Changing lanes

photo by Martin Malina (Galetta, Ontario, 2020)

It’s all about change today. In the church year, the Transfiguration of Our Lord Sunday not only pivots us from the Christmas cycle of Advent, Christmas and Epiphany to the Resurrection cycle of Lent, Holy Week, and Easter. The Transfiguration is also an event in the life of Jesus wherein he claims his full divinity without denying his full humanity.

First, Jesus’ appearance changes on the mountaintop (Luke 9:28-43a). His face and clothes become dazzling white. And, the voice from the cloud declares Jesus God’s chosen son. Divine.

But the changes don’t stop there. The story doesn’t end with the disciples’ awe and silence atop the mountain in the cloud. There is a purpose for those mountaintop experiences. The purpose is to live on the earth.

Jesus must continue his ministry, his mission to the cross. Alongside his divinity Jesus has to continue to grapple with his humanity. He has to come down, descend to earth, so to speak, and deal with real people. And he is frustrated and angered when he encounters the people, calling them a “perverse generation”. Yes, this Gospel text about the Transfiguration of Our Lord reveals Jesus’ humanity as much as it does his divinity.

Yet, in both the divine and human Jesus, the glory, the presence and greatness of God is witnessed. “All were astounded at the greatness of the Lord,” concludes the Gospel (Luke 6:28-43a).

But the changes don’t stop there! There are others in this story that experience growth, deeper connection and maturity in faith – the healed boy to say the least, the crowds who witness the miracle, as well as the three disciples who were privileged to accompany Jesus to the mountaintop. They were all impacted in different ways. This event changed them.

This event is a key turning point in the disciples’ awareness and experience of their friend and their Lord. They are growing and changing in their faith. From simple fishermen to martyrs – many of them – there is a long narrative in between. And the transfiguration story is an important milestone in that journey towards growth and maturity.

Yes, today is all about change. The disciples in Jesus’ day represent the church today. We are the body of Christ, together. How does a community of people change, never mind individuals? In our hyper individualized society, we don’t pay enough attention to the changes we undergo as a community of faith.

After the Second World War, Sweden was the only country in continental Europe whose citizens drove on the left side of the road. This caused chaos at border crossings and many head-on collisions. So, on September 3, 1967, citizens in Sweden changed from driving on the left side of the road to the right. They called it, “turn around day”.

Because of opposition to this proposed change, a four-year education program was started four years before September 3, 1967, upon the advice of psychologists, so that at 4:50 a.m., “turn around day” began with all traffic halting for 10 minutes. After the 10 minutes were up, at 5:00 a.m. on September 3, 1967, then everyone changed lanes from driving on the left side to the right side of the roads (Watson & Watson, 2025).

To make their change, the Swedes had to first stop what they had been doing. Psychologists today call it “thought stopping” (Erford, 2020). On the road to recovery and healing, the idea is that one must begin by consciously arresting/stopping the unhelpful automatic thought before substituting an alternative thought, and behaviour.

But long before cognitive behavioural therapists started using this technique, Christian contemplatives were practising a version of thought-stopping in order to make room in their awareness of God. And what they noticed when they stopped everything, including their incessant thinking and activity trying to solve all their problems, what they discovered was that God was already working the desired change in their lives.

The practice was called Statio, the practice of stopping one thing before beginning another. I like to call it a “holy pause”. It is the acknowledgement that in the holy pause is a space of transition and threshold into a sacred dimension. And this holy pause is full of possibility. This place between is a place of stillness, where we let go of what came before and prepare ourselves to enter fully into whatever comes next (Paintner, 2018).

Statio calls us to a sense of reverence for the “fertile spaces” in between all our work and activity “where we can pause and center ourselves and listen” (Paintner, 2018, pp. 8-9). We open up a space within us to receive Christ’s invitation and Spirit to follow the way of Christ, inviting us on the path to healing.

Jesus taught the disciples the importance of a holy pause, on this path of life. The Transfiguration story began in prayer. “They went up a mountain to pray.” That is the way we travel this journey with Jesus. Prayer. In holy pausing, we begin to see God being revealed to us all the time, all around us.

The disciples, you will note, were both elated and terrified. Because those holy pauses aren’t always easy nor are they always immediately gratifying.

The turn-around-day in Sweden was not a popular move, at first. Allegedly some 80% of the population opposed the idea of changing lanes. Maybe because people knew the cost. Whole infrastructures had to be rebuilt and retooled – imagine the cost – signs, intersections, car lights – never mind getting used to driving on the other side of the road (Savage, 2018).

