Text: Matthew 17:1-9 Revised Standard Version (RSV)
The Transfiguration
17 And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain apart. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his garments became white as light. 3 And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Eli′jah, talking with him. 4 And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is well that we are here; if you wish, I will make three booths here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Eli′jah.” 5 He was still speaking, when lo, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son,[a] with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” 6 When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces, and were filled with awe. 7 But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” 8 And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.
9 And as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus commanded them, “Tell no one the vision, until the Son of man is raised from the dead.”
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.
One of the most significant things about this passage is what is not in it. To really get a sense of what’s happening here, we need to go back into the end of the previous chapter, chapter 16, where, in verse 21, we read “…Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” By telling them this, Jesus has now revealed to his followers the full extent of his mission, and it has met with a predictable response: Peter actually “rebukes” him, as Matthew tells us – kind of a mild way to describe what quite possibly was really going on. Peter was known to be a hothead, so it’s not hard to imagine that the discussion was much more heated than the word “rebuke” would indicate. This is worth noting, because it shows what the mood of the disciples might really have been. They were no doubt in equal measure angered, baffled, and terrified – mostly terrified – at the news that at the end of the road there wasn’t going to be the glory they had expected, but rather a cross.
We have gotten used to treating the disciples as secondary characters who are in the Gospels just to move the story along; as clueless hicks; as social climbers jockeying with each other to see who would wind up being first in the new world order Jesus was going to set up; as cowards who failed Jesus when he needed them. I remember hearing or reading something back in seminary to the effect that the Evangelist Mark, in particular, was the “evangelist who couldn’t stand the disciples.” In Mark, definitely, and to a lesser extent in Matthew and Luke, because they draw from Mark, the disciples are pretty much always depicted as the Keystone Kops of Palestine, guys who just “don’t get it.” And there’s some truth to this view of the disciples.
But there’s also another side to the story, one which I think is much closer to the mark. The Gospel record, when taken in its entirety, actually proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that these disciples of Jesus, though they were flawed, frail, and imperfect – just like people in every time and in every place, including you and me – nonetheless were men who had made every imaginable sacrifice to follow Jesus – they’d given up their livelihoods, their security, even their families to throw in with this Nazarene rabbi.
What would make otherwise normal men do such a thing? Certainly it had a lot to do with Jesus himself and the message he brought to them; but we have all seen how even the most convincing argument sometimes fails to move people to do what even they know is right. Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote that “Most men live lives of quiet desperation” – and many of them stay that way; it takes a lot for someone to take the steps necessary to change his or her condition. A life that’s miserable, but predictable, is for many preferable to one that’s potentially better but less foreseeable.
But Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew, and Bartholomew, and all the rest had done exactly that. They had dropped their nets and left their homes. So there was something inside of them that responded to the call of Jesus and made following him, not just a good idea, but the only possible thing they could do. Jesus called; their faith woke up and answered. That is what gave Peter the insight to be able to say “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
So you can imagine how they must have felt when it finally became clear that the end game was death for Jesus on a cross. Now, Jesus did speak the words “and on the third day be raised,” but it seems pretty clear, certainly when you read about Peter’s reaction, that they, in their panic, at best only half-heard them.
That’s the context of today’s passage. And so, Jesus, being the kind friend he was, decides to let them in on the secret. He takes Peter, James, and John up that mountain, and proceeds to blow their minds.
We aren’t told just when Jesus gathered the three of them to climb that high mountain, but I would guess it was early in the morning, before the heat of the day made any exertion unbearable. So let’s say that’s what happened, and we get an image of four men, toiling up a steep mountainside in the dark. But, as they climb, the sun starts to climb up, and by the time they reach the summit, they can turn and see for miles in all directions. It must have been a glorious sight!
But nothing in their experience, nothing in their wildest imaginings, could have prepared them for what they saw next. As “The Message” puts it: “His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. Sunlight poured from his face. His clothes were filled with light.”
Spectacular! But there was more! “Then they realized that Moses and Elijah were also there in deep conversation with him.” Truly supernatural in every sense of the word!
Let’s pause here for a moment. Why were Moses and Elijah there? They were two of the towering figures of Jewish history. Moses was the courageous leader who had faced down Pharaoh and led God’s people through the wilderness and brought them to the Promised Land. Above all, Moses was the Giver of the Law. Every facet of Jewish life was influenced by what Moses had done. Elijah was one of the greatest prophets. Among other things, Elijah’s greatest public miracle was the showdown on Mount Carmel between him, as the representative of the One True God, and the 450 prophets of Ba’al and the 400 prophets of Asherah. Elijah challenged these prophets to call upon their gods to send down fire from heaven to consume an animal sacrifice. And they all tried, with might and main, to do just that – but nothing happened. Then, at the end of the day, Elijah called upon God to send down fire to swallow up the sacrifice prepared for him – and God did. Everything was consumed, even the stones.
