Scripture: Exodus
24:12-18, Psalm 99, 2
Peter 1:16-21, Matthew 17:1-9
Today is Transfiguration Sunday, when we read the account of
Jesus taking Peter, James, and John – the three disciples closest to Jesus – to
the top of a mountain, leaving the other disciples at the bottom of the
mountain. This account is in three of
the Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke. At
the top of the mountain, the three disciples experienced a vision. We’re told that as they watched, the appearance
of Jesus changed – his face shown like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling
white – Mark’s version of the story says – “whiter than anyone on earth could
bleach them” which sounds a little like a Clorox commercial, but whatever…. And
then, next to Jesus, the disciples saw Moses and Elijah standing next to Jesus,
talking with him. And Peter – who could
reliably be counted on to open his mouth before his brain was fully engaged,
said, “Teacher, this is so cool – I’ll build three tents, one for you and one
for Moses and one for Elijah” – and if sounds like Peter had something like Woodstock
or Burning Man in mind, you might not be so far off. “This is so cool, Jesus,
let’s just hang out up here, you, Moses, Elijah, and the three of us, and let’s
be awesome together!”
And then, while Peter was running his mouth, we’re told a
bright cloud came and from the cloud came a voice that said, of Jesus, “This is
my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him.” And at that point, the disciples were so
scared they passed out. But then Jesus went up to them and touched
them, nudged them until they regained consciousness….. “Get up…don’t be afraid.” And when they came to, the vision of Moses and Elijah was gone, and
they just saw Jesus as they always had.
And Jesus told them not to tell anyone about the vision.
Down the mountain they went to rejoin the other nine
disciples…they had a theological discussion about the prophecy in Malachi that
before the Day of the Lord came, Elijah would return – and Jesus told them that
Elijah had returned, in the person of John the Baptist. And, warning the disciples of things to come,
Jesus told them that just as John had been executed, he would be executed as
well. He was definitely harshing the
mellow they had experienced at the top of the mountain.
And at the bottom of the mountain, the other nine disciples
aren’t having such a good time. When
Jesus and the three disciples rejoin them at the bottom of the mountain, a man
ran to Jesus and got down on his knees, telling Jesus that he had asked his
disciples to cure his epileptic son, and they weren’t able. Jesus loses all patience with them – any lingering
mellow from the mountaintop experience was totally harshed by this time – and
he yells at them – “how much longer do I have to put up with you people!” - but
he cures the boy. Later the disciples
ask him why they couldn’t cure him, and he said it was because of their lack of
faith.
This is a very rich passage - there’s a lot to chew on here
- and what are we to make of all this?
To touch on everything at length would have us here well into the
evening, and nobody wants that. But a
few things by way of background information – the ancient Hebrews thought that
since God lived in heaven and that mountains were closer to heaven, that
mountains were closer to God, that for humans, there was less distance between
them and God when they were on the mountaintops. The story of Jesus becoming radiant with
light is very similar to the Old Testament stories of Moses going to the
mountaintop to talk to God – or later going to the tent of meeting to talk with
God, and coming away from the meeting with God with his face radiant from the
experience. And of course, the vision of
Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah says that there’s a direct connection
between the work of Moses and Elijah – between the law and the prophets – and
the work of Jesus.
This mountaintop experience – and the healing in the valley
afterward – took place near the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry, as he was
preparing to leave Galilee to make the journey with his disciples to Jerusalem,
where he knew he would be killed. Time
was running short, and he needed to make sure his disciples understood what he
was trying to teach them, and that they would hang together after he had been
arrested – and the disciples were slow learners. Jesus wanted Peter, James, and John to catch
a glimpse of who he really was – not just a traveling teacher and healer, but
the Son of God – so that they could bear up under all that they would have to
go through. Jesus hoped this experience
would prepare the three to provide leadership and keep the rest of the
disciples together after Jesus had been arrested and executed. The words from the cloud – “This is my Son,
the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” – are the same words Jesus heard
at his baptism, and so they are like
bookends to the beginning and end of his earthly ministry – and of course the
disciples hear the additional words “Listen to Him”.