Was it worth it? Car accident insurance claims and more importantly fatal head-on collisions dropped sharply in the months and years following “turn around day”. So, the public effort and expense resulted in saving lives.

And that’s where this Gospel today leads us to and ends with: healing. The cross leads to the empty tomb. That’s the story of the Gospel. Transfiguration – and all those holy pause moments – eventually lead us, in the way of Christ, to resurrection and new life. That is our hope.

References:

Erford, B. T. (2020). 45 techniques every counsellor should know (3rd ed.). Pearson Merrill.

Savage, M. (2018, April 17). A thrilling mission to get the Swedish to change overnight. BBC [website]. https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20180417-a-thrilling-mission-to-get-the-swedish-to-change-overnight

Valters Paintner, C. (2018). The soul’s slow ripening. Sorin Books.

Watson, C., & Watson, G. (2025, January 21). Right day. Eternity for Today. Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada. www.eft.elcic.ca

True power, true love

photo by Martin Malina, 2019

“Love your enemies” (Luke 6:27) is a teaching from Jesus that hits especially hard in today’s economic and political climate. Because loving your opposition is not how you win. Loving your enemies goes against the grain of our conditioning. 

Using a hockey analogy, we naturally want to go on the offensive when facing adversity. We want to fight back, tit-for-tat. Seeking revenge is a strong motivator, isn’t it? 

But good hockey minds know that focusing only on offense usually means losing the game. Avoiding sound defensive play is not a winning strategy. As they say, defence wins championships. 

Winning, in the end, is about nurturing love and care for the battle that goes on in your end of the ice. Loving your enemies is first loving and taking care of your neck of the woods, in your backyard, whenever challenges or personal adversity appear.

So, on the one hand, loving your enemy is NOT about being a doormat and taking abuse. On the other hand, if the aim of any relationship is to always and unquestionably have the upper hand, that is no relationship.

Indeed, the problem with a bulldog approach to the challenges we face is that it more often than not keeps you stuck, by avoiding the things in your own life which you are scared to confront. These are issues that lurk in the places you don’t want to go. Occasions of adversity are invitations and opportunities to first take stock and look in your own life for whatever needs attention there.

Imagine these issues as “gnawing rats” (Loomans cited in Burkeman, 2024). How do you deal with these rats in your life? Impulsively we may want to eradicate and stomp the bad parts out of us, eliminate them completely. With force of willpower we will confront those rats and attack them with brute force and hatred even, eh?

The problem is that this approach simply replaces one kind of hatred (“Stay away from me!”) with another (“I’m going to destroy you!”). And that’s only a recipe for more avoidance over the long term, “because who wants to spend their life fighting rats?” (Burkeman, 2024, p. 62).

“Love your enemies,” says Jesus. What about befriending the rats instead? What about turning towards them and allowing them to exist alongside? There are benefits to this approach. Following Jesus’ command isn’t merely about being mindlessly obedient and doing whatever Jesus says never mind us. Jesus truly had our wellbeing, our healing in mind when he gave us this command. Jesus wants the best for us, wants us to be healthy.

First, to befriend a rat is to defuse the anxiety we feel, because we change the kind of relationship we have with it. We turn that gnawing rat into an acceptable part of our reality. By doing this, we can begin to accept that the situation is real, no matter how fervently we might wish that it weren’t. 

But we need to do something that initially feels uncomfortable. What would it take to befriend the gnawing rats in your life? “Loving your enemy” becomes an act requiring real courage – more courage, perhaps, than the standard confrontational approach. “Loving your enemy” becomes like reconciling yourself to reality rather than getting into a bar fight with it.

This is not passivity nor, as I said, is it being a doormat. It’s a pragmatic way, Jesus teaches, to increase our capacity to do something positive while becoming ever more willing to acknowledge that things are as they are, whether we like it or not (Burkeman, 2024).

Last week walking through the thick snow in the uncharacteristically quiet Arnprior Grove, I caught sight of a quick movement at the base of a tree. But it was too quick for me to recognize what it was. Seeing the tiny creature reminded me of an Indigenous tale taught by the late Canadian writer Richard Wagamese, whose story about true power I paraphrase here:

A young man dreamed of being a great warrior. In his mind’s eye he envisioned himself displaying tremendous bravery and earning the love and admiration of his people. The young man knew that the greatest warriors were those who possessed the strongest spirit and wisdom. He longed to become the greatest defender of his people.

And so he approached the Elder of his village. He told the Old One of his dream, of the great love and respect he felt within himself for his people and of his desire to protect them.

