So, I thought this would be a good week to update you on the Dyshkos, the Ukrainian family in Hamilton that so many of you financially supported and prayed for, without even meeting them, because you thought it was the right and welcoming thing to do. A thing Christians and Americans, in normal times, do without blinking an eye.
They were brought here on protective status visas, with a pathway to green cards and citizenship, provided they did their part and became productive members of the community. They all plunged head first into learning English and the weird ways of Americans with the help of St. Thomas' folks and the rest of the village. And I am proud to say one of the women is earning her keep working at Flour and Salt, a bakery/restaurant up there. The other woman moved to Boston with her daughter who was accepted into college and works a side job, while the mother keeps a close eye on her and works in an Eastern European specialty grocery store. The old grandfather, who could easily be retired, is a village handyman, fixing things that us Americans keep breaking and keep forgetting how to fix.
All of them pay taxes and support themselves as well as many born and bred New Yorkers and have integrated well into their communities. In fact they have integrated so well that they have paid their fees to apply for permanent status and have followed every law and regulation set before them. They are legal; they behave themselves; they love their new home.
And they will probably have that status stripped from them and deported any day now because the visas they were brought here under are the same visas that are held by Haitians, who, as we all know, are eating all the dogs and cats. So, everybody has to go. Just like that. They don't look like us; they don't act like us; they are frightening.
I was thinking about this over the weekend as I was pondering the gospel reading. Jesus and some of his friends have gone up the mountain to pray. And when they get there, the most astounding thing happens. This is the story of the Transfiguration, an occurrence that is so strange that the gospel writers do a pretty lousy job describing it. They just say that they saw Jesus's glory. And also Moses and Elijah. Now whatever occurred, it was enough that the disciples there with Jesus were stunned. So much so, that Peter immediately wanted to set up shop and stay there, building some booths to keep Jesus and the prophets hemmed in and safe, no doubt thinking of the tourist attraction that could be built on this desolate spot.
But Jesus is having none of it. “No,” he says, “we're not staying here. We're going back down. There are people there that need us. And don't tell anyone.” And come to find out, he's right. And the rest of the lesson is Jesus healing a young epileptic and handling some demonic forces.
And I've always wondered why Jesus didn't want anyone to know right then about the Transfiguration that had occurred. That's always been a weird little stumbling block for me. But now I think, maybe, Jesus knows us too well. He knows we're always running off in search of the next shiny thing. And if we knew about what had happened on TOP of the mountain, we'd leave the suffering young man at the BOTTOM of the mountain, and run up there and just sit and ponder. We often feel good when we can feel good about ourselves by doing next to nothing.
We would get up there at the mountain top and reflect on where exactly Moses and Elijah actually stood. Which was the rock that Jesus sat on when he was praying. We would start thinking of maybe later, raising some money and turning it into a resort. Sort of tacky it up with gold trim and wallpaper, some gold furniture. Maybe have a gold ballroom, a restaurant with expensive, mediocre food, a nice patio with palm trees, a gift shop. And we could go up there and stay for a while and get away from the riff-raff and be with people just like us.
Jesus knows some of us all too well. Because Jesus stands up, leaves the site, and comes down the mountain. Because Jesus knows what his friends don't. God's transfiguring glory is necessary, but NOT sufficient. A transfigured Christ that is not a loving Christ is not Christ at all. The one MUST be followed by the other. A glorified Christ is going to want to heal and love the widows, the orphans, the poor, the needy...the aliens in their midst. And that Transfiguration is nothing if those who witness it and are moved by it do not STAND UP with Jesus and go down the mountain, into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and bring love and compassion, justice and equity, to the people in need of it every single day.
You CANNOT sit on the mountain top. You have to stand up, and you have to move!
I am reminded of a news clip I recently saw of a woman at a town hall meeting, voicing and venting her concerns over all the wreckage that we are bringing down upon ourselves as a nation. Bringing a sledgehammer to an operating room. And the Congressman there was getting an earful from everyone. And out of nowhere, these men, all in black with no identifying marking or badges, surrounded her, trying to remove her physically from the space as she was expressing her First Amendment right to free speech, albeit loudly. They refused to identify themselves as they dragged her out. And what struck me was the rest of the people. They were all there for the same reason. But not a single one of them helped this woman. Not a single one of them said what is happening here is wrong and needs to stop. Not a single one of them STOOD UP.
Y'all, you cannot get to those in need unless you stand up first.
Now I don't watch late night TV. For me 8:00 is past my bedtime. But I did hear this later on by Stephen Colbert, who is a very devout, practicing Catholic. He said, “If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn't help the poor and oppressed, then either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we've got to acknowledge that he commanded us to love the poor and the needy without condition. And then admit that we just DON'T want to do it.”
The folks at St. Thomas', along with others in that community, they DO want to do it. They do want to help the poor and oppressed. They want to live into their baptismal vows. And they are working hard to figure out how they can help the Dyshkos, Ukrainians who have done nothing but run afoul of ignorance and petulance, lust and greed. The people of St. Thomas' are standing up. They are moving down the mountain into that valley to meet, to help, and to love those in need.
I pray to God they are not alone. And I pray to God that, when our time comes, we will stand up, too.
Amen.