A couple of days ago, a video that snagged the attention of my ‘90s baby heart: Green Day performing “American Idiot” on a New York City Subway platform. The lyrics transported me back to my seventh-grade self, clad in Aeropostale, my eyes outlined in thick black. I could tell the large crowd felt similarly, everyone singing the 2004 anthem at the top of their lungs, arms extended with their phones recording the scene. It looked fun! And the scene reminded me of another video I saw recently from New Year’s Eve in Paris. With the Arc de Triomphe displaying the final countdown, the video shows a sea of phones, everyone recording the moment rather than hugging or kissing their loved ones. This is the world we live in. The impulse to record and share, building up our digital presentations of self, is strong, but it’s not exactly something new. This week’s Gospel passage reminds me that the human desire to contain moments existed before modern technology, residing deep in our marrow. Peter demonstrates this in Mark 9:2-9 when he offers to build three separate tabernacles for Jesus, Elijah and Moses. His offer is both a recognition of the holy and an attempt to contain it. I love Peter’s bumbling response because this would be exactly my impulse. After recognizing that I was experiencing something beyond my understanding, I would reach out to catch and hold it. The moment on the mountain was miraculous. The disciples get a glimpse of the divinity that resides in Jesus’ fully human flesh, and they are terrified (v. 6). Then clouds descend and God addresses Peter, James and John in the darkness with a version of God’s message to Jesus at his baptism: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (v. 7). As I read this week’s Gospel passage, I wonder about the human response to divine revelations. ... Read the rest of the commentary on the website.
Thank you to this week's writer Rose Schrott Taylor. |
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