And now there’s Jesus, standing between them and conferring. There was no mistaking what this meant: That their friend, their teacher, was exactly what Peter said he was – the very Son of God. And, just to underline it, the Voice of God then thundered down from the heavens and said: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”
As you can imagine, these three simple fishermen were struck dumb with amazement! What could they say? What is there to say when faced with such an event? How can we give words to something that is so outside of our experience that there are no words to describe it?
Here’s what Peter did – he tried to prolong the experience, to make it last. He cries out: “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters – one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” In other words – let’s stay here, where it’s wonderful, where we don’t have to deal with the problems of the world. Let’s stay here, where we’re close to God. Let’s stay here, where we can bask in God’s radiance.
That, to me, is a totally natural and understandable reaction. We come together here, week after week, to feel God’s closeness, to hear God’s voice, to bring before God our prayers and supplications. We want that intimacy, that sense of being directly and continually in God’s presence.
I know I’ve mentioned this before, but it seems fitting to repeat that one of my favorite childhood memories is from back when we lived in Oshkosh. The house we lived in then had a huge south-facing picture window. In the early afternoon, the sun would shine in those windows and create big squares of light on the floor. I liked to curl up in one of those squares and bask in the warmth. I didn’t need a blanket; I just was as warm and cozy as you could get. I’d take naps lying there on the floor in that warm pool of sunlight. I felt warm and safe and secure.
That may be similar to what Peter and James and John were feeling that day. They were surrounded by the glory of God; everything else – all their toils and worldly cares – faded into insignificance. There are probably as many ideas of what heaven is as there are people. Many of these concepts would be familiar to us, and many others would probably shock us. But I’d be willing to bet that every idea of what heaven is would have one thing in common – heaven is a place of peace, of safety, and of love. And here they are, Peter, James, and John, face to face with heaven – and they hadn’t even had to die first to get there! No wonder Peter makes that hopeful suggestion – “If you wish, I’ll make three booths here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah!” In other words, let’s stay here! Let’s not go back down the mountain. Let’s not return to that world down below that’s messy and dangerous and scary!
When Peter remembers what Jesus had just told them about the death that’s soon to come, it’s no wonder that he blurts out, “Say, I’ve got an idea! Maybe we should just stay up here and hang around with good ol’ Moses and good ol’ Elijah! No need to go back! Whaddaya say, guys?” He knows what’s about to happen, and he wants to be as far from that as he can get.
But no. Staying there was not an option for the disciples. Had they done that, everything that Jesus had done to that point would have been for nothing. He had a job to do. They had a job to do. That job was nothing less than saving the world.
We all have had at least one “mountaintop experience.” And we love them. But they eventually pass away. We can’t stay on the mountaintop, either. Even if we could, before long they would stop being amazing. Human life is mostly lived in the valleys. It’s only in the context of normal life – life in those valleys, where things can be dark, confusing, and scary, but where we also find moments of great fulfillment and times of great humanity – that the value of the mountaintop experience is truly to be found. It’s been said of people who spend their lives seeking these special moments that “they’re so heavenly-minded that they’re of no earthly good.”
Mountaintops and valleys. Light and dark. Highs and lows. The cycles of human existence.
That job the disciples had is also our job. It’s in the valleys of life where our mission is, where the action is, where we’re supposed to – and do – live. It’s our job to be there for others who hurt and are afraid. It’s our job to be the one holding the candle to shine the way so others no longer stumble in the dark. We’re the one giving a Kleenex to a grieving mother or father, or widow or widower. We’re the one putting an arm around someone so they can walk when they’re too tired to take another step. That’s what we’re supposed to do. That’s who we’re supposed to be. That’s who we are. We can’t do that if we’re living in a tent on top of a mountain.
And, no, it isn’t easy. Sometimes doing that important job is something we do even when we’re full of doubts and misgivings, struggling with indecision, quaking with fear inside. But we do it, anyway. We rise to the occasion. We show courage. As Captain Eddie Rickenbacker, America’s first fighter ace, famously said, “Courage is doing what you are afraid to do. There can be no courage unless you are scared.”
There are five little words toward the end of today’s passage which we could easily overlook. Those words are the words of Jesus saying, “Rise, and have no fear.” Note that this is a command – and with this command, Jesus literally pulls these disciples out of their old lives of fear and failure into a new life of courage, purpose, and dedication.
And the same is true for us. You see, when we step into the breach to be those people Jesus calls us to be, we aren’t alone. We’re never alone. Jesus is with us. So have no fear!
Today let’s celebrate those mountaintop experiences we have had, but also rededicate ourselves to the task at hand: To be faithful followers and co-workers with Christ!
In the Name of God, the Holy and Undivided Trinity. Amen.