Six days later, Jesus took with him
Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by
themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes
became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And
there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with
Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, Rabbi, it is good for us to be
here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one
for Elijah.
He did not know what to say, for they were
terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there
came a voice, This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!
Suddenly
when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only
Jesus. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them to
tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had
risen from the dead.
Mountain top experiences are a part of our life of faith. They're
the times we feel taken up, part of something bigger than ourselves, a
little closer to God and a little closer to God's glory. Of all the
things I've been a part of since I started doing ministry ten years
ago, the one that's most consistently been described as this kind of
a mountaintop experience is a house building mission to Mexico. Nine
times, Rebecca and I have been a part of a team that's taken a group
of middle or high school students down to Tijuana to build simple
houses for families that doesn't have one. There's nothing special
about the houses we built. They're small, the outside dimensions are
12 feet by 24 feet. There are three windows, two rooms and one door.
We weren't able to put any kind of plumbing in so there was no
running water and no indoor toilets. Out of the 40 or so houses I've
been a part of building, we were only able to get electricity to five
of them … There was also nothing special about the place we stayed.
Most of us slept outside on the ground at the orphanage, except when
it was raining and we tried to cram into any dry spot we could find.
For showers, every other day we would get about a gallon- maybe as
much as a gallon and a half of water in a bucket, we'd stand on a
long sloped driveway and wash the grime off as well as we could … We
usually went during spring break and everyone knows that spring break
trips are more appealing if there's a beach involved, so we dubbed a
spot at the orphanage as the beach
because It was the one place on
the grounds that if you stood on a chair, and see the Pacific Ocean
way off in the distance … The mission itself had very little glitz and
glamour. But over the years, when I've asked students about a high
point in their faith or the time when they felt closest to God,
invariably if they'd been on the Mexico mission, that's what they'd
talk about.
A lot of things contributed to the Mexico mountain top experience: the
accomplishment of building the house, seeing and interacting with
people living in poverty, working alongside the family who would
receive the house as a gift, getting away to a different context with
a single-minded focus on serving. All the while, the students would
live in an encouraging community and somehow, many of them encountered
God in a new way. And you know the most common thing I heard about
the Mexico mission … I wish I could go back. I wish it didn't have
to end.
That's the way it seems to be with mountain top experiences. I wish
it didn't have to end. Our New Testament lesson today is where the
phrase mountain top experience comes from, the disciples went with
Jesus to the top of the mountain and there they encountered God in a
new way in the person of Jesus Christ. Jesus was transfigured … the
Greek word is where we get our word metamorphosis … he was
transformed. The disciples were able to see God's glory radiating
out from Jesus. He spoke with Elijah and Moses, the two great figures
in Jewish history: one representing the Law the other representing the
prophets. The text tells us the disciples didn't know what to say …
But Peter summed it up … It's good to be here … Let us make dwellings …
Sounds an awful lot like Let's stick around … I don't want this to
end.
In the church we celebrate the Transfiguration every year. I don't know that I remember any particular service or any particular sermon on the transfiguration, but the most common sermon on this passage goes something like this: Peter didn't understand what was going on and he was frightened. (Both of those seem legitimate to me.) The sermon continues he wanted to build the dwellings to gain some measure of control in the situation … and then the pastor goes on to reprimand Peter and the congregation for trying to box God in and contain the Holy. I understand that message because I think we often do try to box in the Holy … But as I read this passage over and over this week I just kept thinking that's not quite right, that's not the whole story.
The transfiguration happens right in the middle of the gospel of Mark. As people who read the beginning of the gospel, or heard it read, we don't get very much new information. We were already told way back in the first chapter that Jesus is God's son. We have been able to look at the miracles, the healings, and the exorcisms as evidence of that declaration from the baptism story. But for the disciples, the people who were in the gospel, the transfiguration is very new info. They weren't there to hear that Jesus was the son of God. They knew he was a healer because they had seen him heal. They knew he was a teacher because they had heard him teach. They knew he cast out unclean spirits because they had seen him do it. But here on the mountaintop is the first time in Mark's gospel that the disciples see the nature of Jesus, the first time they get to see the fullness of who Jesus is. It's the first time his identity as the Son of God was revealed to them. They saw God in an entirely new way. And it scared them.
