from among the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
To the one who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, who made us a kingdom, priests to his God and Father—to him be glory and power forever and always. Amen.
Look, he is coming with the clouds! Every eye will see him, including those who pierced him, and all the tribes of the earth will mourn because of him. This is so. Amen. “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “the one who is and was and is coming, the Almighty.”

Reflection:  Can you believe November is half over?  Can you believe we are coming to the close of another year?  Can you believe the end of that year is just a couple weeks away?  

What's that you say?  The end of the year is more than just two weeks away - that can't be right!  Well, no, when we are talking about the calendar, we still have about 6 weeks until we begin a new year, 2015.  However, within the church, we begin the celebration of a new church year during Advent, November 30.  That also means that on our last Sunday of "Ordinary Time" within the church calendar, that we recognize The Reign of Christ Sunday, THIS Sunday, November 16!

Reign of Christ ends our marking of Ordinary Time, worship following Pentecost, and moves us to the threshold of Advent, the season of hope for Christ’s coming, both as a babe, and again at the end of time.

The day centers on the crucified and risen Christ, who God exalted to reign over the whole universe. The celebration of the lordship of Christ takes us back to look at the ways that Christ rules in our lives both in seasons of life, and in seasons of the church year.  

Christ reigns supreme in all parts of our lives.  As the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, Christ is the center of the universe, the ruler of all history. In Christ all things began, and in Christ all things will be fulfilled.  As ruler, Christ calls us to a loyalty that transcends every earthly claim on the human heart. Christ calls us to stand with those who in every age, and in every season, confessed, “Jesus Christ is Lord!”

How does Christ reign supreme in your life?  Join us on Sunday as we ponder the ways that Christ rules in our lives, and the ways that we can more fully seek Christ's sovereignty in our lives.