Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them. [Matthew 17:1-2a]
           
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The movie Casablanca does it to me every time.

Early in World War II, Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart) is a café-saloon keeper on the coast of Africa. He’s as apathetic as anyone might be, saying that he sticks his neck out for nobody. Then, who walks into his saloon? Ilsa Lund (Ingrid Bergman). She’s with her husband, Victor Laszlo, a famous Czech resistance leader. This unnerves Rick because, back in Paris, he fell in love with Ilsa, who then didn’t show up at the train station when he flees the German invasion force.

Now, in Casablanca, she reappears. After closing time, he sits there with his bourbon, having a pity party, and says: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” It grabs me every time. I’m right there in the story.

That can also happen when we read the Bible. You think you’re opening the Bible just to read a few verses, but no …… no, no, no. The Bible suddenly grabs you by the shirt collar and pulls you right into the story. People too seldom realize that the Bible can have that effect. You think: just a few verses, but …… no, no, no. The passage awakens your imagination, and you’re suddenly right there.

Today, we think we would just hear the story of Jesus, Peter, James, and John walk up a hill, and we’d hear a message about Lent. Then, suddenly, we’re grabbed by the shirt collar again. We’re right there, in the story, but it seems to be more like Easter than Lent. We’re looking on as Jesus transforms, with his face shining bright like the sun and his clothes radiating a white light. We then see a cloud form above and hear a voice announcing Jesus as the beloved Son and that we should listen to him.

Listen to him, we’re told. Jesus, transformed by a bright light, and a voice from above – it terrifies Peter, James, John, you and me, and we fall to the ground in fear. What else could we do? We then hear Jesus saying to us, Rise, and do not be afraid. So, we listen to him, and we rise.

Teenagers, as you move into adulthood, I ask you to keep in mind that that’s what the Bible does to readers or listeners. Try to read just a few verses, but no …… no, no, no. You’re right there, and it becomes your story, too.

And that also happens with bread and wine at this altar. We think: okay, we’ll put a few linens and a chalice there, then add some bread and wine and sing a few acclamations. But no … no, no, no. We’re pulled into the story of a Covenant meal, we’re there with Jesus giving a whole new meaning to a meal as he lifts the bread and raises the chalice  of the Blood of the new and eternal Covenant. Jesus gives himself up for you and me.

This is no mere memory, and we’re not entering a time machine to be transported back to meal, back to the Cross, back to an empty tomb. Instead, the entire Jesus event transcends time, and we find we’re in the moment with Jesus. The Jesus story is your story and my story. We find ourselves in Covenant, in Communion with Jesus shining bright as the sun  and radiating a white light.

Word and Sacrament have that effect on us. In the first reading, we think we’ll hear a few verses about Abram, but, no … no, no, no. We’re there with Abram, putting our full trust in God and heading in the direction God wants us to go.

With the Gospel, we think we’ll hear a few verses about Jesus, Peter, James, and John, but, no … no, no, no. We’re right there, seeing Jesus as more than a mere human, and we know to listen to him.

At this table, we think we’ll use some bread and wine and say a few prayers, but no … no, no, no. Jesus gives himself up for you and me. We’re right there, moving with Jesus through death to life.

Fr. Dave, didn’t that happen to me at baptism? Didn’t I go into and up out of the waters, dying and rising with Jesus? Yes, you sure did. Jesus’ story of dying and rising becomes your story, too. It’s not that you were baptized. Rather, you are baptized.

Sunday to Sunday, Covenanted and Communioned, we live Jesus' dying and rising, because we are there with Jesus.

A thought for Lent. If we give something up for Lent, let’s allow it to point us toward what the Gospel calls us to give up: ourselves.

After all, we choose to follow Jesus Christ, who gives himself up for you and me.