Last Epiphany 6
February 14, 2010
Exodus 34:29-35
Psalm 99
2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2
Luke 9:28-36
You can always tell that it’s the last Sunday of Epiphany. We hear the story of Jesus’ transfiguration. And there is a good reason for that. Transfiguration prepares us for the season of Lent. Today we see Jesus as we have never seen him before, and what we see is a vision of his coming resurrection to God. We need to see Jesus in this light, and we need to hang on to this vision of Jesus’ glorification, because we are about to enter into the darkest period of his life—and ours. Not just because our calendar tells us so. But because Jesus has gone to that mountain top today to prepare for his departure from us. Like Moses he is about to make his own exodus, so-to-speak, from his life in ministry to his death in Jerusalem; and like Elijah God will lift him to heaven from the bonds of this earth.
Jesus’ experience on this mountain top is his moment of truth. It is a moment of truth for Peter, James and John. And it is our moment of truth, as well. The truth revealed to us in that dazzling light is this: Jesus is God’s Son. He is the Messiah. He is our Savior. And the truth revealed in that dark cloud that envelops Jesus’ disciples is this: God is with us. God is present in that cloud, guiding and directing their life and ours in this dark world to the light of the world to come. And how awesome these truths are for us.
How awesome is it just to be on a real mountain top, no less to have the kind of mountain top experience Peter, James and John have that day. They are not only in the presence of Moses and Elijah; they are in the presence of God, as only God will reveal himself—through his Son. Moses’ and Elijah’s presence with Jesus that day would have been enough to convince anybody that Jesus is God’s Son, and God is with us. But in case it isn’t, the white light of God’s countenance shines on Jesus and it changes his entire appearance. But in case that doesn’t convince us, God comes to Jesus’ disciples in a cloud and speaks directly to them. “This is my Son; my Chosen. Listen to him!” And what Peter, James and John experience in these events is so awesome they become speechless. In fact, they do not say a word to anyone about what they experienced on that mountaintop, not until God raises Jesus to heaven as he stands in the midst of them. After all, who would have believed what Peter, James and John experienced on that mountaintop? Only those who can claim a similar experience; an experience so awesome, so fantastical, and yet so real it has to be true.
Now, the fact is, we often hear people speak of their “mountain top” experiences in this world. And while those events don’t approach the magnitude of what Peter, James and John experienced that day, anyone who has been to a mountain top can identify to varying degrees with the awe and the wonder Jesus disciples experienced that day. Especially when it leaves us lacking for adequate words to describe it.
Just ask a child to describe her first day at Disney World, or a teenager who has her first experience of falling in love, or a mother who has just delivered her baby, or a professional who has just received the highest accolade for his work. There are no words which can adequately convey our experience of a mountain top event. We find ourselves breathless, fumbling for words until we finally admit that there are no words to describe it. Ask a mountain climber who makes it to the top. Or a sky diver who makes it to the bottom. Or talk to a football team or their fans right after they win a Super Bowl. They whoop and holler. They speak in monosyllables and exclamation points. Because words do not come to people who are overwhelmed by a mountain top experience. That’s why we have poets, and painters, and dancers, and musicians, and theater and movies. These artists and art forms take us to our mountain tops in ways we are not able to convey by our own feeble attempts to tell about them.
There is a major difference, of course, in the kind and degree of the experience Peter, James and John—and Jesus--have that day. But all mountain top experiences, it seems to me, have at least two things in common. Mountain top experiences do not last. And mountain top experiences do change us. They don’t last because no one can stay on a mountain top. Our bodies and minds, our emotions and our psyche can only experience short periods of heightened overload. Eventually we must descend to the valleys and plains of our real life in our real world, to a place of rest and normalcy. But we are not the same person. We come to realize that our mountain top experience cause us to see ourselves and our world differently. At the very least a new reality or a deeper truth changes what we know, how we think, the way we act, and what we believe. At the very most a mountain top experience transforms our life.
A transformed life is what comes to an insecure Moses and a sin-filled Elijah when they encountered God on their mountain tops. These very human people came to believe in themselves and in God’s extraordinary purposes for their lives, and they committed their lives to serving that purpose. Jesus’ own experience of transfiguration comes during a mountain top moment of deep prayer. The difference is Jesus is not transformed. His life doesn’t need to be transformed; he is already God. Rather, Jesus’ aspect is transfigured, completely changed to reveal more completely who he is. God affirms Jesus as his Son and the event foreshadows his death and resurrection.
