Tag Archives: 2 corinthians 4:3-6

Enlightened?

Lockdown has reminded us – perhaps I should speak for myself – that we fail to get around to things all the time. It is not that I am too busy, because now there is less to do. Nor do I have nothing that I would like to get done. The fact remains that I haven’t done it.

Some of this is trivial, but not all. There are things I want to do and should do, which I haven’t done. Paul suggests in today’s reading from 2 Corinthians 4:3-6 that his opponents are blinded by the “god of this age”. Their bitter opposition to his message and his ministry comes from a blindness to God’s will and activity. It is a blindness formed from compromise and failure, the “hardness of heart” which scripture sometimes speaks of, as repeated failure has dulled people’s perception of the way things are – at least, the way they are seen from heaven.

That’s a sobering thought. Could my failure to tidy up really be linked with an unwillingness to hear and respond to the gospel? It’s not as simple as that. (I don’t think I am pleading self interest here). But the “god of this world” is all around, encouraging greed, pride, harmful competitiveness, as well as the “it doesn’t really matter” and “why should I bother” inertia that lurks for many of us.

Paul talks about the light God separated from darkness at creation. The light of day and night, but also the light of understanding and confusion, of good moral judgement and bad. That light is seen not only in creation, but in Jesus. Is there a reference here to the “Transfiguration” – the time Jesus appeared illuminated in the presence of Moses and Elijah, as well as three disciples? We can’t be sure. But Jesus certainly has the light we need, the way to show up life as it really is when the deceptive adverts and the lazy carelessness are removed. And it is important that our life finds that external illumination if it is to succeed, and even more if it is to offer encouragement and direction pointers to those around.

The thought of being blinded is horrible. Most of us would rather lose other senses, even limbs, than live in a world of blur or darkness. Why is it, then, that we so easily fall to blindness to the things of God? It is worth thinking about – though not as an excuse to doing what we should be doing!

Weird!

Weird! That’s the only word for this story.  (Mark 9:2-9)

Jesus takes three disciples up a mountain – and glows ?!

Yet it is clearly important. All of the first three gospel writers tell it, after Peter’s key recognition of Jesus as Messiah. But even the disciples don’t seem to understand at the time, and we struggle to make sense of it.

I think it helps our focus.  Jesus has done some amazing things – healings and other miracles. His teaching is sometimes puzzling, but popular. The disciples enjoy some of Jesus fame, busy themselves with crowd control, – and haven’t noticed the change that is coming.

Jesus has started to talk about suffering, coming in Jerusalem. His followers seem unable to hear. They are focussed on senior positions with the new King.

Which is what Paul was speaking of in 2 Cor 4:4 “the god of this world has blinded . . to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ”. The Christians gospel is wonderful news, for all sorts of people – and many fail to hear because it does not lead to fame, celebrity, wealth, or simply getting your own way.

For us, like the disciples, freedom and forgiveness seem less than giving love, service and obedience. It is a very normal temptation.

Jesus’ Transfiguration is weird – or, if you prefer, unexpected and unparallelled. He appears in otherworldly light, with the representatives of the Old Testament Law and prophets, to place the Son of God firmly in the sweep of God’s plan. The voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved, listen to Him” underlines the point.

And the disciples need to listen – they have much to learn. Jesus chosen path will per, frighten and test them. They have to know He is the one to follow without hesitation.

And so do we! We read this before Lent. If we think of the cost of Christian faith – what it means to take it seriously, and not just go through the motions – we need confidence Jesus knows what He is doing, and what He asks of us.

Perhaps the Transfiguration was deliberately a weird experience – outside all routine. Perhaps only something strange and bizarre would ready them for a Messiah who also chose to accept the role of Isaiah’s Suffering Servant.

There is always more to faith than meets the eye, more to learn, and we still need to go on learning.