Up and Down

Scripture:        2 Kings 2:1-12,   Psalm 50:1-6

                        2 Corinthians 4: 3-6,  Mark 9:2-29

How ‘bout them Eagles!  What an amazing game they played Sunday night….a game in which Nick Foles threw a touchdown pass and caught a touchdown pass in the same game, a first, we’re told….it’s not every day you see a quarterback making a catch in the end zone, but there he was….a game in which the phrase “Philly special” gained a whole new meaning, a game that could have gone either way literally up to the last second, when everybody watching, regardless who they supported, was holding their breath waiting to see whether somebody would catch Tom Brady’s last second Hail Mary pass.  And what a city of Philadelphia, with Center City mobbed, literally standing room only from City Hall to the Art Museum steps, with smaller but equally packed gatherings at Richmond and Orthodox and South Philly and any number of other locations.   Eagles fans have been known to boo Santa Claus, but there was no booing this week. Jason Kelce’s speech, which he delivered wearing a surreal Mummers costume, said it all – an underdog is a hungry dog.  Truly, it has been a week for the history books – at least for sports history books and Philadelphia history books.  The Eagles – and this city – transcended themselves, becoming bigger than life, revealing to the country a side of Philadelphia that’s always been there, but rarely seen outside city limits.

In our Gospel reading, Jesus revealed previously hidden aspects of himself to Peter, James, and John, the inner circle of the disciples.  The season we’ve been in, Epiphany, is a season in which Jesus is revealed to others, beginning with the Magi coming to see the Christ child, and ending with Transfiguration Sunday, in which Jesus revealed himself more fully to the inner circle of his disciples.  Between Epiphany Sunday and Transfiguration, Jesus has revealed himself through his teaching, his healings and casting out of demons.  But there were many rabbis and teachers both in Galilee and Judea, and any number of healers and exorcists working in the region, and so these acts in and of themselves did not necessarily make Jesus unique – though Jesus used them in a unique way, not to glorify himself but to point to the coming of God’s reign breaking into the world.  Our Gospel reading describes a brief moment in which Jesus revealed himself as being bigger than life, as possessing a power and glory, a connection to the divine, far beyond that of any other teacher or healer.

Jesus’ disciples had been through a bit of a hard slog leading up to this moment.  In response to Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am,” Peter answered to Jesus, “You are the Messiah” – a correct answer so far as it went.  But while Peter had visions of glory, Jesus foresaw something very different. He had begun to teach his disciples that he would be rejected, would suffer and die, and rise on the third day – and that his disciples likewise would have to deny themselves and take up the cross to follow him.  Surely, having heard all this, the disciples must have been having second thoughts.

And so we’re told, six days after all this, Jesus took Peter, James, and John to the top of a high mountain, where his appearance was transformed before their eyes, becoming radiant.  Moses and Elijah appeared – representing the law around which the Jewish people had organized their lives, and the great prophetic tradition that insisted on justice and mercy – and Jesus was in conversation with them – demonstrating that the work of Jesus was a continuation and fulfillment of all that Moses and Elijah had done.  Mark doesn’t tell us what they talked about, but Luke’s gospel tells us they spoke about Jesus’ impending suffering and death.  And Peter started babbling, saying, “Rabbi, it is good to be here; let’s set up three booths, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.”  Peter wanted to hold on to the moment.  Today he’d likely have gotten his cell phone and a selfie stick and taken a picture of himself, with Jesus and Moses and Elijah in the background.  Imagine all the likes he’d have gotten on Facebook and Instagram!  But, we’re told, a cloud blocked out the view, and a voice from heaven said – “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.”  These were the words Jesus heard from heaven at his baptism, but now the three disciples heard the words as well.  And then the moment passed, and they saw Jesus, alone, as they had always seen him.  And as they made their way down the mountain, Jesus told them, basically:  “Keep this between us.  Don’t tell the others.”  And, we’re told, they kept the secret until after the resurrection. 

