Sermon — February 11, 2024
Pia Bertelli
So, Jesus takes Peter and James and John, and leads them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. We know from Luke’s version of the Transfiguration story he took them up there to pray in peace away from the crowds. I imagine it might have been like heading out for a family trip where the parents know where the family is going, but the children haven’t been told all the details yet. Everyone gets packed into the car and you’re no sooner out of the driveway, or in the case of Jesus and his disciples, headed up the path, when someone says, “How far are we going?” “Why are you taking us up here Jesus? Did you bring any snacks? Peter would’ve been complaining the loudest no doubt.
We don’t know if Jesus had any idea of what was about to happen up on the mountain – the vision, the revelation, the inevitable change that would occur in them. Imagine with me it’s you and your friends or family – you’ve climbed Mt Monadnock or maybe closer the Great Blue Hill. You get to the top. It’s a clear day so, as expected, you can see for miles. In one direction you see the iconic Boston Skyline. From the Great Blue Hill, you see Houghton’s Pond and Ponkapoag Pond. From Mt Monadnock you may see the Green Mountains in Vermont or the White Mountains in New Hampshire. It’s inspiring. You might not be compelled to get down on your knees, (you are after all an Episcopalian and don’t want to create a spectacle), but at least you bow your head and say a prayer of thanks to God for this glorious day, your health, and being with the people you love. You share a snack and descend the mountain, changed perhaps. You have a new awareness, a deeper appreciation.
The mountain top where Jesus and the disciples were must have been a thin place though – a place where earth and heaven are close. They arrive at the top and as they are praying, Jesus is transfigured before them and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. Thankfully, Clorox has not co-opted this image for a commercial. Elijah and Moses appear, and he was talking to them. Certainly, at this point the three disciples must’ve been startled. I imagine Peter wide-eyed, fretfully running to and fro, wringing his hands, as he tells Jesus that it is good for them to be there and suggests they make a dwelling for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. They have had this close encounter with God and Peter wants to stay up on the mountain and savor this numinous experience.
Peter is speechless afterwards, for they were terrified. And, if this experience of dazzling light hasn’t affected them, a cloud comes over them and from the cloud a voice saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Got your attention now? If you’re a Trekkie, the line “Resistance is futile” comes to mind.
While I haven’t heard God speak to me from a cloud, (I’m not sure I’d be here today to tell you about it if I had), I did have an experience once while taking communion. There were several hundred people to communicate so the ushers ensured the procession up to the altar was orderly and efficient. I knelt, took the bread and the cup, and then became rooted to the kneeler. I envisioned a javelin of light entering my head and traveling through my body pinning me before the altar. People around me left and another set came. I knew I should move on, but just couldn’t. Thankfully no one tried to shuffle me along and eventually I arose and made my way back to my pew. I couldn’t tell you in what liturgical season that happened or exactly what was happening in my life, but I can tell you that I never took the eucharist the same again. I was altered. I was more intentional as I prepared to line up, more cognizant of what I was partaking in. I was more open to the holy spirit working in me as I accepted the sacrament. More pensive about what it meant to be fed by the body and blood of the lamb.
Back to our story of the disciples on the mountain top. After seeing AND hearing God, Jesus must get the disciples off that mountain. Jesus knows they cannot build a dwelling and live a top this mountain like an ascetic might. His work to proclaim God’s love is down below with the people. On their way down, he gives them a glimpse of what is to come and what he wants them to do. He orders them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
Elisha also has a dazzling experience. He knows Elijah will soon be taken and he is sticking close to him even though he knows exactly where Elijah is going, and they will be traveling a long distance. His devotion is remarkable and for his constancy he asks for a double-share of Elijah’s spirit. He wants to continue Elijah’s work and is not afraid to ask for what he needs. Elijah tells Elisha if he sees him taken, he may inherit what he asks for, if not, he may not. It is in the hands of God. A chariot of fire and horses of fire come, separates the two and Elijah is taken up to heaven in a whirlwind. Elisha has been steadfast and experienced the vision he needs to be changed. He responds in grief and tears his clothes in two pieces. I’d say come back next week to learn if God has indeed granted him a double-portion of Elijah’s spirit, but it’s not the scripture for next week so I’ll tell you.
Fifty men go out looking for Elijah even though Elisha tells them they won’t find him. It is confirmed, the prophet is gone, and they are left with Elisha who does not disappoint but goes on to heal the bad water and the unproductive fields in Jericho. Next, he devises a battle plan to defeat the Moabites. 2 Kings is full of tales of Elisha successes, including the juicy story of Jezebel. He is clearly given a double-portion of Elijah’s spirit and I commend the book to you.
In both scripture readings, and in Psalm 50, where God has come in a consuming flame and a raging storm, the experience of God has been overwhelming. I cannot imagine praying to experience the countenance of Jesus and being so dazzled, but also do not want to be veiled, as Paul refers to the unbelievers in Corinth. Paul reminds the Corinthians, God said, “Let light shine out of darkness” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
Paul has given the Corinthians, the disciples and us the next set of directions. Rather than telling people about the mystical experience they had up on the mountain, the disciples must show the message of God’s love. Paul tells the Corinthians they must be slaves for Jesus’ sake. He doesn’t tell them to be a slave TO Jesus but for his sake – to give up, to modify, to align oneself with the mission of Jesus to bring in God’s kingdom. We need to allow the divine in us and reflect the light out. To bring in a kingdom here on earth where everyone’s worth is acknowledged and valued. A kingdom where everyone is called to participate.
Transfiguration Sunday, the last day of Epiphany, with scriptures recounting mystical visions and theophany, is the threshold of reading about Jesus’ life and Lent, where we focus on his journey to the cross. Today, as we prepare for Lent, I ask, how will you prepare yourself? What will your Lenten practice be – prayer, meditations, paying attention to your visions and dreams? What will you pray for – a double share of spirit? Visions from God in dazzling white? I think we need only take our cue from the Collect for today and pray to behold by faith the countenance of Jesus so that we might be changed into his likeness and live a life of transforming, redemptive love.
In the name of the one who named the world, Amen.