SERMON Mountaintop-Plus
The Transfiguration of Our Lord (B)(2009):
2 Kings 2:1-12; Psalm 50;1-6; 2 Corinthians 4:3-6; Mark 9:2-9
There are no mountains in South Dakota. Well, that's not exactly true, the Black Hills are sort of mountains. But they are not the kind of mountains that take days or cable cars to climb.
I did not grow up having the kind of mountain top experience described in almost every sermon that I have ever heard about the transfiguration. The most recent was a sermon in which the preacher described taking a cable car in thick fog to the top of a mountain in the Austrian Alps and suddenly and finally arriving on top of the clouds to bright sunshine. Another preacher a few years ago talked about the view from a mountain he had spent days climbing in the Rockies. If memory serves, the view was of several states.
Bright light and spectacular vistas from dazzling mountain heights somehow equal the transfiguration experience. An enviable experience of the presence of God. I wouldn't know. I have yet to climb a real mountain or take a cable car to the top of one.
I do know, however, that the mountain top experience of Peter, James, and John we just heard described is both baffling and enviable.
It is baffling because as twenty-first century persons we cannot be sure what is being described. In his gospel, Matthew calls what happens a "vision" -- which is certainly one way of understanding it. But Mark seems to treat it as historical happening -- although some commentators think that he may have taken a post-resurrection account and relocated it into Jesus' ministry. Other commentators suggest that it is in fact an apocalyptic vision. Whatever its origin, what we just heard is brimming with allusion and significance. Jesus' clothes become dazzling white "such as no one on earth could bleach them." Already, by the time Mark writes this gospel, white had come to symbolize the robes of martyrs in apocalyptic literature.
Elijah and Moses represent the Prophets and the Law. But they represent more. As we also heard this morning, Elijah does not die but ascends directly to God in a whirlwind. In Jewish tradition, Moses, too, was assumed to have gone directly to God. Both Elijah and Moses have encounters with God on mountains. Elijah on Mount Horeb after a pyrotechnic display (God finally "was in the silence"). Moses receives the torah, the teaching, on Mount Sinai.
Clouds in arid Palestine symbolized life and hope. God is revealed to Moses in a cloud just as God is revealed and Jesus identified to Peter, James, and John in a cloud.
And it is this revelation of God and this identification of Jesus that are envy-producing. What occurs on this mountain is nothing less than a theophany -- or, in the words of one commentator, a "christophany" -- "a manifestation or revelation of who Jesus Christ really is." This is not a casual revelation. It is not the same as arriving on the summit of a mountain and seeing sunshine or five states. What happens to Peter, James, and John is a mountaintop-plus experience.
And there is a reason for that. After Jesus' death and resurrection Peter, James, and John became the leaders of the church. Remember how as Jesus, Peter, James and John come down from the mountain, Jesus specifically instructs them "to tell no one about what they had seen"? This is not a case of reverse psychology. (We always knew, for example, that if we wanted one daughter to know something we didn't want to tell her directly, we would tell our other daughter. Then we would add: "Now don't tell your sister." It worked every time.) But here God specifically directs Peter, James, and John, "Listen to [my son]." They will pay attention to that.
The reason for the directive is because Jesus has to make sure that persons who assume the leadership of the communities of faith after the ascension have a glimpse of the Big Picture before he leaves. He has to make sure that they know that he is from God, before the cross, before his death. And, even though the real significance of what they have seen is lost on them at the moment, those three disciples do get the message.
Which means that mountaintop-plus experiences are not for everyone. They're not intended to be. The other nine disciples are not included in this one. There is no reason why they have to be included.
And there is no reason why they should want to be included. Peter, James, and John were terrified. Mountaintop-plus experiences are not pleasant. I suspect Moses would agree. We know that Elijah would. Mountaintop-plus experiences are driven by necessity. They are not envy-producing.
But the real reason why the other disciples should not be envious is because the abiding experience of God's presence is never greater than when Peter, James, and John suddenly look around and see "no one with them any more but only Jesus." It continues as Jesus comes with them down mountain and as they join the other disciples. As Jesus heals the sick, and as they journey to Jerusalem. It is never greater than on the cross. And in the resurrection.
And it is here. Jesus has come down from the mountain to be with us. And, because he has, the transfiguration that really counts takes place every time we come together to hear the Word, share the sacraments, and act in Jesus' name. It is this transfiguration that we hear Paul describing this morning to the Corinthians. It is the transfiguration where the God who has said
"let light shine out of darkness," . . has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
And because of this transfiguration, we can and do, as Paul also writes to the Corinthians, "act with great boldness" and "commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God."
I have never been to the top of a high mountain. I probably never will know the experience of that sun light or the thrill of seeing many states. In this place, however, in this community, God shines in our hearts. Jesus came down from the mountain, and God's presence and love are real. And that makes all the difference.
Alleluia!
February 22, 2009
Ruth VanDemark, pastor
Wicker Park Lutheran Church
Chicago, Illinois