SURROUNDED BY AWE, EMBRACING THE SACRED…
Once again we have encountered an imaginative and a life-giving story in our tradition.
        A mythical incident in the life of Jesus called the ‘transfiguration’.
        A copy from another anonymous storyteller, whom we call Mark.
                    Although Mark’s Jesus doesn’t say anything.

So what can we speculate is going on?
What is Matthew’s purpose in crafting this story?
        All offered under a storytellers license.

Mountains are important to storyteller Matthew as places
which symbolically bring one close to heaven.

They also recall Old Testament pictures
of Sinai as the place of revelation
and Zion as the place of hope and instruction.

Original hearers would have these other stories and related heroes in their memories.
Especially the place of Moses in all this.
        So one of the conclusions we can draw is,
        for Matthew, Jesus is the new Moses.

And probably more than that…
Jesus not only joins the august company of the heroes of Israel,
he supersedes them.

To make sure his hearers—Jewish hearers—get that message,
all these implied events happened on sacred Mount Sinai,
the exact place where both Moses and Elijah talked with God.
        Wow! A significant awe-inspired story.

What of us?
What of our mountain experiences in a land unlike any other,
“weathered to an unimaginable flatness with a consequent vastness of sky, space and light.” (Moore 2009:144)

Near where I was born is the Grampians National Park—traditionally known
as Gariwerd on Djab Wurrung Country.

A medium mountain range with Mount William
being the highest peak at 1,167m.

Each end-of-year school holidays, and after Christmas,
our family would pitch our tent in Halls Gap Camping Ground, at the foot of the ranges.

Each year we would again seek out the local landscape attractions:
        Majestic waterfalls
        Hidden wildflowers in gullies
        Significant and ancient Aboriginal rock art paintings

And the kangaroos, who would assemble on the oval for serious counsel of an evening!

My younger brother and I would explore and climb all over the place.
Especially up the 4km walk to the Pinnacle Lookout—rising 500 metres above Halls Gap.

To actually climb out to the rocky edge of the Pinnacle
over a gap in the rocks, was always a test of nerve.
        Even with the wire mesh cage for protection.
        And your ear being twisted by a parent if they caught you!
But the risk was always worth it.

Awe-inspiring panoramas.

These 65+ years later I would add: …and sacred.

oo0oo

Why do we feel awe?
What can happen to us following the experience of awe?

Researchers say awe is good for our minds, bodies, and social connections.
That opportunities for awe surround us,
and their benefits are profound.

Awe is the feeling of being in the presence of something vast
that transcends our understanding of the world.
        When goosebumps may ripple down one’s neck.

In one recent study a couple of years ago
“participants listed nature as their most common elicitor of awe, followed by scientific works, works of art and the achievement of human cooperation.” (De Cruz 2020:3)

In the old religious language, awe was nearly always about sacred, or divine, or g-o-d.
And such language sought to direct people’s attention upwards,
        away from things earthy and horizontal
        towards things invisible, eternal, and vertical.

Every thing was very hierarchical.

That’s why cathedrals were built narrow and high.
We needed to look long and up. Way up!
And it was up—on the ceilings—that many famous religious themed paintings could be found.
        The Sistine Chapel—the large papal chapel built within the Vatican
        between 1477 and 1480 by Pope Sixtus IV, for instance.

        Likewise The Shah Mosque located in Iran, dating from 1611
        and which is regarded as one of the masterpieces of Persian architecture
        in the Islamic era.

And when the fire toppled Notre Dame’s iconic spire
and most of its ancient roof four years ago, in 2019,
millions of hearts around the world were broken.

The Paris cathedral—constructed over a 200 year period— is one
of the most awe-inspiring monuments ever built…
Another spectacular symbol of gothic architecture and human achievement.

The sheer size and stunning verticality of the place
made people feel small and humble,
        even inducing a sort of spiritual trance-like state.

Today, ‘awe’ and ‘sacred’ have returned in a newer religious language.
And it’s not the same kind of ‘sacred’.

This shake up has resulted in a shifting of religious attention,
from ‘heaven above’ coupled with supernatural persons and doctrines,
        to this world, including flowers, autumn leaves, being moved by music,
        the ominous rumbling of thunder, sunsets, mountains, and desert spinifex.

“God in Australia,” writes Melbourne academic David Tacey, “will not be proud, haughty or exalted but, rather, everyday, horizontal and earthy.”
(Tacey 2000:256)

Experiencing awe also seems to make us more inclined to help someone in need.
And feeling less entitled and self-important
        while orienting our actions toward the interests of others.

Awe says:
Notice the wonders and beauty all around you.
Care for and be connected to others.
Become less individualistic, narcissistic.

oo0oo

There is good news this morning in this mythical and imaginative biblical story.
The divine, or the sacred or g-o-d, however we use those words,
        is not aloof and detached and supernatural,
        but rather is at hand, naturally.

And the presentness of the sacred is:
in the beauty of the universe around us, and our ability to apprehend it,
in the close encounters with new life and death,
in a special way during a period of suffering,
in praying and meditation,
in church and synagogue contextual liturgies.

Imaginative and mysterious experiences…
Mountain top experiences…
Awe experiences…

All allow us to balance our personal selves
with the sense we are in a context that is larger and more important
than our selves, and which help to orient us
in our lives and in the cosmos. (Goodenough 1998:174)

oo0oo

A retired professor of philosophy and religion, and a Zen Buddhist nun,
were sharing in a conference on ‘Prayer and Spirituality’.
“We were having a vigorous intellectual go at prayer and spirituality, with all their implications. In the midst of our intense discussion, Geshin raised her hand and said, ‘Do you hear the bird outside, singing?’ I realized at that point that she had included not only what we were talking about, but also the whole environment around us. She was connected with the way things are in all their exciting particularity.” (Peters 2008:104)

“The way things are in all their exciting particularity…”
Or as eight year old Alexandra Scott said
when told she had a particular treacherous form of paediatric cancer:
‘If life gives you lemons, make lemonade!’

She did.
She set up a lemonade stand in the front yard of her family home
        in order to raise some money
        to help find a cure for kids with cancer.

Bibliography:
De Cruz, H. “The Necessity of Awe”. Aeon Newsletter, 10 July 2020. (Accessed 15 July 2020)
Goodenough, U. The Sacred Depths of Nature. New York. Oxford University Press, 1998.
Keltner, D. “Why do we Feel Awe?” Greater Good. 1 May 2016. (Accessed August 2020)
Moore, G. “Sacramentality: An Australian Perspective” in S. Burns & A. Monro (ed). Christian Worship in Australia. Inculturating the Liturgical Tradition. Strathfield. St Pauls Publications, 2009
Peters, K. E. Spiritual Transformations. Science, Religion, and Human Becoming. Minniapolis. Fortress Books, 2008.
Tacey, D. ReEnchantment. The New Australian Spirituality. Pymble. HarperCollins, 2000