Lent 2: Holding On and Letting Go
copyright Annie Lengacher Browning
February 28, 2010

Luke 9:28-36
Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, ‘Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah’—not knowing what he said. 34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ 36When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

CNN reported in mid-January that the movie “Avatar” may be a little too real for some fans, who have reported depression and suicidal thoughts after seeing the film because of an intense longing to enjoy the beauty of the world of Pandora.

On a fan forum site, over 1,000 posts have been logged of people experiencing depression after seeing Avatar and there has been mutual support on the forum for how to cope with these feelings.

Steven Lang, one of the actors in the movie, remarked that "Pandora is a pristine world and there is the synergy between all of the creatures of the planet and I think that strikes a deep chord within people that has a wishfulness and a wistfulness to it."

I have not seen Avatar, but I did consult with my youngest brother, who has seen it multiple times. He said that the graphics and effects are incredible, and it is an experience of another reality. It does draw you in and captivate you.

This morning we read the account of the Transfiguration, a description of a mountaintop, other reality sort of experience, in which the setting suddenly changes, dazzles, and delights.

Jesus's faces changes and his clothes become as bright as a flash of lightening. Moses and Elijah appear in glorious splendor. The vision is one of wonder, so much so that Peter says to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters –one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.”

It sounds like a biblical account of Avatar.

And it is vision in stark contrast from the world that Peter, James and John have just left before climbing the mountain. One of dust, crowds, stress, neediness and poverty.

It is innate to want to capture and contain the mountain top, transfiguration experiences.  The wonder of the mystical world of Pandora in Avatar. The glory of a new epiphany, metamorphosis, or break through.

And Peter, by suggesting that they build three dwellings, is also wanting to capture the moment, hold on to the place, commemorate the time. That they could somehow make the experience an ongoing reality, not just a mystical experience that seemed distant and removed.

Peter does not get to build his dwellings. Instead they are overcome by a cloud, whisking away the vision of Elijah and Moses, and disorienting them in a haze of terror with the command to “Listen!”.

It is the same experience that happens at the end of a movie like Avatar.

We realize that our shoes are now stuck to the floor by the stream of soda that is pooled at our feet. That we have popcorn in our hair and greasy, buttery fingers. And that there are just credits rolling at the end of the story while we look around at the other bleary eyed moviegoers who looked a bit more glamorous in the flickering light of the screen.

And so, in our Biblical text's next scene, they also are back to a large crowd of dust, stress, neediness, poverty in the form of boy in convulsions, foaming at the mouth, in need of healing.

A sudden jolt of reality.

Or as Joan Chittister writes, “ At the very moment, when it would seem that Jesus is emphasizing the mystical and transcendent dimension of religion, Jesus himself takes the apostles away from visions, away from privatized religion, to meet the ones who needed them most in the town.”

A let down.

We often experience these life cycles that represent more of a pendulum swing of high, low, high than an actual full cycle.
We have a significant experience, one of those catalytic ones, of immense shock or opportunity. We feel purposeful, committed, alive, rejuvenated, energized.

And then we often come down off the mountain and experience the loss, resistance, struggle, questions, the sense of leaving something behind, emptiness.

And this can become a bit of a cycle of holding on, letting go, and then holding on again, looking for our original mountain experience. 

Or in the context of Peter, James and John, they move off the mountain back into their work, but did they really get the mountain top? Grasp it and integrate it? Were they transfigured as well?

They continue to hold on to the vision that Jesus will be an image of royalty and power. That he will emit the dazzle, grandeur and wonder of that mountain top again.

And they are somewhat disappointed by this throughout the rest of his ministry. For, he only continues to bring about more crowds, dust, neediness and poverty.

We often hold and and let go and then re-hold on again. Like a yo-yo trick, it's easy to hold on, let go, and then hold on again to what is most comfortable.

What is most challenging is to actually do an around the world where we move from a state of “coming down the mountain” into a completely new mountain top of integration again.

It is a spiritual challenge to really complete the cycle and not just vacillate between holding on and letting go of experience. To truly move through disintegration into a new place of integration again.