Jesus wanted
the three to catch a glimpse of who he really was, of the divinity that lived
beneath the flesh and blood of the traveling rabbi from Galilee. While I’m not Jesus – and neither are you –
we all have something of the divine within us, what the Quakers call “the light
within” or “that of God within us”. But
we often miss it in others, and even within ourselves. We often know people through their work or
by the context in which we experience them – this person is the barber; this is
the person who delivers the mail, this is the person who works at the 7-11, and
this person walks her dog on Almond Street – and unless we know them
personally, we only think of them cutting hair or delivering mail or ringing up
purchases or walking a dog. We may know little or nothing about their families,
about the struggles and joys. And even
if we know someone personally, there are often huge parts of their lives that
are hidden to us. We often read about
people who quietly helped others in amazing ways, and it only becomes known
after they’re gone – and we also sometimes read about persons whose evil
criminality is only discovered after they’ve died or moved and bodies have been
found in their basement and the back yard.
And so it may only be after they’re gone – after they’ve moved out of
the area, after they’ve died – that we realize what a difference our neighbors
have made, for good or for bad, in the lives of others. And even within ourselves, there is goodness
and there is brokenness that we can’t see ourselves. We may have habits or tics that we’re
completely unaware of, but that are utterly charming or utterly annoying to
those around us. And our perception is
often skewed – I know for myself that I can do an ok job on ten things and mess
up one thing, and the one thing I messed up is what I’ll obsess on. But no matter – each of us is a child of God,
infinitely loved. Each of us – you, me -
has something of God within us, something unique and irreplaceable. Each of us is a work in progress. If we’re open to God’s leading, we’re in
progress toward becoming the person God would have us be – and if we’re not
open to God’s leading, we’re still in the process of becoming. The Christian writer C. S. Lewis said that
“It is a
serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember
that the dullest, most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a
creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or
else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a
nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the
other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming
possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that
we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all
loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never
talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are
mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals
whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or
everlasting splendors.”[1]
And so maybe
this story will remind us to look at our neighbors and ourselves with more
receptive eyes, with more perceptive minds, and with thankful hearts.
Jesus
revealed himself in a special way to his three disciples on the
mountaintop. But then they had to go
down into the valley. And that’s how it
is with us. We can come to church, and
hopefully be moved, challenged, comforted, inspired….or if not, maybe amused
sometimes…or at least hopefully kept awake. (Hey, I’ll take what I can get…..) But we can’t stay here, just as Peter
couldn’t pitch a tent and stay up on the mountain. We have to go back out into the world, back
out to our neighbors, with their needs and their complaints and their hopes that
maybe we can make their lives better in some way. Just as the disciples vision on the
mountaintop was preparation for the road to Jerusalem, our time in here is
preparation for our work out there in the world, our work here in Bridesburg
trying to help people have an experience of God’s love in their lives, through
our words and our actions. We can
remember that God is there also, not only in church, just as God was not only
on the mountaintop, but in the valley as well.
For me, this
weekend was sort of a mountaintop and valley experience. Yesterday we had the wedding of Holly and
Codi, and it was a kind of Transfiguration moment – the church looking its
best, beautiful organ music from Risa, radiant bride, lovely bridal party. We don’t have a lot of weddings here anymore
– this was our first since August 2008, eight and a half years ago – and it was
a blessing. And Friday night, while the
rehearsal was going on, Dee was giving birth to Baby Abigail, and while Abigail
was fine, there were mixed messages about how Dee was doing – hers was somewhat
of a high risk pregnancy. And so after
the wedding rehearsal, I shuttled downtown to Pennsylvania Hospital to look in
on the situation – and everything was fine, Dee was exhausted but healthy, and
Abigail was resting, though she had been making noises a little earlier - and
God was there in the delivery room and recovery room at Pennsylvania Hospital,
just as God was at the church for the wedding.
God was on
the mountaintop, and God was in the valley.
On the mountain and in the valley, may we be open to the goodness that
God has put in each of us. May we be
receptive to God’s presence wherever we go.
And may we remember the words from the cloud to the disciples: This is my Son, the Beloved…Listen to
Him. Amen.
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