The Ancient Anasazi Woman

Gospel

Mark’s gospel presents the transfiguration as a preview of what would become apparent to Jesus’ followers after he rose from the dead. Confused disciples are given a vision of God’s glory manifest in the beloved Son.

The Holy Gospel according to St. Mark, the 9th chapter.

Glory to you, O Lord.

²Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, ³and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. ⁴And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. ⁵Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” ⁶He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. ⁷Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” ⁸Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

⁹As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

The Gospel of our Lord. Praise to you, O Christ.

The Ancient Anasazi Woman

Grace to you and peace from God our Creator, from our Risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ and from our Sustainer, the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Perched high above the canyon in my spot the stillness and quiet overwhelm me and surround me and wrap around me just as cool breezes dance upon my body. It is so quiet I listen to my own heartbeat. I hear the flapping of birds’ wings as they fly below me. I hear the voice of animal, bird and insect.

And then she came…”

“As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.”

But, I’ve got to tell you! I’ve got to tell you what happened on that mountain top. I’ve got to tell you about the dazzling transfiguration that unfolded right before my very eyes, and it’s OK to tell you now. It’s OK because it is, indeed, as Jesus said it had to be. It had to be after the Son of Man rose from the dead. He says it right there in verse 9, “Tell no one about what you saw, until after the Son of Man has risen from the dead.” Thank goodness we live on this side of the resurrection so I can tell you the story while I still have some time left with you before my retirement in April.

Let me give you some background. It was decades ago when I was much younger. I was serving as the pastor of a church in the suburbs of Kansas City when I decided to go on an Outward Bound Adventure as that year’s continuing education event. The Outward Bound course I chose was a survival course in the Moab desert in the state of Utah. There were ten of us students –all strangers to one another – with two guides who led us on a ten day survival trek through the desert. No tents, carried everything we needed on our backs including food, learned how to navigate with a compass and by star gazing, rappelled down cliffs, found water, never left a trace of ourselves behind (if you know what I mean), no showers, no bathrooms, cooked on an open fire, formed a team made up of complete strangers, solved problems, found our way when our guides intentionally got us lost.

At one point we engaged in a twenty-four hour solo experience which meant that the guides placed each of us on the high rim of a canyon about a quarter mile apart – like being on the top of a mountain. For twenty-four hours we were alone. We could not leave our spot. We could have only a thermos of water, a sleeping bag, a journal and a pen. And that’s where it happened…the transfiguration. I kid you not. Listen. Listen to my story…if you will.

And then she came. The gentle breeze brought her to my perch. Standing on the ledge she walked over to me. She was old and hunched over leaning on her came which was a long stick thicker that her own arm but smooth and beautiful from thousands of years of dependence. Two long braids of silver hair fell down to her shoulders on each side of her head with a simple string knot at the ends. Her face and hands and feet were the color of the rock all around me, and her skin was tough and strong and alive. She walked over to me and sat down with her legs folded. She placed her cane in front of her. She was an ancient Anasazi women.

As she stroked her cane with her fingers she turned her head and looked into my eyes. I will never forget those eyes. They were the same striking silver color of her hair. She said to me, ‘I have a story to tell you.’ As she stroked her cane she began her story, and as she spoke her two silver braids of silver hair playfully danced on her shoulders.

‘A long time ago there lived a deer whose home was this desert canyon. As with all deer this one had markings on its body. This deer’s markings included a large oval-shaped patch of white fur on the top of its head between his two pointed ears. Ever since this deer was very young, he almost always noticed this beautiful, white patch of fur whenever he drank from a pool of water. Like a mirror the water reflected the image of his fur. He liked his marking and as a child that marking gave him great delight and joy, but over the years as he grew into a tall strong buck the antlers that came along covered up that unique and beautiful marking. As he wandered the desert canyon for food and shelter for himself and his young ones he was often in too much of a hurry to notice his marking nestled between his antlers. Dropping his head to a pool of water to drink became just another necessity and responsibility. Dropping his head to the reflecting pool to drink became such a routine that his eyes were usually closed.

One day after his young ones had taken an unusually long drink from the reflecting pool, they ran with excitement to their father to show off their discovery. They too had the same beautiful marking as their father. The oval-shaped patch of white fur was nestled on the top of their heads between their two pointed ears.

He walked over to the reflecting pool, dropped his head as if to drink, and with his eyes open this time he saw that beautiful patch of white fur. He remembered himself as a young deer. He remembered how that marking helped him to like himself and even to love himself. He remembered how that marking had given him so much delight and joy. He remembered that all deer have their own unique markings, and as he lifted his head he noticed. He looked at his young one and the other deer who were drinking. He noticed what made each deer different and what made each deer the same. Each had their own beautiful marking hand-crafted by the Spirit, the Creator of all that is.’

The ancient Anasazi women looked into my eyes as she ended her story. I’ll never forget those eyes that matched the color of her two striking silver braids which were her own beautiful markings. She looked and smiled and said, ‘This story if for you. And remember. Your marking, your gift, your blessing is the touch of the Spirit of all creation. Your own unique marking is the kiss of the Great Spirit which is given to everyone differently. And upon all of creation this canyon before you is the kiss of the Great Spirit.’

Those words floated to me from the ancient women just like the breeze of the canyon. In an instant those breezes carried away the wise woman off my ledge just as quickly and quietly as she had come. And for me perched high above the canyon on that ledge, the search ended. My restlessness ended. My quest was complete. I no longer felt broken. The gentle breezes of the canyon that brought the Ancient Anasazi woman to me were now around me and inside of me. The canyon and I became one.”

“This story is for you,” the Ancient Anasazi woman said to me, and now I say to each of you. This story, my story is my gift to you. Perhaps it was Jesus transfigured before my very eyes in the form of an ancient Anasazi women. Perhaps it was the Holy Spirit. Perhaps it was God. Perhaps it was actually her – a woman from the Anasazi people! No matter what name you give this dazzling transfigured Spirit, it was one of the rare times when I was younger that I heard and felt and knew with no doubt that the Great Spirit loves me just way I am, no matter what and it’s all because we live on this side of the resurrection. It’s all because we are Easter people who kneel at the foot of the empty cross – the empty cross.

There is as urgency in telling you this story before our time together comes to an end. Why? My story invites your story. My story invites you to remember your story. What is your story? How do you know? How do you know you are God’s precious, beloved child? How has your life been changed by our beautiful Savior? Amen.

(Congregation sings hymn, “Beautiful Savior”)