Matthew 17:1-9; II Peter 1:16-21
February 3, 2008
Psalm 99; Exodus 24:12-18
Allan Klassen
Glory in the Face of Death
In the ancient world, clouds were signs both of mystery and
of majesty. In today’s society some of the mystery is gone because of greater
scientific understanding of the nature and origin of clouds. But even today, on
a warm summer day clouds may provide opportunities for us to imagine all kinds
of figures and images. Clouds can be portents of weather conditions to come, and
even people of earlier times and less sophisticated knowledge understood this
reality well. And throughout the biblical record clouds appear as important
symbols, sometimes protective, sometimes ominous, sometimes as shrouds of
mystery.
Today’s gospel reading of the account of the Transfiguration of Jesus is one of
those. In the tradition of the church year, Transfiguration Sunday marks the end
of the season of Epiphany, and the time when we move into the Lenten season. It
is the Sunday before we begin our journey to the cross. The Transfiguration,
along with Jesus’ baptism (the topic of Patrick’s sermon, January 13), are
important foundations for the Christian celebration of Jesus’ ministry and
teaching to the world. Central to both events is the voice of God speaking –
once from heaven and once from a cloud – the voice of God affirming that Jesus
is God’s Son (God’s beloved Son) and that consequently, what he has to say is
worth listening to. It is the confirmation that Jesus’ purpose and mission was
to reveal the nature of God (and God’s message) to the world (to us).
The Transfiguration account follows shortly after Peter’s declaration that Jesus
is “the Messiah, The Son of the living God”.(16:16) And it occurs immediately
after Jesus has begun to convey to the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem
and undergo great suffering and be killed. And in addition to the foretelling of
his death, Jesus has also warned that if any want to become his followers they
must also “take up their cross” even if it means losing their lives. Six days
later, it says, Jesus takes Peter, James and John up to a high mountain. And
while there, strange things take place. Moses and Elijah, long dead, appear and
talk with Jesus, and the voice of God thunders from a cloud (at least I assume
that’s how God speaks here, although we know that it is not always so), the
voice of God thunders that Jesus is God’s Son, God’s Beloved Son and that he
should be listened to.
The appearance of Moses and Elijah in the Transfiguration event was not merely a
random selection of persons out of history. Moses, as intermediary, was the
supreme law-giver of Israel. It was through Moses that the nation had received
the laws of God on Mount Sinai – it was through Moses that the Ten Commandments
had been given. These great laws, although somewhat denigrated by the addition
of too many picky rules, continued to serve as important guides and restraints
for religious life.
Elijah was the first and greatest of the prophets. He represented all those men
and women who had been chosen, and who were willing to be the very voice of God
to the people.
Their messages were rarely received with enthusiasm, but they performed an
important role in directing the lives and activities of the people – an
important role in naming sin and in calling people back to God when they had
lost their way.
Moses and Elijah appear together with Jesus to symbolically emphasize that the
ways in which God deals with those created in God’s image are all part of a
continuum – that God’s ways with us are not capricious or disjointed – that they
do not change with the generations. The conversation of Moses and Elijah with
Jesus concerning the imminent events at Jerusalem is a clear indication of the
unity of God’s activities and purpose in the law, the prophets and Jesus. Three
approaches employed, but with a common purpose – to reveal the nature of God and
to reveal God’s plan and purpose for creation. Three initiatives utilized to
invite and encourage God’s people to connect with God and to respond and to do
the things that God does.
The Exodus from Egypt forever remains one of the pivotal events in the story of
the people of Israel. Exodus describes what might well be called the most
adventurous journey in human history, a journey in which an entire people went
out into the unknown, utterly trusting in God. This was very much what Jesus was
about to do. In unqualified trust in God he was going to set out on the
frightening adventure of the journey to Jerusalem – a journey beset with perils
– a journey to the cross.
Out of the cloud on the high mountain came the voice of God to assure Jesus that
he was on the right way – to add another voice to the confirmation already given
by the law and the prophets. The cloud was part of Israel’s history. All through
that history the luminous cloud stood for the “shekinah” which was the presence
of the glory of God. Now out of that cloud, and in keeping with the past, God’s
glory is revealed again, this time to place the divine stamp of approval on the
Son, Jesus. In Moses and Elijah as it were, all of human history had risen up to
affirm Jesus in the journey to the cross. Now the very presence of God had
joined in that affirmation. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well
pleased; listen to him!”
But the experience on the mountain was also important for Peter, James and John
(as well as others who heard it second hand). Jesus insistence that he must go
to Jerusalem to suffer and die was confusing and disheartening to them. Both
Matthew and Mark record how Peter rebukes Jesus for even mentioning it as a
possibility. When Jesus counters with his own rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan!”
the situation only becomes more bewildering. In the Transfiguration event
Peter’s confession of, “You are the Messiah the Son of the living God” (16:16)
was divinely validated. Here Jesus is bathed in glorious light, and the very
voice of God echoes and confirms the words blurted out by Peter not that much
earlier. While it is obvious that even after this the disciples did not fully
comprehend all that was transpiring, they received at least a glimmering of
realization that events were not entirely in human control – began to see that
God was intimately involved and would play a key role in the outcome.