So Peter wanted to build something and maybe Peter was right. What was going on was bigger than him; that was bigger than all of them. He may not have understood it, but he understood that it had significance. Maybe his idea to build dwellings wasn't about making a box to understand and contain the holy as much as it was trying to honor and respect the moment … to create something to remember, to build a sort of monument.
If there's anywhere in our country that knows about monuments, it's here in the greater DC area. A couple of weeks ago, I walked the monuments at the national mall for the first time in my conscious memory. As I walked into the circle of the WW-II memorial, I was struck- remembering how many people fought and died to win the war that would end all wars. In the midst of our present global economic crisis, the FDR memorial spoke to me about perseverance through the toughest of times. As I walked into Lincoln's chamber and Jefferson' s circle I was filled with awe. The statues commemorating the people were larger than life, but more than that, the idea that all people are created equal, the idea that drove their actions and words was larger than life. The events didn't happen here, but because these were the buildings and the spaces that commemorated the events, I was taken back. I've read history books, but none of them yet have conveyed the same kind of history to me that walking through the monuments did. I internalized it differently. I couldn't help but feel like I was surrounded and drawn into something bigger than myself.
Of course Peter didn't know what to say, of course he was terrified. But his instincts were right if what he wanted to do was honor and respect the moment, to build a monument so that they could look back and remember this mountain top experience.
But Peter didn't get to build his monument, at least not as he
thought. Before he got a chance to put his plan into action, a voice
spoke from the clouds. This is my son, the beloved; listen to him.
And suddenly, when the disciples looked around it was only Jesus
again: no Moses, no Elijah, no shining clothes. The moment had
passed. If there's one thing that I've learned from my own
mountaintop experiences it is that they must come to an end. Sooner
or later we come down off the metaphorical mountain to rejoin life on
the level ground. But we still remember because the same God that
shines through Jesus Christ on the mountain top in the transfiguration
is the same God who draws close to the students over and over again on
their mountain top experience of the Mexico mission, and It's the
same God who draws close to us in our own mountain top experiences too …
But the transfiguration marks a shift in the focus of the gospel.
Before this point, the gospel has taken place in Galilee and was
primarily about the healing and teachings of Jesus, but as they walk
down the mountain, as they walk back down to level ground, where most
of life is lived, the scene shifts and the focus of the gospel becomes
the trek to Jerusalem and Jesus' journey to the cross. He told the
disciples, don't tell anyone what you saw till I've been raised
from the dead
… because the story to be told isn't only
about the glory that shines through Jesus on the mountain top. It
also has to be about the service that Jesus undertakes on level ground
and even the suffering he endures in the valley because those are
every bit as much of who Jesus is. That's the fullness of God
incarnate and it is good news: even though the glory may be harder to
see, that same God who is with us on the mountain top is right beside
us on the level ground and even when we walk in the valley our God is
there too.
So remember, remember those mountain top experiences. But don't rush to find the mortar and stones, because a monument to commemorate the glory of the living god can't be made out of stones. The students who went on the Mexico mission may look at the houses they built as monuments, but a monument to commemorate the glory of the living God can't be made out of wood. In fact the only monument Peter ever did build was the life he led. And that's exactly how it should be. The lives we lead, the relationships we build, the people we serve and the people we love … It's who we are and what we do in the every day walk on the level ground. That's what makes us part of something bigger than ourselves, that's what connects us to the glory of the mountaintop, that's what allows the glory to shine through us. Our lives become the medium of construction. Now with that in mind, go build a monument. Amen
The foregoing sermon was given on Feb. 22, 2009 by Rev. Dan Holland at the United Parish of Bowie.
© 2009 Daniel Holland