He asked the Old One to grant him the power of the most respected animal in all of the animal kingdom. With this power, the young man would be able to become as widely respected as this animal.

The Old One smiled. Although he appreciated the young man’s earnest desire he recognized that this was the time for a great teaching. So he told the young man that he would gladly grant him this power if the youngster could accurately identify the animal who commanded the most respect from his animal brothers and sisters.

The young warrior smiled. It was obvious to him that the grizzly bear commanded the most respect in the animal world. He stated this to the Elder and sat back awaiting the granting of the bear’s power. 

The Old One smiled. He told the young man to guess again, for despite the immense courage and ferocity of the grizzly, there was one who commanded greater respect.

One by one, the young man named the animals he felt possessed the adequate amount of fierceness, courage, boldness, and fighting power to earn the awe of his four-legged brothers and sisters. He named the wolverine, the eagle, the cougar, the wolf and the bison, but each time the Old One simply smiled and told him to guess again.

Finally, in confusion the young man surrendered. The Elder told the young man he had guessed as wisely as he could. However, not many knew the most respected of animals because the most respected one is seldom seen and even more seldom mentioned. It is the tiny mole, the Old One said.

The tiny, sightless mole who lives within the earth. Because the mole is constantly in touch with Mother Earth, the mole is able to learn from her every day. Whenever some creature walked across the ground above, the mole could feel the vibration in the earth. In order for the mole to know whether or not it was in danger, the mole would always go to the surface to learn more about what created the vibration.

It is said by the Old People that the mole knows when the cougar is prowling above, just as it knows the approach of a human and the scurry of a rabbit. And that is why the tiny mole is the animal among all animals who commands the greatest amount of respect. Because though the mole might put himself at great danger, the mole always takes the time to investigate what it feels (Wagamese, 2021, pp. 47-49).

“Love your enemies,” Jesus says.

Adversity challenges us to activate the better part of ourselves. Because however you define your enemy within and without, the enemy is an opportunity to reset a relationship, to re-balance things, with ourselves, with others, with creation, and with God.

“Love your enemies,” Jesus teaches us, because in the end, it’s about relationships. We were God’s enemy because humanity killed Jesus. Because sin kept us separated from God. What God did was to break down that barrier of enmity by forgiving us, loving us. Jesus gives us a way to deepen and in the end strengthen relationships of love despite the reality, the imperfection of it all, and the adversity we will always face in this life.

“I used to pray for everything I thought I wanted,” prays Richard Wagamese, “big cars, big money, big … everything. Mostly, so I could feel [big]. That was always a struggle. These days I’ve learned to pray in gratitude for what’s already here: prosperity, health, well-being, moments of joy and to pray for the same things for others …. I’m learning to want nothing but to desire everything and to choose what appears. Life is easier that way, more graceful and I AM [big] – but from the inside out” (Wagamese, 2021).

References:

Burkeman, O. (2024). Meditations for mortals: Four weeks to embrace your limitations and make time for what counts. Penguin Random House.

Wagamese, R. (2021). Richard Wagamese selected: What comes from spirit. Douglas & McIntyre.

It all evens out

What happens when your best friend starts saying things and doing things that offend and hurt? Our responses are varied. But it is our best friend who has suddenly created this division. And we don’t know what to do.

A Manitoba family took to heart a playful suggestion made by a journalist to deploy hockey sticks in a row in snowbanks on the border. They pasted on the blades of these hockey sticks googly-eyes to provide 24/7 surveillance (Proudfoot, 2025 February 5).

In the Gospel today (Luke 6:17-26), we observe both Jesus’ actions and words. But if just look at the words of the Beatitudes alone, taking them out of the setting of the narrative, this is tricky. At best it leaves us analyzing paradox and struggling with ambiguity. At worst, the words confuse us, and we dismiss them in frustration.

Because Jesus pulls the rug out from underneath our presumption of who is blessed, and who is cursed. It’s the opposite of what we believe:

We believe you are blessed if you are not poor. You are blessed when everyone adores you. You are blessed when you have material wealth, social status, and your reputation is intact. You are blessed when you are tough and negotiate to win in a world of winners and losers. You are blessed when you win, in any relationship – even with your best friend.

Taken alone, Jesus’ words may support this winner/loser mentality. Because there are the blessed and there are the ‘woe-ed’, those who are cursed. And where do we fit in that either/or framework? Are you one of the cursed, or the blessed?