In retrospect, they knew that the Transfiguration event on the mountain was not
merely a random event. In retrospect, they knew that following this was Jesus’
journey to Jerusalem to face crucifixion, and they knew that what they saw and
heard on the mountain was part of the history of salvation. God confirmed that
Jesus was indeed the Son, the Chosen one, the Beloved. Twice now Jesus had
received that visible and audible confirmation – first at his baptism and now
here on the mountain. This confirmation was also vital for the establishment and
growth of the church. People staked their faith in it – even staked their very
lives on it. Our epistle reading from II Peter emphasizes this point.
“For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the
power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his
majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was
conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with
whom I am well pleased’. We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while
we were with him on the holy mountain. So we have the prophetic message more
fully confirmed. You do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a
dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”
(1:16-19)
So the remembering of the Transfiguration experience was important for the life
of the early church. How is the Transfiguration account significant for our
journey into Lent? How is it important for our journey with Jesus to the cross?
Our encounters with God may occur under various circumstances. Like the
Transfiguration, they may occur as “mountain top” experiences – experiences
where goodness meets us and our lives are led in pleasant places – experiences
where we are in awe of personal gifts and grace that we do not deserve and which
we may have done nothing to earn. As we contemplate our good fortune (and more
frequently only in retrospect) we are led to confess that God has indeed
intervened in our lives – led to confess that God’s loving care has come very
near to us.
Other encounters with God may occur in the difficult, distressing, troubling
periods in our lives. They may occur as we bombard God with our questions as to
why we, or those near and dear to us, are experiencing physical or emotional
pain, or perhaps even facing death. They may occur when we have used up our own
meager resources and need help from outside of ourselves. Given our independent,
self-reliant natures, the reality is that for some of us these may sometimes be
the main times when we encounter God.
No doubt, Peter, James and John would have preferred to remain on the mountain.
They would have preferred that this moment of ecstasy and glory could be
prolonged. They did not want to go back down to the everyday, ordinary things.
They certainly did not want to go down to the agonizing events that were to
come. These are feelings we share with the disciples. The moments of ecstasy, of
intimacy, of serenity, of peace, of nearness to God are moments which we too
wish could be prolonged. The mountain top experiences are always too short.
We struggle with why our most profound spiritual experiences are so short-lived.
Like Peter, we too would wish to erect dwellings which might capture and prolong
the inspiration of the moment. But we too cannot, for we are on a journey – on a
journey that moves from valleys to mountaintops and from mountaintops back to
valleys – on a journey that moves from Bethlehem to Jerusalem- on a journey to
the cross. In the eloquent words of Ann Weems, “If I stay in Bethlehem, I stay
alone. God has gone on to Jerusalem.
Looking toward Jerusalem
The journey to Bethlehem was much more to my liking.
I am content kneeling here, where there’s an aura of angels,
and the ever present procession of shepherds and of kings
who’ve come to kneel to the newborn in whom we are newborn.
I want to linger here in Bethlehem in joy and celebration,
knowing once I set my feet toward Jerusalem,
the child will grow and I will be asked to follow.
The time of light and angels is drawing to a close.
Just when I’ve settled contentedly into the quiet wonder of star and child,
he bids me leave and follow.
How can I be expected to go back into darkness,
after sitting mangerside bathed in such light?
I’m not sure I can stand the stress and pain;
I have enough of those already.
Besides, I’ve found the lighting on the road to Jerusalem is very poor.
This time there is no Star.
The shepherds have left; they’ve returned to hillside and to sheep.
The Magi, too, have gone, having been warned in a dream, as was Joseph,
who packed up his family and fled.
If I stay in Bethlehem, I stay alone.
God has gone on toward Jerusalem. Ann Weems – Kneeling in Jerusalem, p.14
The location of the Transfiguration narrative in the biblical text reminds us
that we cannot witness to the glory and majesty of Jesus (and of God) – cannot
witness to Jesus’ birth, resurrection and ascension – without also paying
attention to his suffering and death. We are reminded of this as we move into
the season of Lent. Along with the disciples we are caught in between two
realities, one a revelation of God’s glory and majesty and Jesus’ intimate part
in that, and the other the foreboding of cruel and painful things to come. We
have seen the glorious light, we have heard God’s affirmation from the cloud,
but now it is time to move on toward Jerusalem, time to begin our somber journey
to the cross. And we are reminded that if this is the way that God accepts, as
followers of God we too are called to be willing to travel a similar path. May
God’s love, grace and mercy go with each of us on this journey.