Bedazzled

When someone or something is flashy, we tend to take notice.

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean. Then they asked him, ‘Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come first?’ He said to them, ‘Elijah is indeed coming first to restore all things. How then is it written about the Son of Man, that he is to go through many sufferings and be treated with contempt? But I tell you that Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written about him.’ - Mark 9:2-13

Whenever I read of the transfiguration of Jesus, I picture light emanating from him.  As Mark says, he was dazzling white.

But in the picture I chose for today, an Italian photographer captured the clouds rolling at the feet of Jesus as portrayed in the statue in Rio.

I like this photo because it focuses on the clouds and the sky, highlighting the awesome nature of Christ while keeping him human, like us.

I tend to see Jesus two ways.  He is divine, God among us.  And he is human, born of a woman.

When he does something beyond our imagined abilities, I tend to write it off as Godlike, keeping it at a distance.  I couldn't possibly do that for I am human, I think.

But when he does something humanly possible, like showing compassion for someone, I am in.

What if all of it is what Jesus wants us to attempt, not just the humanly possible stuff?

Instead of being in awe, shouldn't we be empowered?

More to come...