On this last Sunday of the season of Epiphany, before we embark on the annual Lenten journey, churches all over the world are hearing the story we just heard Kyle/Beverly read so well-the story of The Transfiguration of Jesus. It is truly the climax of this season, a season that began with the light of a star guiding the Wise Men to the place of the birth. That light now explodes into full glory in the face of the one who will rise from the dead.

Jesus Christ is the Light of the World, from humble birth to glorious Transfiguration.

The image of that glorious light radiating from the face of Christ on the mountaintop to illumine the world brought to mind a recent photograph I saw of the exterior of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. Just in time for Christmas this past year, the exterior lighting on that magnificent gothic cathedral was completely re-done, in a project conceived jointly by the mayor and the archbishop of Paris. The goal was to reveal, in the best possible way, the majestic façade and rich statuary of the cathedral's architecture.

The design employs a mix of traditional lighting and new fiber optics. The lighting plan is original and imaginative, scientific and artistic. Floodlights open up the building's great lines and curves and patterns, and smaller lights reveal its many gargoyles, statues and the intricate angles of its patterned towers. The many details are illuminated by invisible fiber optics, through hundreds of meters of tiny tubes over the face of the building. It is a warm, white light, designed to best reveal the beauty of the limestone. And, interestingly enough, this new lighting design is not only more stunning and gorgeous than the former, which dated from 1954, it is also much more energy efficient.

One of the artists who designed the cathedral's new lighting said, "This is a work of illumina-tion which reveals simultaneously both the profoundness and the transparency of the façade." This is a glorious new transfiguration of this ancient cathedral, whose light now shines through the darkness of every night to majestically witness to Jesus Christ, the light of the world. The grandness of the light of the cathedral is appropriate to the world stage, to the great human dramas of civilization and history, to the affairs of nations, to culture and art and the grand scale of human existence. Christ is the light of the world.

And, at the same time, of course, Christ is the light in the heart of every believer. Christ is the light of our lives. It is that very personal and intimate and life-sized light that opens our eyes and makes our relationships more beautiful. It is the light that shone on the stable at the birth of the infant Jesus in the deep darkness of the night. It is that precious light that glimmers through our darkness. It is the light that illumines our path and reveals our dreams and gives visible form to our love. This light reveals the profoundness of our soul and the transparency of our faith. In the face of a child, as on the façade of a great cathedral, the light of Christ is the light of the world.

I've spoken with many of you this week who were saddened, as was I, at the news of the death of Mister Rogers. Fred Rogers, through his TV show on public television, taught generations and generations of children how to get along and what it means to live together in a neighborhood. He was humble, gentle, unassuming, and homemade through and through. His mother knit most all those sweaters we saw him in over the years. He was the show's host, producer and chief puppeteer. His show used no animation, no fast cuts, no special effects.

Fred Rogers was devoted to dealing head-on with the emotional life of children, confronting their fears, encouraging their imaginations, and assuring them. His songs and stories covered everything ranging from how to set the table to feelings about your parents' divorce to dealing with your anger to the childhood fear of being sucked down the bathtub drain with the water. He once wrote that he wanted to encourage in his audience self-esteem, self-control, imagination, creativity, curiosity, appreciation of diversity, cooperation, tolerance for waiting and persistence. His website, www.misterrogers.org, now even contains a special message to help parents deal with their children about his death. There's a word to parents, too, who themselves have grown up watching him. "You may be surprised to find you're more upset than your child. It's OK to cry, and to smile again later on."

You may not know that Fred Rogers was an ordained Presbyterian minister, charged with a special mission of using the media to help families and children. At the heart of his work lies a profound message of love that he first learned from his grandfather, who modeled for him the trusting, patient behavior that became his hallmark. Fred's signature line, "I like you just the way you are," was taken nearly verbatim from his grandfather, with whom he spent winters in Florida.

"I think it was when I was leaving one time to go home after our time together that my grandfather said to me, 'You know, you made this day a really special day. Just by being yourself. There's only one person in the world like you. And I happen to like you just the way you are.'"

The light of Christ shone from the face of Fred Rogers. From the light illuminating a great cathedral to the light of one face, the light of Christ shines in the world to light our darkness and show us the path to God's love. From the world stage, to the face of one child, that light shines. It is a reflection of the love in the heart of our God, a love so great as to send his only son to be incarnate among us, to preach, to teach and to heal, to live and suffer and die, and rise again from the dead, he who is the light of the world.

As we prepare our hearts now to come forward and receive this sacrament, may the light shine through this holy meal of bread and wine. May we see the light of Christ transfigured into elements we can see and touch and taste. May we hear him saying to us, "I love you just the way you are." And, as we turn to go, may his light shine forth from our lives to illumine the world around us and bring joy and peace to everyone we meet.

Amen.

© Patricia E. Farris, 2003. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.