Holy mystery
Holy mystery enters into human experience in our Gospel reading for today, Holy mystery that both awes and frightens. It frightens Peter, James and John, and quite possibly many of us readers too. It is the story of the transfiguration of Jesus. A transfiguration is a change in form or appearance. On a mountaintop, a thin place we would say today, at night, when Jesus is praying, Peter, James and John see Jesus transfigured. The story has the form of an historical event, but its content is otherworldly. It is hard to accept it as history. And yet all three Synoptic Gospels include it, and with only very minor variations. Obviously it is an important story.
Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory.
Taking pictures with our smart phones on this particular mountaintop at this particular time. . . I don’t think that would help us understand what is being revealed. We have to let go of any need for empirical or scientific verification. Familiar images from Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament, are being called upon in this passage of Scripture to express the almost inexpressible. It is the kind of writing that encourages us to sit with it awhile, in silence, more than once.
Luke writes that just eight days previously Jesus had told all of his disciples that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, be killed, and on the third day be raised. He had also spoken of the tremendous cost that would be involved in following him. Now Jesus is being affirmed. He is receiving heaven’s confirmation for who he is and that the way of the cross is God’s will for him. Jesus must have felt tremendously supported, affirmed, with this experience of transfiguration, however it actually occurred. God was responding to Jesus’ faithfulness.
An epiphany in the strongest sense of the word happens, a manifestation of God’s presence. No wonder we hear this story at the conclusion of the Season of Epiphany every year. So many signs communicate God’s presence, God acting. There’s the extraordinary light from God’s glory shining off the face and clothes of Jesus, just like God’s glory had caused Moses’ face to shine when he was in God’s presence. We heard about that in our reading from Exodus for today.
The figure of Moses embodying the Hebrew Law and the figure of Elijah embodying the Hebrew Prophets each affirm Jesus as the fulfillment of both. The passage of the cloud that overwhelms the disciples is just like the cloud that had led the Israelites out of Egypt. And there is the voice of God coming out of the cloud: “This is my Son, my chosen; listen to him.” This same voice had spoken to Jesus earlier, after he was baptized: “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
Before going on I want to interject a quick word about today’s Epistle reading. Paul uses the image of the veil from today’s Exodus passage differently from how it was used by the writer of Exodus. Paul suggests that the veil continues to cover Israel’s mind, that Israel cannot see the glory of God as followers of Christ can see the glory of God in Jesus . . . . and even have that glory reflected back into their lives. I think history has proved Paul mistaken on this point. We have Jewish brothers and sisters who walk very close to God. One need only to spend a few moments listening to Rabbi Harry or Rabbi Lynn right here in Victoria to know this is true.
When you and I talk about our own “mountaintop experiences,” they are more likely to be, if actually on a mountaintop, idyllic, peaceful, with perhaps a glowing sunrise or sunset, maybe a soft breeze, certainly nothing standing in the way of a bright future. This experience of Jesus, Peter, James and John on a mountain to pray is not that kind of mountaintop experience. There is the affirming presence of God giving strength and resolve to Jesus, but there is also the subject of coming death. Moses and Elijah speak to Jesus about his “departure,” which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. If Jesus is to hold true to what he believes is his God given purpose, he is to be crucified by the Romans.
This year, year C in our three-year lectionary, we hear the story according to the Gospel of Luke. Luke is the only Gospel that makes mention of what the figures of Moses and Elijah are actually talking about with Jesus in this Transfiguration scene. Luke is not letting us, the readers, be like the disciples in not thinking about what lies ahead in Jerusalem. Peter wants to busy himself with making shelters for Moses, Elijah and Jesus. We the readers have the advantage of being told that Peter just doesn’t ‘get it.’ He will, though, after the resurrection. And as our Bishop reminded us three weeks ago, Peter will also die of crucifixion.
I think of churchgoers I have known through the years that would “check out” about now, and then come back Easter Sunday. They really liked the Christmas story. They admired the teachings of Jesus, even admirably lived by them as much as they could, including sharing their wealth. But Jesus’ gory death and all that leads up to it? They were just fine without the season of Lent, certainly without Holy Week.
It is not hard to sympathize with that response to the Christian tradition. I can remember how in my early twenties, even after being baptized and confirmed at age 15, I began to think, “Why worship a god who suffers and dies? If I am going to worship a god, I want that god to be all knowing, all powerful. Otherwise, what’s the point? How naïve I was. In my mid thirties when I was experiencing deep suffering, our God - who suffers, dies, and rises again - offered me new life.
The experiences of death and resurrection are a part of all of our lives and not necessarily just once. As we grow, mature, come up against challenges, make ourselves vulnerable in a love relationship, experience failures and recoveries in various shapes and forms, we are dying to what was in order to become, to realize what can be. The recent production “Behind the Moon” at the Belfry Theatre illustrated this repeated truth so well. Maybe some of you saw the play. Those of us willing to accompany Jesus to the cross are being honest with ourselves, and others, about what it means to be human. Actually, when you think about it, all that is is constantly changing, dying and resurrecting to a newness, but I’m getting off track.
Our Gospel reading for today gives us a glimpse of the resurrected Jesus. It is a good news story -- eventually even for those terrified disciples– good news to carry us as we journey through Lent, as we journey through our lives. Amen.