“It was said of Rabbi Simcha Bunim that he carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. On one he wrote: … ‘For my sake the world was created.’ On the other he wrote: … I am but dust and ashes.’ He would take out each slip of paper as necessary, as a reminder to himself” (Spitzer, as cited in Burkeman, 2024).

Thank God we also witness Jesus’ actions before he said a word. Before uttering those perplexing and sometimes confusing Beatitudes, we see him in action. His action sets the context. And what is he doing?

In Luke’s version of the Beatitudes (the Gospel of Matthew also records Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5:1-12) Jesus “comes down … and stood on a level place” with all the people. In Luke’s version, it all evens out.

Not only do the divine and human come together on one plane of existence, so do all the diverse peoples gathering to watch and hear Jesus – “a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon” (v. 17).

And Jesus healed “all in the crowd” – the blessed and the cursed (v. 19), even before Jesus began to preach those divisive, perplexing words. Before any words, his actions demonstrated what all of us share – our common humanity.

So, what does it mean that he “healed” everyone? Let’s look at the meaning of the word, healing. In the original Greek, the word for healing means more than a mere cure. Healing, in the New Testament, is the same word as salvation, to restore, to make whole (Thayer’s Greek Lexicon, 2011). Healing is about re-establishing right relationship between humanity and God, between people. Healing is about reconciling the opposites, breaking down the polarization within us and around us (Kenny, 2025, January 28).

Amidst the division, the polarization in our lives and in the world, Jesus “healed all in the crowd”. Jesus introduced an ethical dimension for being in relationship, being a friend. Jesus was about reconciling relationships that appeared, on the surface, destined for damnation.

So, now the words of Jesus may make better sense when taken in the context of Jesus’ action, which demonstrated no enduring separation, no eternal division, but rather wholeness. Rabbi Bunim held awareness of both the good in him, and the bad. He held a high view and a low view of his humanity. Perhaps, therein lies the key. Both within us, and all around us in everyone, everything.

The writer, Anne Lamott suggests: “Everyone is screwed up, broken, clingy, and scared, even the people who seem to have it more or less together. They are much more like you than you would believe. So, try not to compare your insides to their outsides” (Lamott, cited in Burkeman, 2024).

Lamott’s dust and ashes’ low view, on the one hand suggests something important and humbling about God, about reality and our place within it. God came down to our level. God became human. And died a very human death, condemned and persecuted.

But if we have overly identified for so long with our sins, our fears, our judgements, our afflictions, our limits and weakness, and all the sins in the world today, if we stay at the cross, we get stuck in despair. That’s not where the story ended. That not what Jesus wants from us. He came down to our level, in order that we may be lifted up.

We need a high view that also recognizes our limitations and mortality. Because it does not follow, that who we are and our actions don’t matter.

They don’t matter if we feel pressured to be winners in every interaction, especially against those who are different from us. They don’t matter if we feel pressured to achieve an extraordinary standard of merit that feels like victory on the battlefield, or in a way that’s applauded by a multitude of people. They don’t matter if our winning means someone else must be the loser. That we are blessed and those on the other side of the border line are cursed.

What does matter is realizing our individual being is inseparable from everything and everyone else. Each of us is impossible to be and do without countless people we might normally think of as separate from us. After all, Jesus made no distinction in his actions. “He healed all in the crowd.”

Our actions do matter when, despite our limitations, our simple un-extraordinary actions make a positive difference to the person we encounter in each moment.

So, what we do for God as saints and sinners, blessed and cursed, we do for no other reason than nothing could be as enlivening and truer to God in this momentary situation we find ourselves. Jesus came down to our level and made God accessible to all people in every situation. Jesus loves and has hope for everyone.

There’s lots to be done. Take heart. The good thing about everything being messed up is that no matter where you look, there is great work, important work, to be done.

God has given us the opportunity, being born into the messy state of life on earth in this time in history, to do one small thing at a time. We may not matter that much, from one perspective, but we matter as much as anyone ever did.

References:

Burkeman, O. (2024). Meditations for mortals: Four weeks to embrace your limitations and make time for what counts. Penguin.

Kenny, A. (2025, January 28). Healing beyond the cure: Jesus’ healing ministry. Center for Action and Contemplation: Daily Meditations. https://www. https://cac.org/daily-meditations/healing-beyond-the-cure/

Proudfoot, S. (2025, February 2025). A Manitoba family deployed googly-eyed hockey sticks [YouTube]. The National, CBC News. https://youtu.be/Q2yg7tkglQA?si=tKA_R0dMAGeHf-kB

Thayer’s Greek Lexicon. (2011). Biblesoft Inc. https://www.biblehub.com/Greek/2390.htm

Freed to be, freed to act

(Photo by Martin Malina, Sandbanks Provincial Park Ontario, 2020)

After witnessing the miracle of Jesus providing the overabundance of fish Simon Peter says, “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:1-11). In the presence of a great gift, Simon feels weak.

