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Micah 6:1-8

Psalm 15

1 Corinthians 1:18-31

Matthew 5:1-12  

Sermon by Joel Crouse

Around the time that Erin and I first met, a hit movie came out called When Harry Met Sally.  For those of you who haven’t seen it, Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal are the stars, who meet when she shares the costs of a drive to their new jobs after college. They bond on the car trip and become close friends – a platonic friendship that extends for year. And then, toward the end of the movie, something changes: Harry sees Sally differently. On New Year’s Eve, in a grand romantic gesture, he races to tell her, in one of the movie’s most famous lines: “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

The friends-to-lovers story is a favourite romance trope. Jane Austen, my partner would say, did it the best. And movies have been copying her ever since. Why does this storyline reel us in so often?

Many people have argued that it’s because these relationships are built on a strong foundation.  They have history.  The people in them stand by each other through difficult times because they respect and admire each other, because they enjoy each other’s presence. The people fall in “like” first, before they make the leap to love. A 2021 study that analyzed a bunch of survey data, found that nearly 70 per cent of romantic relationships begin with friendships. 

The spark was probably always there, but at some point, along the way, one person is transfigured for another; they come to be seen in an entirely different – and happy - light. 

All this to say, it is probably why the disciples didn’t freak out when God claimed Jesus in our gospel this morning, and the teacher and friend they know is transfigured forever right in front of their eyes.

It’s as if the gospel understood we needed the foundation first. The transfiguration of Jesus happens later in the ministry of Jesus. The disciples have already chosen to leave their fishing boats and follow this man into an entirely different life. They have listened to his speeches before crowds about a new way of seeing the world. They have watched him achieve the feeding of the 5,000. They have seen him weary on a dusty road and warmed by their company. And they have just started to wrestle with his dire predictions of the future that awaits him – and realized how much they fear losing him. 

It is only then that God appears, as our gospel tells it, on the mountain, and before the disciples alone, away from the larger crowd. This is an intimate, private moment for the closest friends of Jesus. The gospel says that his face shone and his clothes became bright as light, and his divine glory was revealed. A voice from a cloud says: “This is my Son, my Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.” 

And in that moment, Jesus is transfigured for the disciples. 

But what has changed, really? In the movie When Harry met Sally, both Harry and Sally are the same people they were before the big New Year’s Eve declaration. The only thing that was different was the way they saw each other. Their image of each other had become something else entirely.  As Harry says, Sally became not only someone he leaned on for support and kindness, but someone he needed desperately as a constant, firm, and loving presence in his life.

And isn’t that what the transfiguration is also meant to represent – not just to the disciples on the mountain that day, but also to us. Before this moment, Jesus is a leader and friend, someone they have chosen to follow.  After this moment, Jesus become something more; someone they needed to follow. Because Jesus was not, in fact, the one who was changed on that day; Jesus was always who Jesus was. What changed is the way the disciples saw Jesus. So, in fact, the disciples were the ones who were actually changed; how can you ever see the world in the same way, when God has specifically named your friend as their beloved? Even if you suspected that Jesus was different, someone special, that has now been confirmed. In that moment, for the disciples, there is no going back. They have been transfigured as much as Jesus.

And yet, this is not a burden for them. This moment is joyful. It is a relief. It is clarity. They know they have taken the right path; they have invested in the right person; they are listening to the right lessons. And so, not only is Jesus transfigured, not only are the disciples transfigured, but the gospel itself is also transfigured. 

The transfiguration does not set Jesus apart from us. In the movies, when friends fall in love, they become even closer, more important to each other, they understand each other better. And the transfiguration on the mountain top is meant to do the same: to bring us closer to God, and into a deeper understanding with the divine, into closer solidarity with Jesus and the gospel.

If you have ever fallen in love with a friend – and I know many of you have – you know that after this, everything past, present and future looks different. You see the friendship not as something constant, but as a relationship that was always growing into something larger. You see the present as a gift. And the future as full of possibility. And while life felt at a distance before, you no longer feel alone. 

Jesus the man, becomes the divine on this day. But this is only making official what always was, and was always meant to be. In the end, the light that shines on Jesus is not only for him; it draws the disciples closer, it calls to us here and now. For what else is that shining light but love? We have only to see it. 

Amen

Micah 6:1-8

Psalm 15

1 Corinthians 1:18-31

Matthew 5:1-12  

Sermon by Joel Crouse

In 1999, I was two years into my first parish at Zion Lutheran Church, Pembroke. Reading that sentence again now makes me realize just how long ago that was. That was the year the first Matrix movie came out. I imagine many of you know that movie – it went on to become a big hit. I was a huge fan. And I believe that popular culture can be a powerful tool to shape our values, to build a sense of who we are, and to guide us toward the gospel.

