Transfiguration Sunday

Old Testament: Exodus 34:29-35, 2 Kings 19:1-18
New Testament: Luke 9:28-36

Today is transfiguration Sunday, as I’m sure you’re all aware. By now, I know you’ve all sent out your Transfiguration Sunday cards, put up the Transfiguration Sunday Tree and gotten sick of the malls, which have been playing Transfiguration Sunday music for the past two-and-a-half months. Or perhaps not. Obviously, this is not a well-known holiday, and I’ll be honest, I had to go through a number of Bible commentaries before I could even begin to think of what God was calling me to say today.

As I sat down to write this message, I was still having a bit of trouble getting started when my eyes fell upon three fortune cookies from some long-forgotten meal. I was a little hungry, so I cracked one open. Popping half of it in my mouth, I pulled out the paper fortune and read, “Your present plans are going to succeed.” It was a comforting message, especially considering that, as I found out later, the other two messages were “You will be surrounded by luxury” and “You will be showered by good luch.” I assume they meant to write “luck” or, possibly, “lunch,” but that’s probably beside the point.

“Your present plans are going to succeed.” The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that God was trying to tell me something with that little fortune cookie, trying to push me in the right direction. Because, as I see it, that was God’s message to Jesus as he stood atop that mountain, glowing in the presence of God, in the presence of his apostles, in the presence of two of the greatest heroes his faith had ever known – the law and the prophet. In front of everybody, God said, “This is my son, my Chosen – Listen to him!”

This is obviously a pivotal point in history, a miracle, a revelation. Three of the Gospels mention this story – only John leaves it out. This is important, important stuff. And yet, the story ends by saying the apostles “kept silent” and “told no one any of the things they had seen.” Matthew and Mark both tell us Jesus commanded his apostles to keep what had happened under their hats, but Luke’s account leaves out that detail. In fact, Luke doesn’t record any words from Jesus as they traveled back down from the mountain.

There are a number of characters in this story, all of whom must have different perspectives on what happened. One method of studying the Bible asks us to take on the perspective of a person in the story. I first want to take a look at Peter, who is perhaps one of the people we can most easily identify with.


Peter

The story begins about a week after one of the biggest moments of Peter’s life. Jesus had just asked his apostles, “Who do you say I am?” And Peter replied, “The Messiah of God.” He’d said it without thinking – he was an impetuous man, by nature – and as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he was worried about how Jesus would react. But he didn’t have much to worry about, because Jesus had a big smile on his face. It was then that he had first given his apostle the nickname Peter – Rocky, in Greek.

Jesus laughed and said that, for someone with such a thick skull, Peter had hit the nail on the head. Then Jesus, confusing as ever, told them all to keep this to themselves. He told his followers they had to lose their lives in order to save them. He told them a whole lot more, but to be honest, most of it went over Peter’s head; not only was he impetuous, but he had a tendency to let his attention wander.

Peter, John and James had been talking together when Jesus came upon them, about eight days after Peter’s confession. He invited them to go up the mountain with him to pray, and though they were bone tired, all three of them agreed to go. You see, they were enamored with Jesus at this point, and the three of them agreed there wasn’t anywhere he could go that they wouldn’t follow.

Peter frowned to himself as they huffed and puffed their way up the mountain. “Jesus is always doing this,” he thought. “Trying to find some new hideaway where he can pray. But I’ve seen him pray everywhere. We don’t need to be doing this right now, especially when I’m so tired.” But he didn’t say anything out loud, because of course he was still riding the high of the week before.

After about an hour and a half of being reminded how much better shape Jesus was in, he told them to stop; they’d reached a summit, and he was ready to pray. Peter suggested the three apostles give Jesus some privacy and take a break. He instantly regretted it when he saw the look in Jesus’ eyes, but their teacher agreed and told them to rest a little while as he went on ahead.

“What did you have to say that for?” James asked, although all three of them were exhausted and, though none would admit it, glad that Jesus hadn’t asked them to join him. They sat down on the ground and started to doze off. And none of them woke until they heard a yell from just up ahead that they didn’t recognize.


Moses

The yell had come from Moses, who was used to climbing Mount Sinai to talk to God, but who was also used to being alone when he did so.

This morning he’d gotten up, just like every other day, put on his sandals and picked up his hiking stick. He kissed his wife goodbye and told her he’d be back soon. The climb took several hours and he was not as young as he used to be. He winced at the pain in his knees but kept moving. He knew it was important work, but there was something more, too. As he got closer to the top of the mountain, he felt a certain – well, he wasn’t exactly sure how he’d describe it. He was excited to be with his friend again, to hear his voice, if only for a while.

You see, God had given Moses back his life, after Moses had all but given up on it. He’d killed a man – an Egyptian – and people knew. Moses realized how cowardly it was to run, but he just couldn’t face being judged and he was certain he wouldn’t survive the punishment. But God had changed all that. He’d returned Moses to Israel and given him a mission. He’d been with Moses and the Israelites all this time, freeing them, parting the sea, feeding them Manna in the wilderness.

