(Scripture: 2 Kings 2:1-12, 2 Corinthians 4:3-6, Mark 9:2-9)
*The title is from a book by theologian Marcus Borg
Have you ever had the experience of meeting someone you know in a particular role, and seeing them in a different context outside that role? Such moments can be revealing. When I was in my teens I washed dishes at a bar and grill in my hometown, at which many of my high school teachers stopped by now and then for a drink at the end of the day – and it was quite different seeing them outside their classroom role, as they let their hair down a bit. For me, a more powerful example was seeing a woman I once tutored in literacy, who I normally experienced as tired and downtrodden, in another setting with her family, dancing with exuberance.
Today is Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday before Lent. In the Transfiguration, the inner circle of the disciples – Peter, James, and John – are given a glimpse of Jesus’ glory, in preparation for the journey to Jerusalem and the events of Holy Week. Accounts of the Transfiguration appear in all three of the Synoptic Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – and some scholars believe that the phrase in the 1st chapter of John’s Gospel – “And we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” – is John’s reference to the transfiguration. So for at least three of the Gospel writer, and perhaps all four, the account of the Transfiguration was necessary in order to understand who Jesus is.
The Transfiguration comes at a time when the disciples, and especially the inner circle, aren’t quite sure who Jesus is. Not long before, Jesus had asked his disciples “who do you say that I am,” and Peter blurted you, “You are the Messiah.” Jesus than began to speak of the suffering he must undergo. When Peter questioned Jesus’ words, Jesus rebuked him, and began to say that as his followers, they, too, must take up the cross and follow him. Jesus told them, “Those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and the sake of the gospel, will save it. He concluded this teaching by saying, “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the Kingdom of God has come with power.”
That’s the background. Today’s reading begins by telling us that “six days later” – six days after all this grappling with Jesus’ identity – Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John, and went up to a high mountain, where they went off by themselves. The setting is intended to remind us of the Exodus 24 account of Moses and the elders in God’s presence at Mt. Sinai. As Moses and the elders had been on Mt Sinai with God, so Peter, James and John were on the mountain with Jesus. Suddenly Jesus’ clothing becomes dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear, representing the law and the prophets – and they dialogue with Jesus. Mark and Matthew don’t tell us what they talk about, but Luke tells us they are talking about what will happen to him in Jerusalem, about the suffering he would undergo. Peter wants to savor the moment, and so he starts babbling about building three huts for Jesus, Moses and Elijah to stay in. A cloud overshadows them, and from the cloud comes a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved, listen to him!” Jesus heard these words from heaven at his baptism, and now the inner circle of the disciples are given a chance to hear them as well. And then the vision ends, and they are alone with Jesus once again.
Three of the Gospel writers felt their readers needed to know this information in order to understand who Jesus is. Perhaps there was concern that, like Peter, they would think that being Messiah meant that Jesus would not suffer. Or, perhaps, that because Jesus suffered, he couldn’t be the Messiah. But the Gospels want to underscore that Jesus is the Messiah who suffers. He is the suffering Messiah. It’s not one or the other – both are true. Both suffering and glory are part of the package. Both suffering and glory are what Jesus is about. After telling us about Jesus teaching and healing, casting out demons and cleansing lepers, we could come to think that was the entirety of what Jesus had to offer – similar to the way that I thought my boss’s work personality was all there was. But Jesus wants Peter,. James, and John, the closest of his disciples, to know that there was more to Jesus, to get at least a glimpse of Jesus in his fullness.
It can be like that with us. It’s so easy to live on the surface, to live as though what we see is all there is. We see people in their accustomed roles – family member, neighbor, coworker, teller at the bank, barber, hairdresser, owner of the shop where we drop off our dry cleaning – person who sits near us at church - and we think that who these people are to us is who they are in their entirety. We don’t experience people in their full humanity. But because God is at work in our neighbors, as God is at work in us, we and they are not defined by jobs or social roles, but as human beings created in God’s image, and – for Christians – by their baptismal vows as children of God, disciples of Christ, members of Christ’s church. Similarly, if we’ve been hanging around the church for a while, we define the church by our childhood memories, by those we know at church and by those holy moments over our lives that took place in the church. That’s what the church is for us - but that’s not all the church is. In our comfort and coziness we may miss the holiness, the transcendence, the sheer “otherness” of God. God, the Holy One, is present here – to use the Lutheran phrase regarding communion, God is present in, with, and under, not only the elements of communion, but the people who worship here and all that takes place here. Behind all of it – the people, the hymns, the coffee hour, the fellowship – is God, the Holy One, the creator of all things. Like Isaiah, we may go to the Temple expecting the same old same old, only to find ourselves transformed by an encounter with the holy. I’m reminded of these words from writer Annie Dillard:
“On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.”
(Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk, Harper & Row, 1982)
At the Transfiguration, Peter, James and John got a glimpse of the power and sheer awesomeness of the One they had called their Master. And they were drawn out to where they could no longer return to the lives they had led before meeting Jesus. Jesus was transfigured, and those who walked with Jesus were transformed. As Jesus became so filled with light that his very clothing became dazzling white, as we draw closer to Christ, the light and love of God shines through us to warm and lighten the way for our neighbors.
Though Peter, James and John had walked many long roads with Jesus, on the mount of Transfiguration it was as though they met Jesus again for the first time. As God’s love works in our lives, may we likewise meet Jesus again for the first time – and in meeting Jesus, may we be reintroduced to our families, our coworkers, our neighbors, perhaps getting a glimpse of them and of ourselves as God sees us, as God’s beloved. May it be so with us. Amen.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
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