And so, one Sunday, I preached a sermon about the religious symbolism in the movie – the way that Neo was cast as the Christ figure, and Morpheus as his John the Baptist, the power of belief and faith and love to restore their humanity. I was even interviewed by MacLean’s magazine. So of course, the quilters group at Zion decided to organize an outing to see The Matrix, without mentioning it to me. They all went to the movie, expecting to see a religious film. If you have seen The Matrix, you can imagine the interesting conversation I had with some of them when they returned.

This is perhaps a long-winded way to set up my sermon today. But we have another phenomenally popular culture moment happening right now – a story about love and kindness that Canada has delivered to the world, just when we could argue the world needs it most. I suspect many of you will know right away that I am talking about the television show Heated Rivalry. I am certainly hearing lines like “I’m coming to the cottage” and “stupid Canada wolf bird” from a huge fan in my house. Last weekend, I sat down and watched the show with Erin, and now I understand why it has become, as one relationship therapist put it, “like cuddling a soft teddy bear during these difficult times.”

But having learned my lesson from 1999, for those of you who have not seen it, I am attaching a warning: this is a show about two superstar hockey players who secretly fall in love, and it is very explicit. We can ponder whether it is really more explicit than the violent PG-13 action movies we watch with our teenagers, the movies that get PG-13 ratings, but that’s a different conversation. This is only to say, that Heated Rivalry beautifully explores themes central to our gospel this morning. But – just like The Matrix in 1999 – it comes with an ‘R’ rating.

And yet, this unexpected story offers, in a different context, the same eloquent blessings we find in our gospel today. Jesus makes a wide list of those who find themselves in need of help: the poor, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted. And to all of those, Jesus promises comfort and fulfillment and understanding and mercy and love.

In other words, Jesus says, in our times of trial, we will receive a blessing. Jesus does not say how that blessing will come to us, only that God will help us get through whatever we face. Perhaps someone in our midst will come to our aid. Maybe we will find the strength in ourselves to do what is right. Maybe the world will shift, and the sun will shine where it hasn’t before.

A prominent relationship therapist, Esther Perel, suggests that the reason why people are watching and re-watching Heated Rivalry is because it is a “corrective experience” – a counter message to all the harm and hate we see in the world right now. I didn’t quite understand what she meant until I watched it myself: in every episode, because this is TV, and also because this is how shows about the LGBTQ community usually go, you expect something bad to happen. These young lovers will get found out, and their careers will be over. The Canadian hockey player, Shane Hollander, will come out to his parents and be shamed by them. Ilya, the Russian hiding just as much of himself, will suffer more abuse at the hands of his terrible family.

But each time you expect something bad to happen, it doesn’t. As Ms. Perel herself noted, one character gets confused at a press conference, and he is rescued with a quick answer from someone else; another character drops a plate while serving at a fancy event, and isn’t fired; friends who might have abandoned them offer them support and understanding; when Shane finally does come out to his parents, they respond by asking for his forgiveness; when risks are taken, consent is carefully sought; when tears fall, comfort is offered; when love is confessed, it is effusively returned.

It is a show where every time you think someone will act badly, human beings step up to be their best selves, over and over again. And it is clear why people want to live in that kind of aspirational world; because, of course, it is how we all want to be treated in those same moments when we are meek, or poor in spirit, or feeling persecuted, or seeking justice. Watching that show made me feel proud to be a Canadian, to be a citizen of the country that created this show, at this time in the world’s history when the worst of humanity dominates the headlines.

But I wonder if we often miss this part in the Beatitudes, and even in the narrative of Heated Rivalry. We hear those blessings from Jesus, and we see ourselves as the ones needing them. We see parts of ourselves in Shane and Ilya. But take care: because we are also the friends, and the parents and the players around all the Shanes and Ilyas. And we are also called to be blessings for all those named by Jesus in our gospel.

Heated Rivalry reminds us that the world can be so much better than it is right now. But only, if we ourselves are better. And Jesus is promising blessings to those in need at the same time that the gospel is showing us how to be those blessings. The world does not change around us; it changes because of us. And if a show like Heated Rivalry can so unite us across cultures – where in China they are pirating it, and in Russia they are risking huge fines to watch it – then aren’t we also defining the world as we wish it to be?

The beatitudes are God’s promise of Grace. They tell us that things are never hopeless. But they also remind us that we are not helpless. How we walk in the world matters. Who we stand beside in the world matters. How we respond to those in need matters. Indeed, it matters, more than ever. And the more ways we are inspired to be people of the gospel, the better our chances.

In the end, we can return for clarity to that wonderful line in Micah, this line that speaks to the path of every hero and guides us in how to serve the vulnerable, and encapsulates the blessings that Jesus teaches us to offer to others.

“What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice and to love kindness

  and to walk humbly with your God?”

Do justice. Love Kindness. Walk Humbly with God.

Amen

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