Sure, there had been hard times. There had been moments when Moses wanted to give up and – Moses wasn’t sure about this – it seemed like there were moments when God had wanted to give up, too. But over the years they had both managed to talk one another out of it. They had been through so much together, and Moses couldn’t help but smile as he reached the top of the mountain.

But his smile melted away when he saw, not 20 feet away, another man, dressed in strange clothing, bent over in prayer. He heard a rustling in the bushes a little ways off to the left, and another man appeared, his eyes wild and frantic. Moses couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on.


Elijah

Elijah was angry. He was angry and scared and tired, and he didn’t want to be on this mountain – Horeb – he wanted to be home, in a bed, with a full stomach and a fresh set of clothes. He’d just spent the past forty days traveling to this mountain, had begged God to let him off the hook – to kill him, even, if that’s what it would take – and God had responded with a very clear, “NO.”

Elijah had been through wind and fire and an earthquake, and when all was said and done, God had sent him on yet another mission, as if all the ones that had come before meant nothing. It was time for retirement, but God would have none of it. And so it was that Elijah stumbled out of the brush and into the presence of two men whom he’d never seen before in his life. Overcome with paranoia, Elijah was certain these men would kill him.

“Who are you?” Elijah asked, crabbily, expecting the worst. The one on his knees looked up and said nothing. The older one, with the cane, was silent also. “Well? Come on, I haven’t got all day.”

“I am Moses, sent by I-AM-WHO-I-AM,” replied the older one, who seemed to be gathering his courage.

The young one looked surprised at this (to be honest, Elijah was as well) and, getting to his feet, he said, “I am Jesus … of Nazareth. Who are you, may I ask?”

They both looked at Elijah, who was still angry but was also nearly convinced they wouldn’t hurt him. He sighed deeply and said, “I am Elijah, the last prophet.”

Jesus smiled. “Moses … and Elijah,” he said. “The law and the prophet.”

Suddenly, recognition flashed through Elijah’s mind. This young man seemed to think – no, it couldn’t be. “That’s preposterous!” he cried.

“What are you talking about?” Moses asked.

“This young man,” Elijah began, and laughed. “This young man thinks you’re the Moses who brought us the Ten Commandments and the law!”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, he’s right,” Moses replied. “God gave them to me at this very spot where we are standing.”

Elijah was stunned and convinced that these two were both crazier than even he himself appeared (and he’d been told he appeared very crazy). “And you,” Jesus said to him, “You are a great prophet, but not the last. You defeated all 400 prophets of Baal.”

“I- I did,” Elijah stuttered. “Who did you say you were again?”

“He is the Son,” Moses said, suddenly and confidently. “Don’t you recognize him? He is the one God is always talking about. The Son.”

“Of course,” Elijah thought. “How could I have missed it?” At this, the two older men rushed toward him and fell to their knees. And as Elijah looked up at him, he realized Jesus’ face and clothing had started to glow.


Jesus

“Is that what I look like when I come down from the mountain?” Moses asked, laughing. “No wonder my brother and all the others are afraid!”

The three of them had been talking for almost an hour, and Jesus was enjoying himself more than ever before. “Tell us again about the fire that came down from heaven,” he asked Elijah, but the prophet smiled and shook his head.

“We’ve said so much already,” he replied. “We have questions of our own. For example, who are those three men, sleeping over there?”

Jesus’ face grew conflicted. “Their names are Peter, James and John,” he said. “They’re three of my apostles. I asked them to come along to pray with me, but they were tired and fell asleep.”

“They came a long way,” Moses said. “You have to give them credit for that.”

“Of course,” Jesus agreed. “Their hearts are in the right place, and I love them more than I ever thought possible-” he trailed off.

“But?” asked Elijah.

“There are days when they make me so proud,” Jesus said. “But they fall too easily asleep.”

Moses grinned. “Their spirits are willing, but their bodies are weak. They sound like my people. When we left Egypt, they were ready; when the Manna came, they were ready; when the sea parted, they were ready, but give them a few days after a miracle …”

“You’re worried they’ll forget,” Elijah said. “You’re worried they won’t carry on, after …”

Jesus nodded. “I am so afraid,” he said, softly. “And none of them – none of them – understand.”

The three men sat in silence. It was Elijah who spoke first.

“He understands.” Jesus nodded.

“We’ve all been afraid,” Moses added. “It seems like that’s part of the bargain. You do his will, you preach his message, you get scared. It’s going to happen soon, isn’t it?”

“I think so,” Jesus said. “I can feel it getting closer every day, like some kind of storm that’s just over the hills.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I’ve prayed for him to take it away.”

“Of course you have!” cried Moses, laughing. It was this cry that woke the apostles. “You think the two of us haven’t asked for someone else to take our places?”

Elijah agreed. “You know, it was only a few hours ago I was talking to him, beginning him to kill me, so I wouldn’t have to go on doing his work.”

Moses looked confused for a moment, then his eyes opened wider. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize – he talks of you as his son, but you’re a man as well, aren’t you? You, you feel it all, just as we do.”