Stories of Moses and Elijah in Hebrew scripture show us how the most dramatic mountain top experiences not only change the way we see ourselves and our world; they transform our life, and they transform our world. Peter, James and John become part of a movement to establish Jesus’ church in our world, and people continue to become transformed by her presence in their life.
Stories of transformation abound in our own time. We have all seen how the life of an alcoholic or a drug addict becomes transformed, ironically, by the mountain top experience they call “hitting bottom.” When addicts are serious about recovery, other recovering addicts help them discover a higher power in the God they seek, and a greater purpose for the life they live, recovery often becomes a means by which an addict’s life is not only changed, it becomes transformed. Stories of transformed lives abound from those who find their way out of poverty and ignorance, crime and imprisonment, personal demons and interpersonal conflict to a mountaintop of hope and promise. People who discover a new vision for their life, new tools for living it and an intense desire for making it happen. We hear about the special schools for troubled children who are led to that mountaintop by visionary teachers. They not only graduate high school; they go on to college and into careers which often serve the needs of others. We hear about people like Precious, and NFL player, Michael Ohr who find their mountain top experience in godly encounters with people like us who help them overcome huge obstacles to living the life God gave them to live. Many of us have our personal stories of transformation and the mountain top moment that generated it. One thing we can be sure of is that mountain top stories of transforming are dramatic, and they have a dramatic impact on others.
One of my favorite stories of mountain top experiences which result in transformation is the story of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. (By now you know the regard I have for him by the many times I have made reference to him in my sermons.) I watched a documentary about his life this past week, a tribute to Black History month. I am well-acquainted with Dr. King’s story, but this documentary highlighted writings and conversations which most people have not read or heard. Knowing that I would be writing this sermon on Jesus’ mountain top experience, I was quite taken by a comment Dr. King wrote in his journal shortly after receiving the Nobel Prize for Peace. “Oh, how I love being on this mountain top,” wrote Dr. King. “But I must go back into the valley.” Dr. King not only realized he could not stay on that mountain, he knew that more than anything, God wanted him back in this valley to continue his work for civil rights.
It was the mountain top which opened doctor King’s eyes to the abuses of power and privilege of race and gender, but it was in the valley where his work made a difference for good in a world which was becoming transformed by his leadership. Dr. King knew you can’t change anything from a mountain top. He knew he had to put the trophy and go back into the valley. He needed to get moving on his next agenda for Civil Rights—his war on poverty. Unfortunately, Dr. King died before he had a chance to fight that war, but not before he made the speech of his life—a speech which recognized the value of his mountain top experience for all people. “I have been to the mountain top,” said Dr. King. “I have seen the other side.” And I might not get there with you,” but he promised us that one day, we would get to the other side of inequality and poverty, and other social issues which keep God’s people from becoming the people he created us to be and living the life he intended for us to live. Dr. King manifested God’s vision of the world as it might be, and he gave us the desire to keep climbing that mountain.
This is the same kind of vision God gave to Peter, James and John on the mountain top that day. God’s purpose for them became manifest in the figures of Moses and Elijah. God’s vision for them became manifest in Jesus’ transfiguration. God’s call to them became manifest by his own voice. This is the same vision and voice God manifests to us each time we come to worship. We hear it in our scriptures, in our prayers, in our hymns and in this sacrament. Worship is our mountain top experience. This is where God challenges us to change and grow and become transformed by the Spirit who will guide us back down this mountain into that world to be the people God is forming us to be and to do the work God gives us to do, so that we might move closer to the God’s vision for his kingdom on this earth.
As we enter this season of Lent we need to remember that God is present in the clouds we pass through as we journey through the valleys and shadows of this world. We need to hear his voice. We need to listen to his Son. We need to remember that the light of transfiguration never goes out, not in the darkest hours of Jesus’ life, and not in ours. In fact, God would have us remember that as people of faith we are people of the Light. And it is by that light that we can lead others to that ultimate mountain top experience which continues to sustain our life in this world. The light of Easter. The experience of redemption. The promise of salvation.