Mark 9:2-9 Transfiguration 2018
My husband and I recently traveled to the
Holy Land. We saw these amazing holy places related to the life of Jesus. For Christians, the two most sacred of these
sites are undoubtedly the Church of the Nativity, in Old Town Bethlehem, which
marks the spot where Jesus was born, and, in the Christian quarter of Old City
Jerusalem, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. This is the church built over the stones
of Golgotha, where Jesus was crucified; through a hole in the floor, you can
even reach down and touch the stone. At a lower level in the complex that makes
up this site, there is a cave believed to be the empty tomb where Jesus was laid
following his crucifixion, and from which he was raised in the resurrection on
Easter morning.
The two churches that stand at these sites were
erected over 15oo years and 1000 years ago respectively; each has experienced
cycles of construction, conquest, destruction, reconstruction and holy
pilgrimage. Today they are overseen and administered jointly by a constellation
of ancient church bodies, among them several Orthodox expressions of Christ’s
church.
If you’ve ever been to an Orthodox church,
you know they are very ornate by our standards. It is typical to see a great
deal of polished brass and silver, gilded icons and gold mosaics at any
Orthodox place of worship, especially around and upon the altar and the chancel
area. While we might consider this ostentatious, to the Orthodox, the finest textiles,
silver and gold vessels, icons and adornments symbolize the glory of God, and
give praise and adoration to God Most High.
As you might imagine, there, in the Holy
Land, when it comes to these holiest of Christian sites, these sites connected
with the pivotal moments of the life of Jesus, the adoration and therefore the amount
of ornamentation placed by the Orthodox churches is incredible, with massive
displays of precious metals and stones surrounding the areas devoted to
Christ’s birth, death, and resurrection.
With lighting from modern-day fixtures
shining down on them, the light reflecting off the shiny brass, gold and silver
surrounding the places of holy attention is overwhelmingly brilliant - the
effect quite stunning, and sometimes, at certain angles, quite blinding.
As I read the texts for today, especially the
description of the sheer brilliance of Jesus’ clothing, I thought about the
places we saw. I understood, for the first time, I think, what inspires such
showy extravagance. It’s a lot like what God did for Jesus that day.
As Jesus was changed before Peter, James and
John, high upon the mountaintop, the place traditionally considered the closest
place to heaven the text says, “his clothes became dazzling white, such as no
one on earth could bleach them.”
Throughout Scripture mountains are places of
divine revelation, and what happened on that mountaintop was God’s doing. God,
who sent his Son to earth to save us from our sin, now, before these trusted
disciples puts on a display the meaning of which there can be no question – the
display reveals the divine glory which God himself ascribes to Jesus. In what
is what is known as the Transfiguration of Jesus, God causes Jesus, sent to be
the light of the world, to shine like the sun.
The sites throughout the Holy Land are
preserved for people like my husband and me and the millions who have preceded
us and the many who will follow us throughout the centuries to see and experience
these places of holy significance. That’s what we, as finite human beings do.
We attempt to capture or encapsulate special events, places and things that
hold meaning for us, far various reasons.
We want to hold on to the special moments and
places by capturing them, memorializing them, sharing them with people, and
building monuments and keepsakes to our experience of them.
I wonder if that is what Peter was trying to
do in our gospel text this morning. Perhaps he, too, was trying to hold on to,
capture, encapsulate, or memorialize the moment and the experience. Maybe he
even thought if he built dwellings there on that mountain it would preserve the
moment and keep Moses and Elijah there too, and then he could bring people back
here and share this experience with them, too. Because really, if we can’t share in that experience,
what does this Transfiguration mean for us?
Today, each
of our lessons reveals divine light. Together, they build to the climax of
the gospel, where the glory and favor of
God is revealed in the person of Jesus Christ. The voice from the cloud
comes – God’s own voice, declaring, “This is my Son, the Beloved,” and then, a command,
“listen to him!”
As the clothes fade back to normal and the
two heroes of the faith disappear, Jesus and his companions start back down the
mountain. That’s the remarkable thing. In some ways, perhaps, the most remarkable thing – apart from the Transfiguration
itself – that Jesus, moments after being revealed in divine glory upon the
mountaintop chooses to return, to
dwell among humans, knowing what will come of his earthly enterprise.
Because Jesus does know what is coming. After
all, in the verses just before these, Jesus has just predicted his own passion and
death, and delivered a teaching on the suffering path of true discipleship.
So, we need to ask ourselves, what does this
Transfiguration Sunday have to do with us today?
Episcopal priest, Wil Gafney writes, “The worlds in which these texts are set
include brutal wars, occupation, colonization, slavery, financial exploitation,
and interpersonal violence. And yet God chooses to dwell among her people,
accompanying them through the perils of a very broken world. These texts testify to God’s presence in
our world as well; we are every
bit as broken and God is every bit as
present. In a world deluged by floods, shaken by architectural and economic
collapses, and bruised by violence between persons and nations, the enduring
presence and undimmed glory of God is a beacon of hope and comfort.”
God’s final word in this text is a word
of command – listen to him. That’s God’s
final word to us on this Transfiguration Sunday. Listen to Jesus.
To listen to Jesus is to hear his word,
to follow his call to serve as his disciples. To listen to Jesus involves picking
up our crosses to follow wherever he leads, knowing that the road may not be easy,
but that he does not leave us alone.
To listen to Jesus is to know that in
him, God pours out God’s heart and love into the world to transform you and me
and all who believe in Jesus so that we
can follow him, for the life of the world. To listen to Jesus means to be transformed by his presence in our
lives –transformed into disciples who live our lives like his, caring about what he cares about, and
persisting against the injustices and sin Jesus himself persisted in speaking
out and acting against. Listening to Jesus involves shaping our lives into cruciform witness to his glory and his love.
God, in
Jesus, sees all people as worthwhile, and worthy of love and dignity and
respect. Through Jesus, God intends
to use the gifts God has given us to care for each other and the world.
My friends, the reality is that brutal
wars, occupation, colonization, slavery, financial exploitation, and
interpersonal violence still exist in our world. We are both part of the
brokenness, and part of the healing. Acknowledging our need for a savior, God
still transforms us into servants of the world, sent to listen to Jesus by
reflecting the light of his love in our lives.
While the kingdom of God has broken
into the world in Jesus, the fulfillment of the kingdom will not come until
Jesus comes again in all his glory.
And yet, even now, God chooses to dwell
among her people, not in tents built upon a mountaintop, but here among us,
accompanying us through the perils of a very broken world.
What does Transfiguration Sunday have
to do with us today?
Transfiguration Sunday leads us toward
the season of Lent. It leaves us with a transforming command – listen to Jesus,
and do as he does.
As
Jesus and the disciples will leave the mountain and its glory behind and
descend into the brokenness of the world to live out their callings, the church
heeds the call to Lenten disciplines amid the troubles of the world.
At the end of today’s service we “leave
our alleluias” behind, and we pledge to focus not on the dazzle and shine of
the light of Christ, but on what it means that he not only descended from
heaven to live among us, but that he came
down from that mountain that he might complete his journey to the cross.
Transfiguration Sunday serves not only as a
bridge between Epiphany and Lent, but as a reminder that in Jesus, God not only
bridges the place between heaven and earth but eradicates it, filling us with
possibility, love, and the hope of the ages.
Amen.
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