Just then, Peter and the other apostles arrived. “Jesus!” Peter cried out, “It’s a good thing we’re here. You have to let us make tents for the three of you. For Moses and Elijah and …”

He trailed off as a thick mist began to gather around them. Before any of them knew it, a cloud had formed around them, so thick that Jesus could not see any of the others. And then the Voice: “This is my Son, my Chosen – listen to him!” At that, Jesus wept – tears of joy, tears of fear, tears of exhaustion. And when the cloud was gone, so were Moses and Elijah, and he was left with Peter, James and John. The three of them came to him immediately, but they didn’t say anything.

Jesus understood. He didn’t know what to say either.

* * *

I think the story of Jesus’ transfiguration is confusing. As far as miracles go, this one is pretty far out. Jesus glowing like a night-light. Moses and Elijah, transported through time and space. And the story raises so many questions. Were Moses and Elijah sent there during their lifetimes, like I assumed in the story I just told? Or was it more of a sent-down-to-Earth, “Touched by an Angel” moment? And why was it those two, Moses and Elijah? Why not King David, or Isaiah, or Jeremiah?

The commentators have come up with an easy answer for that last question. They say that Moses represents the law and Elijah represents the prophecy, and so they both testify to Jesus’ mission on Earth. That answer is actually kind of satisfying, but my imagination – which is wildly overactive – is leery of simple answers.
People who preach on this story – and there are a lot – seem to have an imperative to talk about what we’ve come to call a “mountaintop” experience.

Sometimes it’s a conference event where you’re surrounded by Christians and you feel like you never want to leave the safety of that environment. Maybe it’s the doctor’s office where they told you the good news, or the vacation you took with your family where everything turned out right. For me – and I hope this isn’t too sacrilegious – it’s a hot shower on a cold morning. Once I get under the water and stop shivering, I don’t ever want to come out. I should apologize for making you think of me in the shower, but at any rate, a “mountaintop” experience is one that is so good, so powerful, that people don’t want to come down. And this story is the one that gives us that expression.

But the lesson to be learned is, you have to come down. Peter didn’t know what he was saying when he suggested they pitch tents and hang out for a while; the knowledge and experience you gain at a Christian conference is of no use if you stay at the convention center for the rest of your life; and I won’t do anyone any good if I don’t get out of the shower in the morning. So there you have it. A simple, easy message for you to go home and contemplate. It’s just that easy.

And if you believe that, I’ve got some real estate I’d like you to take a look at.

Listen to me: the Bible is never that easy. Jesus is never that easy. And I don’t think the people of this congregation are used to hearing easy messages from this pulpit.

It’s crazy to try and boil this story down to something you can put on a bumper sticker or a keychain. It’s foolishness to think all those questions you have about what really happened on that mountain don’t matter. And let me tell you something else – I think that interpretation of the “mountaintop experience” is just plain wrong.

Because Jesus’ mountaintop experience wasn’t something profoundly positive that sent him back down with a song in his heart and a spring in his step. God said, “This is my Son, my Chosen – listen to him!” Sure he did, but here’s what that really meant: Jesus was going to be betrayed, he was going to be tortured and he was going to die. He was going to die to pay the price for sins he’d never committed – yours and mine. And he knew it. Call me crazy, but there’s no way I’d want to stay on top of that mountain.

“Your present plans are going to succeed.” My fortune cookie comforted me, because my plans were to come here today, talk to you, have lunch with my family, and then go back to my dorm to put off writing my thesis for the rest of the afternoon. But for Jesus, those words would have a very different meaning.

Most Christians believe Jesus was both fully divine and fully human, and that’s a hard thing to explain. It’s right up there with the Trinity in terms of confusing doctrine. It’s also dangerous, because we run the risk of forgetting one or the other. In the story of his transfiguration, it seems like we’re too quick to put a halo around Jesus’ head and assume he was really pleased to get the thumbs-up from God. One of the books I found most helpful in preparing this sermon suggested we come to the mountain of transfiguration and stay there for a while – witness the awe, witness the power, witness the mystery.

It is only natural to want to find a meaning, a take-home message in the stories of the Bible. As humans, we seem to want to make sure everything makes sense. We want to understand – and that’s a good thing. It is what’s led us to scientific discoveries and medical miracles. It is our safe and expected position.

But every once in a while, we need to take time just to listen. Just to hear the stories and try to experience them. We need to make them our own stories. God calls each of us to listen to the stories of the Bible, and to listen in new ways. Because the text doesn’t stay put forever. Just because you’ve found a meaning, that doesn’t mean it’s the only meaning you’ll ever find.

The Bible is a living, breathing book – praise God. It’s one that each of us interprets and reinterprets each time we open it. It needs you and me to keep opening it, to keep reading it, to keep searching for meaning and – sometimes – to just sit in awe of it. God has given each of us a unique gift: we have an individual perspective with which to interpret and a beautiful mind that doesn’t settle for easy answers. Promise me you’ll never settle for easy answers. Because God doesn’t either. Amen.

Want to comment on this Essays? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Essays and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...