I.N.I.

a sermon written to be preached at Christ the King Lutheran Church, Pawling, NY on the Sunday of the Transfiguration, the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, 13 February 1994, and based on the Epistle for the Day, 2 Corinthians 3:12—4:2 (and on a sermon on the same text preached during vicarage) This wasn’t delivered in Pawling due to ice and snow, but later preached in Chinatown, Whitestone, and Bayside in different years.

Grace, mercy, and peace be yours in Christ Jesus, our Lord!

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

There was a sinful advertising campaign on TV some years ago–at least I don’t think it’s still being used. In these commercials people washed greasy dishes using the dishwashing liquid soap being advertised. After they rinsed the first plate, they held it up so the lighting and camera angles were all just right, and declared “I can see myself!”

I only called this campaign “sinful” because it declares that the goal of cleansing is to see oneself, whereas the goal of Christian cleansing is quite the opposite. The goal of Christian cleansing is that we no longer see ourselves. Rather, we want to see the bright, shining image of our Savior. We want to have the reflected glory of the triune God surrounding us. We want to be allowed to fade into the background while He alone takes center stage.

Unfortunately for us and for all mankind, that isn’t our natural state. Humanity tends toward self reflection, self absorption, and self indulgence. It’s true that humans were originally created “in the image of God.” It’s also very clear that when Eve and Adam rejected their privileged position and voluntarily went the way of sin, they set us up to inherit their rebellious attitude these many years later. Look around you in the world today and you’ll have to acknowledge very quickly that the way of sin has been passed down to each of us. You’ll have to acknowledge that people everywhere are separated from God and from each other by the divisiveness of sin.

Think for a moment of the things that divide us. These are the things that mark us off from our Creator and our fellow creatures as certainly as if we were veiled off from one another. A robber’s mask might be one thing. Or the invisible masks of pain that mark the faces of people in damaged relationships. What about the tarnish or dust of un-cared for relationships, where one party ignores the other?

Sin pulls a veil down over our faces so effectively that people cannot see us or relate to us. This veil also keeps us from connecting with people around us, or with God. We were created to be able to relate to our God, but instead we have donned the veil of sin to keep Him out. Our veils–both real and metaphorical–are both separators and masks.

There’s a big drawback to wearing a veil on your face. That drawback is that it can block the wearer’s vision. If you wear a veil to just under your eyes, as some Islamic women must, you lose all this peripheral vision down here. If it slips up over your eyes, you can’t see at all. Sin is a great thing for reducing your vision. For example, start coveting something and before long you won’t be able to see the difference between ‘yours’ and ‘mine.’ Try neglecting church for a while, and you’ll be amazed at how quickly you start failing to see the point in coming here to worship. Surround yourself with needless luxuries, and before you know it, you’ll become blind to the hungry, homeless, shivering poor who surround us on every side.

It goes without saying that these veils need to be removed. The veil of unbelief, the veil of distrust, the veil of hatred and neglect … the veil of sin.

How to go about this?

Well, a funny thing about this veil of sin is that since it obstructs our sight, we often don’t realize it’s there. Those of you who wear eyeglasses might perhaps remember the first time you put your glasses on. Then suddenly you realized what you had been missing! Paul writes the same sort of thing about the Jews in today’s Epistle: they have a veil over their faces when they read the Scriptures; Jesus walked in their very midst, but they could not see Him for who He was. They were content to go down the path of unbelief because of their mistaken notion that they had everything they needed.

Paul goes on to tell us that the Lord, who is the Spirit, is the One Who removes the veil from our faces and brings about the changes that result. He is writing about our redemption and our sanctification. Christ removes the veil that hangs over our faces and separates us from the Father. Remember how when He died the thick curtain in the Temple that separated the people from the Holy of Holies was miraculously torn down the middle? The veil of separation is torn down by the death of our Lord.

There’s an immediate consequence to the removal of this veil of sin from our faces. Paul tells us about it.

He uses a word in verse 18 of 2 Corinthians 3 that is translated as “beholding” in some translations, and as “reflecting” in others. “We all, with unveiled faces reflecting/beholding the glory of God….” he writes.

This pair of words is just about opposite in meaning, but the grammar of the text allows either translation. The beauty of it, of course, is that both senses are true. The Holy Spirit guided Paul to use a word and grammatical structure that enrich our understanding of God and His relationship with us.

Let’s look at this word for a minute. “Beholding.” As unredeemed sinners we’re blinded to God, His love, and His glory. Then, when the Holy Ghost calls us by the Gospel and enlightens us with His gifts, we come to see our God as our loving, forgiving Father. We’re suddenly freed from focusing only on ourselves and our own needs to be able to see the glory of God.

But isn’t it true that as redeemed children of God we reflect His glory to those around us? “Let your light so shine before men that they may know your Father Who is in Heaven.” “Don’t hide your light under a bushel basket.” In other words (or, rather, in St. Paul’s words) “reflect like mirrors the glory of God. “

That’s the immediate consequence of having the Lord remove the veil from our faces: our outlook is changed (we behold His glory), and our attitude is changed (we start reflecting His glory)

The later consequence, later only because it happens next, is that we are ourselves transfigured into the image and likeness of God. As Christians we are going through a continued metamorphosis, a lifelong caterpillar to butterfly change that begins with the water of our Baptism and will go on until we reach our home in Heaven.

Everything we learn and experience as Christians draws us somehow closer to our Father. And unless we insist on pulling that old veil back down over our face, we’ll be able to see that all things do indeed work together for good to those who love God, to those who have been called according to His plan (Rom. 8:28).

We’re changed by degrees, Paul writes. The longer we’re Christians, the more time we spend absorbing God’s Word and the more deeply we feel the commitments we made at our Baptism, the closer then we’ll be to being made over, back into the image of God in which our first parents were created.

God grant this for Jesus’ sake. AMEN

May the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord.

S.D.G.