The last Sunday before the season of Lent begins, many congregations observe the Transfiguration of Our Lord—the mountaintop high for Jesus and three of his disciples—as told in Mark, the 9th chapter.
I love Peter. I love that even when Peter is so terrified he can’t think of anything to say, he still says something. “Rabbi,” Peter says, “It is good for us to be here.”
Peter was right. It was good for Peter, James and John —the executive cabinet of disciples—to be there and witness the exhilarating, terrifying mountaintop events.
The disciples were given a sneak preview of Jesus, the resurrected and ascended Christ.
They saw Moses, Elijah and Jesus standing together. The disciples would know that Moses represented the law, and Elijah represented the prophets. They would come to know that Jesus, the good news, will incorporate and supersede both the law and the prophets. Moses and Elijah depart from the mountain and Jesus remains.
At the time, the disciples couldn’t possibly understand—or stand—the fullness of what they were witnessing. On the mountaintop, it was time to experience. Later, on the way down the mountain, there was time to ponder “What does this mean?”
Peter, James and John needed lots of time to ponder. We can take heart that these beloved disciples were clueless.
Earlier, these three disciples witnessed Jesus raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead. Now they see Jesus transfigured in glory. They hear God proclaim, “This is my son, my beloved, listen to him.”
Even with all that first-hand evidence, heading down the mountain they question what “raising from the dead” could mean. When asked to pray at the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter, James and John can’t keep awake. Instead of building three tents on the mountain, in the courtyard, Peter denies Jesus three times.
Here’s the good news. Even though we are clueless, even though we don’t see Jesus in our midst, even though we are disappointing disciples, we are beloved. It’s not our doing or not doing that matters: it’s God’s doing. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ.
It was good for the disciples to be on the mountain and it was good for Jesus to be there, too. At this point in his ministry, the press of the crowds and the enormity of the need were overwhelming. Jesus knew to withdraw, refresh and renew.
And, even though his disciples weren’t getting it, Jesus understood all too well. Did Jesus wonder if he could stand the fullness of what was ahead of him?
How good it must have been for Jesus to talk with Moses and Elijah. Did Jesus ask questions? Was he given advice?
How good it must have been for Jesus to hear God-the-father call him “my Son, the Beloved.” Jesus heard “my Son, the Beloved” before, right after his baptism in the Jordan and right before he was tempted in the wilderness. This affirmation of his identity fed Jesus in the wilderness and it will sustain him as he journeys to the cross.
It was good for the disciples and Jesus to be on the mountain. It is good for us to be there, too.
In the Bible, mountains, deserts and wells are good places to encounter God. Maybe, like me, you live in a place where mountains, deserts and wells are in short supply. Still, we can put ourselves in places that make it easier to listen to Jesus, to hear God affirm us as beloved, to rest and spiritually renew.
Some will find their mountaintop on a silent retreat. Not me, mind you, but some. Some “experience the desert” by practicing fasting and other spiritual disciplines. Not me, mind you, but some. Others “go to the well” by singing in the choir, attending church gatherings, and talking with mentors and friends. That sounds like me.
Finally, how good it is that Jesus came down the mountain. Jesus comes to us and meets us where we are. With Jesus at our side, like Peter we can say, “How good it is to be here. Right here. Right now.” We can pray, with confidence, as we sing*
How good, Lord, to be here! Yet we may not remain;
but since you bid us leave the mount, come with us to the plain.
—Sue Edison-Swift
2/15/2012
*”How God, Lord, to be Here,” Evangelical Lutheran Worship, text: Joseph A. Robinson, 1858-1933, alt.
