Father Richard Rohr is a Franciscan priest, theologian, and prolific writer. He is also one of my spiritual heroes. In his latest book, he spends a lot of time
talking about what he calls our false self and our true self. Our false self is how we define ourselves. For example, I am a 57-year-old white gay man
living in Waco, Texas. I have been the pastor of this church for more than 15 years, and have been in a committed relationship with my partner for almost as many years.
In addition to my duties at church, I serve on various hunger relief and interfaith committees in our community-at-large. These are elements of my false self.
Rohr points out that we spend many years laboriously building this sense of self, with all its labels and preoccupations to which we are very attached.
"And why wouldn't you be?" he asks. "It's what you know and all you know. To move beyond it will always feel like losing or dying." On the other hand,
Rohr suggests that our true self is the divine presence that lies within us and that can, if released, transform us into the people we're meant to be.
Our true self is fabulous; it's the "hidden treasure in the field" and the "pearl of great price" which Jesus talks about in his parables. Rohr says that
"once your soul comes to its True Self, it can amazingly let go and be almost anything except selfish or separate." And, he says, we are all looking
for that true self, which he calls an “immortal diamond”--“something utterly reliable, something loyal and true, something we can always depend on,
something unforgettable and shining." In this morning's Gospel reading, the disciples and we, the readers, are given a glimpse of Jesus' true self,
his immortal diamond. As the evangelist relates it, Jesus seems to have been transformed into a supernatural being, someone who appeared very different
from the person he had been up until that point. And yet Richard Rohr would say that we are actually looking at the very essence of Jesus, the core of his being.
Not supernatural, at all, but rather the true self which is already in communion with God and always has been. So what would it be like if we all
had a sense of our true selves? That's the question I want you to think about today. If each of us were to undergo a transfiguration today and our true self--
that immortal diamond within each of us--was revealed, what would that be like? What would it look like? Well, with our Gospel reading
to guide us, I think we can make a few claims about our true selves. And one is that our true self is only revealed through suffering. I wish that weren't so.
If spiritual growth could occur in the good times, then life would be so much easier. But it seems we humans learn our important lessons when we experience
pain and loss. The most grace-filled moments in our lives always seem to happen when we feel as if we have lost it all. And it's out of those confusing
and dark moments that we hear the voice of God. As the text describes it, "a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice."
There are times in our lives when it feels as if we are overshadowed by a cloud. When we have lost a loved one, when an intimate relationship is broken,
when we find ourselves unemployed, or when we lose our health. We can't even see to place the next foot in front of us. But we sense a presence
that gives us just enough hope to hang on. We hear that voice which is God's. That voice which is within us and always has been within us.
That voice which speaks to us of love, and which, more times than not, is drowned out by the voice of ambition and success and ego. But when we eventually
hear that voice which is God's voice, then we will discover our true self. And our true self, we will learn, is lived out of connection, not fear.
In the reading, Jesus seems to be having a casual coffee conversation with Elijah and Moses, two great prophets who have been long dead. Jesus is connected
with both the living and the dead, with the present and the past, with God and the world. All are one. During this mountaintop experience,
there are no divisions or separations. And this is a sense of what it's like to experience the true self. In contrast, we are given a picture of some very
rattled and shaken disciples. Peter has become a babbling fool, mumbling something about building a dwelling for Jesus and Elijah and Moses.
If it doesn't make a lot of sense to you, I don't think it's meant to. The text says, "He did not know what to say, for they were terrified."
The false self lives in fear and terror. Because it has spent so much of its energy building up and acquiring things, its ever-present fear is that those things
will be taken away. So it spends its whole existence protecting itself against the loss of those things: that relationship, that reputation, that job salary,
that nice home with the white picket fence, those accessories. But the true self can't be taken away from us. God's love is with us and always will be.
And no one can steal that love from us. No politician or preacher can. And no one can bestow us with that love. No friend or family member.
The true self recognizes that we are all loved and we are all one. The labels, the titles and degrees, the skin colors--they are all part of the false self.
We are all one and there is nothing that can be taken or given to us because if we are in God, we are already complete and whole, just as we are.
The voice in our text describes Jesus as being God's own beloved Child. And that same voice declares us to be loved, too. We are each
the beloved children of God. We are all loved and we are all connected. If we all realized this and if we all lived this out each day of our lives,
the world would be a better place, wouldn't it? There wouldn't be hunger or poverty or suffering. There would not be a one percent
controlling 90 percent of the wealth because we would all care enough about each other to make sure that no one suffered. But that's not the case.
And it's not the case because the best we can do is to only get glimpses of our true selves. The glimpses of our true selves give us hope.
But we are imperfect humans, and as imperfect humans, we are unable to live 24 hours a day in touch with our true selves. The transfiguration only lasted
for a few brief moments. And then, "suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus." And so they made their way
down from the mountaintop. You just can't sustain yourself on top of the mountain forever. Sooner or later, you've got to come down. In John's second epistle,
he says, "There is a truth that lives within us that will be with us forever." We are all looking for that truth. And if we find it, if we even get a glimpse of it,
it will feel like a mountaintop experience. Rohr says you "will feel like a thousand pounds of weight have fallen from your back. You will no longer
have to build, protect, or promote any idealized self images. Living in the True Self is quite simply a much happier existence, even though
we never live there a full twenty-four hours a day. But you henceforth have it as a place to always go back to. You have finally discovered the alternative
to your False Self." My hope and prayer is that each of us will discover our true selves, those selves which are complete in Christ and which know
we are loved by God and always will be. And may we rest in the assurance that God pronounces us to be God's own beloved children. Amen.