“Thin Places”

Mark 9:2-9

2 Corinthians 4:3-6

February 6, 2005

I was at 37,000 feet over the Atlantic Ocean heading east toward Central Europe. The cabin was dark and quiet. Most of the shades were still pulled as people slept. I was not one of them. My face was pressed against the Plexiglas window looking out into the darkness. The night sky was full of stars, more than I had every seen standing on the earth. Each star was a shining pinpoint of untwinkling light. As the sky started to lighten far in the east, the coast of Europe passed underneath us. The sunrise was coming, but there were no colors of the usual reds and yellows and oranges. Only blues. The atmosphere was too thin to distort the light of the rising sun. As the sun peeked its head over the horizon, the earth below still laid in the shadow of itself. It was truly a breathtaking sight. As if the heavens itself were parting giving me a glimpse of something others were not permitted to see. I was given a glimpse of the work of the divine, of the glory of God.

“The heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork,” says Psalm 19. “Day to day pours forth speech and night to night declares knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.” As I looked out that window at the rising sun, I heard their voice, the sound of their words. I was in that thin place. In that moment when the dividing line between God and humankind becomes so thin that the presence of God is very real. “The heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.” Yes, they do indeed.

This is what the Transfiguration is about. It’s about that thin place, that moment when God’s presence is very real, when the doorway between heaven and earth cracks open just enough for us to catch a glimpse of the light of God’s glory. This is what happened that day on the mountain to the three disciples. They had come to that thin place where the veil was lifted and they saw Jesus for who he really was – the glory of God.

What we have been given in this story from Mark’s gospel is a gift, a special access pass into an intensely private moment between Jesus and God. The only appropriate response to the transfiguration of Jesus is silent awe, for we cannot fully comprehend what has taken place. Even if it is just for a moment, the curtain has been pulled back for us, the veil lifted, the heavenly shroud raised, and we have caught a glimpse into a time and space that is beyond our own. We have caught a glimpse of the divine glory that is normally hidden from our sight. We have caught a glimpse, if only for an instant, of the true identity of the Almighty God who was woven into the fabric of human history, disguised and now revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. Whatever words scholars and commentaries, and even pastors, may use to explain what happened are, in the end, inadequate. Whatever interpretations we may deduce from these events are, in the end, only attempts to give us something concrete and tangible to hold on to. But thin places go beyond conventional wisdom, beyond rational, logical thinking, go beyond the concrete and tangible. We, like the three disciples, can really only stand with our mouths and eyes wide open in silent awe from seeing a glimpse of God. And maybe that is how it is supposed to be.

The truth is that we have witnessed something beyond this world, beyond space and time, as we know it. Our human minds cannot fathom what has taken place before our eyes, but all we know is that something special, something spectacular, something mysterious, something divine as taken place.

Have you ever experienced that thin place? That place where the veil is lifted just for a moment and you see with a new vision, with a new clarity? As if you were no longer earth bound, and had journeyed over the threshold between heaven and earth and have, as the poem says, slipped the surly bonds of earth, put out your hand, and touched the face of God?

Those moments are very personal for you, aren’t they? They are for me. My thin places are my own. Seeing the clear night sky is one of those thin places for me. Witnessing the births of my children. My wife’s laugh. Holding Drew’s little hand in mine. Hugs from my girls. Times of fellowship with you. Worship, baptisms, communion. Moments when everything just seems right, when everything comes into clear focus, when everything is put in its proper perspective, and we are given a glimpse of what is truly important.

These thin places remind us of what is real and certain, of those things that eternal and kingdom oriented. They are not easily explained or even understood. They just happen. They are gifts of God for our eyes only. They are encounters with God that open our eyes so that we are able to see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ. Thin places are a gift of God, a glimpse into heaven’s realm, a glimpse of the kingdom in all of its splendor. We wish we could capture them and keep them bottled up, pulling them out to catch a glimpse from time to time. We wish we could just hold on to them and stay in the moment as long as we can before they close up again. No wonder the disciples did not want to leave? Who does? No one wants to leave the experience of a thin place. But the disciples had to come down off the mountain and so do we. At some point my plane had to land and I had to go back down to the earth, to the world in which I live.

But there are still thin places down here in the valley as well. There are still those moments when the veil is lifted and we catch a glimpse of God’s glory shining through, when the heavens open up and we see the kingdom of God in all of its glory. An Iraqi voter hugging the mother of a fallen American soldier. Children reunited with loved ones after the devastating tsunami. A police officer counseling an arguing couple. An adult serving as a child mentor and advocate. Parents being parents and spending time with their children. A husband and wife making time for one another. That is why Jesus came down off that mountain with his disciples. He wanted to show them that thin places continue to happen as long as the living Christ is at work in the world. He wanted to show them the thin places as he ate with outcasts and sinners. He wanted to show them the thin places as he ministered to the least, the lost, and the left out.

He wanted to show them the thin places as he healed the sick, opened the eyes of the blind, feed the hungry, and made dead walk again. He wanted to show them the thin places as he forgave, reconciled, and built relationships with people. He wanted to show them, and us, that thin places are all around us. Whenever the work of the kingdom of God is done there you will find a thin place. Whenever you and I risk ourselves for the sake of the gospel and serve as Christ’s faithful disciples, you will find a thin place. Serving food at the Valley Mission. Handing out clothes at the clothes closet. Visiting the sick and hospitalized. Sharing meals together. Studying God’s Word together. Giving your time, spiritual gifts, and money to the work of Christ’s church. There you will find a thin place. There you will find that moment when the dividing line between God and humankind becomes so thin that the presence of God is very real.

As you come to the table today to be nourished and feed by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, you will once again be in a thin place, but come knowing that out there beyond the doors of this church there is no shortage of other thin places. May the bread of life and cup of salvation you take today, encourage you to go out into the world with eyes open and hearts and minds ready for the thin places you will experience all around us in the people we care for and minister to, for it is in those thin places with others, that Jesus’ true identity is revealed for all to see, illuminating us with a brilliance that can only come from nothing else but the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. Amen.