In the Epistle reading for today (1 Corinthians 15:1-11), Paul confesses, “I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle …” In the presence of the divine, Paul realizes his weakness.

When Isaiah sees a vision of the glory of God, he beats his breast and cries, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips …” (Isaiah 6:1-8). Not only does he confess himself, but he also implicates his own people for failing and falling far short of the glory of God.

Simon Peter, Saint Paul and the prophet Isaiah, were all quick to announce their limits, faults, sins, and weaknesses in the presence of the divine. These are giants of faith and central biblical characters of God’s choosing to bear witness to the message and purpose of God.

When we experience God’s presence, when we experience a miracle, when we bear witness to something of God, we are faced first with our own failing, fault and weakness, which is not easy. It hurts. But we are not left with our broken selves alone. We are given a choice, to embrace who we are, and follow Jesus.

We are free to be, and freed to act.

We are freed to act because we accept what is truly most important. We are freed to act because we can live out of our true selves in Christ. This movement towards freedom from being ruled by our fears, however, is tough.

I remember as a kid freezing my hands outside on a cold winter’s day. They’d get so cold, not quite frostbitten. But when I came into the warm inside, they felt numb and got all red and puffy. My fingers stung for many minutes as the blood slowly returned to the tips of my fingers.

I remember complaining to my parents why they said it was good that my fingers hurt. For one thing, my fingers stinging was a sign that my blood was still flowing there and therefore were still alive! If I didn’t feel anything, that would be really bad.

This turn towards healing begins with honesty and vulnerability. The movement to our healing and transformation begins, like it did with Isaiah, Paul and Simon Peter, by entering on the ground floor with ourselves and others. And so, it begins by stinging.

Coming alive is scary. It hurts. When we realize we are seen in the glory of God’s all-pervasive light means we are changing. Jesus’ statement to Simon, “Do not be afraid” suggests that Simon was afraid bearing witness to the miracle. Because now, his life, should he choose to continue following and listening to Jesus, will change.

What is most important? To what are we making this shift? From what are turning away? What is the treasure we seek?

Fish were a valuable part of the economy in ancient Rome. But fishing was not an entrepreneurial, free enterprise. Fishing was controlled by Rome and profited only the elite. Since Caesar functionally owned Lake Galilee and all the creatures in it, the best of the catch belonged literally to him.

For fishers, like Simon Peter and his cohort, fishing was a subsistence work. Their work was not their own. After Rome got the biggest and best fish, that haul of fish would be heavily taxed in a system of tariffs, duties, and tributes. Those who caught the fish would see little from their sale, just enough to feed their families (Butler-Bass, 2025, February 9).

In that moment, it finally came to a head. In that moment, in the face of a miracle, Simon Peter is faced with the decision whether or not he will continue working for an oppressive regime, whether he will continue to follow Caesar and his unjust policies that benefited only the powerful and rich. Or, whether he will free himself from that.

Simon is not sure he can handle that shift of thinking, of understanding. Just a moment’s hesitation, perhaps. But he and his cohorts, in the end, “leave everything behind” and follow Jesus to treasure people not possessions. Because the treasure of God is not material wealth for the rich. The treasure of God is having compassion for all people.

“In the year 258 the Roman Empire, during one of its many persecutions of the church, ordered that the church turn over its treasure. The task fell to a young deacon named Lawrence who was given three days to complete it.

Immediately Lawrence sold all the liquid assets and gave that to the sick and the widows. He liquidated also all of the property and divided that up amongst the poor. On the third day, he appeared before the emperor who demanded to see the treasures of the church.

Lawrence just turned to behind him and there were the poor, the sick, the hungry, the naked, the stranger in the land, and the most vulnerable. And Lawrence said, ‘These are the treasurers of the church’.” (Eaton, 2025 February 3).

It hurts to let go. But, when it hurts, stay with it. The blood is flowing. God might just be revealing something important about who you are and who you are becoming in Christ, a beloved child of God freed to be, and freed to act.

References: 

Butler Bass, D. (2025, February 9). Sunday musings: Fishing trip … or something else? [blog]. The Cottage. https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/sunday-musings-a12?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share

Eaton, E. (2025, February 3). The Evangelical Lutheran church in America. https://www.instagram.com/elca