Why did Jesus do this?  Did he just indulge a momentary urge to show off? No – I see this both as a teaching moment and a nurturing moment.  Remember that Jesus had spent the preceding days laying some heavy information on the disciples, about suffering, rejection and death, not only for himself but for them as well.  Jesus had been warning his disciples that from a worldly point of view, despite all of his healings and teachings, despite the crowds, Jesus’ ministry was destined to go down in flames, destined from a worldly point of view to come to nothing.  If they thought Jesus was going to lead some mass movement of Jews to kick Roman butt and march on to independence, they were barking up the wrong tree.  Jesus was not that guy.  From a human point of view, Jesus told his disciples, he was destined not for a crown, but for a cross – in our terms and using modern technology, Jesus told his disciples that he was destined, not to be seated on a throne, but to be strapped into an electric chair.  And so he warned them, again and again:  don’t get caught up in visions of earthly glory.  The road we’re on doesn’t take us there.  Count the cost, and be ready to suffer.  At the same time, Jesus was also reassuring his disciples that his suffering and death were not the end, that he would rise again, and that his disciples would continue the work he had begun.  He taught them that both he and they would suffer, and that on the other side of that suffering was resurrection.  The vision seen by Peter, James, and John was a glimpse, a foretaste, of what would be on the other side of suffering and death.  This vision would keep them going through the growing opposition Jesus faced, ending in his arrest and crucifixion.  And, after the resurrection, then they could share with the others the vision they had seen.

It may be a bit hard to connect to this story – it seems like a one-of-a-kind Jesus moment, enclosed in a kind of Biblical glass case like some one-of-a-kind specimen in a museum, separated from us by centuries and never to be repeated.  And, of course, only Jesus gets to be Jesus.  But we are all created in God’s image, however broken and limited we may be, all created with something of the divine within us – and the world we live in was pronounced by God to be good, and in its own way reflects God’s glory.  Each of us possess, in our own way, a wisdom born out of our own life experiences, if we are willing to reflect on them and learn from them.  What Jesus demonstrated in his earthly life is available in smaller ways to us as his followers, if we are faithful.  And so, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear, we may experience moments of transcendence, moments of awe, moments in which we feel especially connected to all that is good in the universe.  For some, this may come in nature; for others, it may come in encounters with other people.   Some may have felt something close to awe standing in that enormous crowd at the Parkway, surrounded by so many kindred spirits.  And, heaven help us, it may even come in church, here at Emanuel Church, even with our small numbers and despite my limitations as a worship leader.  Hard for me to imagine much transcendent awesomeness happening with a nearsighted, half-deaf pastor struggling to hear prayer requests and dropping pens on the carpet and fumbling papers on the lectern and losing my place while we’re singing…I believe it was Annie Dillard who wrote that to God, even the most awesome worship is like a high school play full of flubbed lines and miscues, and it feels like that here some Sundays……but even despite all that, for us, there may be some moments of transcendence, moments of connection, moments of awe at a God who can work even in the most humble of faith communities.

But moments pass.  Visions pass.  Worship services end.  Even Nick Foles got up this morning and put his pants on one leg at a time, and even Jason Kelce got up this morning with bed head and morning breath, just like me.  After the vision of Transfiguration passed, Jesus and his disciples went down the mountain.  They had an enlightening theological discussion about Elijah and John the Baptist on the way down, but even that moment passed when they got to the bottom of the mountain and found a crowd, a spirit-possessed boy overcome with what we’d recognize as symptoms of epilepsy, a frantic father, and a bunch of clueless disciples who were in way over their heads.  It wasn’t quite as bad as Moses coming down off Mt. Sinai to find the people dancing around the golden calf his brother Aaron had made, but still, it wasn’t the disciples’ finest hour.  No wonder Jesus lost his temper and ended up screaming at everybody, “How much longer do I have to put up with you people!”  Even so, he restored the boy to his father, restored to health and sound of mind.  And afterward, he told his disciples, “in situations like this, to bring healing, ya gotta pray.”

Savor life’s mountaintop moments.  Savor those moments in which in your heart of hearts you feel your unbreakable connection to God, to every other human being, and to all of creation – because that is the ultimate reality hidden beneath all of life’s complications and contradictions.  Accept these moments of awe and transcendence and connection as bread for the journey, as provisions for the road when the hard times come.  Know that we worship an awesome God who will not leave us nor forsake us, whether we’re atop the highest mountain or at the bottom of the deepest valley, or anywhere in between.  Thanks be to God. Amen.