Knowing that  original experience of something may look entirely different on the other end of transfiguration. That it is another reality.

It is reality to complete a spiritual cycle and not just vacillate between holding on and letting go of an experience. To truly move through disintegration and integration again.

To know that the original experience is released. The original experience may be transfigured into an other reality that looks entirely different on the other end.

Peter, James and John get a clue of this reality, but they cannot see it because of the two polarities that they swing between. Who they experienced Jesus to be on the mountain top. And who he really is at the bottom.

And the lack of reality in between that they have carried with them.

On the mountain, Jesus appears with Moses, Elijah, the prophets. Moses, who led the people out of oppression; Elijah, who warned against false and true gods. Neither are images of prosperity or success. Rather, it seems the way down the mountain is divergent from the top.

And so throughout Jesus' ministry, we hear the expected yearning that he will be what they saw in terms of Jesus aglow on the mountain top instead of the dingy carpenter on the bottom.

I often wonder what would have happened had the disciples carried this experience fully into the dusty crowds and allowed the actual experience to be transfigured.

The possibility of what might be a new point of integration that moved beyond just holding on and letting go actually into an integrated reality.

It would have been as Meister Eckhart writes, a way in which “the eye with which we look back at God will be the same eye that first looked at us.” That the experience would stand on its own.

Or in other words, “All we can really do is return the gaze” of our experiences of God.

Mountaintop or valley. Aglow or dusty.

Instead of trying to capture or contain the moments of dazzle and delight, we simply allow them to be part of our shining faces turned outward. We return the gaze.

Instead of trying to hold on to or nail down the moments of cloud and wonder, we simply allow them to  be as they are and glow for what they are. We return the gaze.

Instead of trying to house and protect the moments of epiphany and glory, we simply allow them to float expansively in and among us. We return the gaze.

I am reminded of Saint Augustine's words in the 5th century, “If you understand it, then it is not God.”

If we understand something fully, like transformation, then we capture it, own it, control it enough so that we also have permission and power to let it go.

And the minute we attempt to hold on or let go too tightly, we quickly find ourselves, like the disciples, in a cloud of confusion with the vision dissipating all around us. The bottom of the mountain a far cry from the top and little remaining within us from the glory that we once experienced.

All we can really do is return the gaze of the glory that is shown in our lives. To accept the love, the grace, the joy, the abundance, the kindness and all the goodness shown to us. And to hold it with open palms and shining faces. Returning the gaze to that which is around us.

For to hold on to love, grace, joy, abundance, kindness, goodness is to own it as my own. And to limit it as my own. That which I can parcel out in well-measured quantities. That which I can choose how or when to release or let go of.
Allowing our gaze to soften and return the glow is earthly reality, and it is then that we discover a gaze being returned to us in an unexpected way.

If you read further in the CNN Avatar article, what I found most interesting is what many of the fans are finding helpful in emerging from an Avatar depression.

As one fan wrote,"After discussing on the forums for a while now, my depression is beginning to fade away. Having taken a part in many discussions concerning all this has really, really helped me. Before, I had lost the reason to keep on living -- but now it feels like these feelings are gradually being replaced with others."

Within the fan community, suggestions for battling feelings of depression after seeing the movie include things like playing "Avatar" video games or downloading the movie soundtrack, in addition to encouraging members to relate to other people outside the virtual realm and to seek out positive and constructive activities.

Most report that after re-engaging with others their depression has subsided.

Or they discovered the shining face of Avatar already present among them in the reality of this world. A gaze being returned to them in an unexpected way. Avatar being integrated and transfigured.

Part of being community together is returning the gaze to one another while holding it loosely so that it becomes an integrated part of who we are in this world. That our shining faces of Sunday morning radiate into Monday through Friday.

It is soaking in the experience of transfiguration in a porous and superfluous way, so that we make room for the abundance of transfiguration that is all around us, waiting to surround us with a cloud of glory, wonder and delight.

For this is earthly reality. This is what it means to be human. This is what it means to return the gaze through dusty crowds. To return the gaze from mountain to valley and beyond.

This is what it means to be the reality of God. The returned gaze among us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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