Sermon 2/23/2020: Bring Your Whole Self (Seminarian Melissa Hrdlicka)

Seminarian Melissa Hrdlicka

Transfiguration of Our Lord

February 23, 2020

Bring Your Whole Self

Do you remember the last time you were waiting for big news? Maybe the results of a job interview, college or grad school application? The distracting anticipation you felt as you sat beside your phone or mailbox and were constantly refreshing your email?

And then, finally, the day came! You got the letter, email, call. How did you react? Did you rush to the shredder with your rejection letter? Or did you grab the phone to tell your loved ones the good news? Or did you just sit quietly with yourself and ponder how this news would change your life?

Today, at the top of a mountain, Jesus has some big news for us. A big revelation. And he doesn’t get the reaction he might have been expecting.

6 days before coming to the mountaintop, Jesus reveals to his disciples that he will endure great suffering, meaning Jesus knows he will die. Peter denies this, he can not bear to think of Jesus suffering and Jesus responds, “Get behind me Satan!” This is not the reaction Jesus was hoping for from Peter.

Now again, at the top of the mountain, Jesus is transfigured before the three disciples. In Jesus transfiguration there is bright light, his face shines and his clothes are dazzling. God calls out from the clouds and proclaims, “This is my beloved with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him.” This is the same proclamation made at Jesus’ baptism but God adds: Listen to him. As in, listen to his prediction of his death to come.

Now, I’m willing to bet that, the last time you revealed big news to people, God did not call out from the clouds proclaiming, “Listen to them!” But maybe, like the disciples, they didn’t react quite the way you wanted them to.

In this case, Peter again wants to deny the suffering and keep Jesus safe at the top of this mountain in a dwelling place. Out of hospitality, Peter offers to build a dwelling place or a tent at the top of the mountain for them. “It is good that we are here,” he says. Peter loves Jesus and wants to be hospitable and protect Jesus.

But keeping Jesus on the top of this mountain in a dwelling, would prevent him from serving the greater community at the bottom of the mountain. It would keep Jesus from teaching, healing, and yes, dying on the cross for the forgiveness of the sins. It would keep Jesus from being the messiah. 

My junior year of college was marked by two revelations: I am called to be a pastor, and I am bisexual. In that year of college, I wrestled with discerning my call and understanding I am attracted to same and different genders. These two God-given identities make me a whole person, but I was only willing to give being a pastor to the world.

When I told my friends and family, they all responded, “Yea, we knew that already” and have cheered me on the whole way.

But I was afraid of what would happen if I told people I am bi. So, like Peter, I created a dwelling place, or a closet, that I thought would protect me from potential negative responses.

Would my family and friends believe me? Understand me? Love me? Or would they joke, like so many had, “Bi today, gay tomorrow! It’s just a phase”

Would the world love me? Book-ending the year of my revelation was the passing of the Equal Marriage Act and the Pulse Nightclub shooting in Orlando. I could marry who I wanted, but I just might be killed for it.

Would the church love me? After all, I know so many folx in the LGBTQIA+ community still waiting for a call. “You’re a great preacher” they say, “but we just can’t imagine someone like you in the pulpit.” Similar words have been said to women, people of color, and disabled people.

Giving the world all of me was too high a risk to take. I could serve the church as a pastor but not with my whole self. Just like Peter wants Jesus to be the Messiah, but not if it means suffering. But Jesus knows it would take his whole self to serve the world.

In order for me to fulfill my call as a pastor, I will need my whole self. God doesn’t want just part of me--the parts of me that I deem good enough, holy enough--God delights in all of me. Being bi isn’t what makes me a better pastor, it’s what makes me who I am--a beloved, called, capable, lovable, whole child of God. And when I feel whole, I feel transfigured into who God calls me to be.

It is terrifying to be vulnerable. It is terrifying to give of yourselves to God and to your communities. But God bends down, touches you on the shoulder and calls to you, “Get up and do not be afraid.” Get up and do not be afraid to bring your whole, beloved, capable and lovable self to God and to this world.

As Marianne Williamson says, “Your playing small does not serve the world...we are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; It’s in everyone.”

When you bring your whole self, you are transfigured into the person God has been calling you to be since before the day of your baptism.

“Get up and do not be afraid.” You are God’s beloved.

At this communion table, your whole self is welcome. At this coffee table, your whole self is welcome. In this church and in this community, your whole self is welcome.

“Get up and do not be afraid.” You are God’s beloved.

In this church, at these tables, you can bring your joys and your pains; fears and passions; good news and bad news. Every facet of your identity that makes you whole is welcome here.

“Get up and do not be afraid.” You are God’s beloved.

When you let your light shine, you give others permission to do the same. When you are liberated from your own fear, you automatically liberate others.

“Get up and do not be afraid.” You are God’s beloved.

Step outside your dwelling place, come to the bottom of the mountain. God is calling to you and this community loves you. God and this community is waiting to rejoice with you in the good news, and cry with you in the bad news.

So what are you waiting for?

“Get up and do not be afraid.” You are God’s beloved.

Amen.