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Transfiguration Sunday year 1
Feb. 19, 2023
A number of years ago, I took a hike on New Year’s Day. It was one of those typical Vancouver winter days; drizzling, cold, gray and rather depressing. It was not a good day for the Polar Bear swim, and staying home just seemed to intensify the darkness of the afternoon. So, a friend and I threw boots, sweaters, hats, mitts, jackets, wool socks and snack food into the car and drove to the parking area on Mt. Seymour.
It was chilly. It was wet. Trudging along the muddy trail, weighed down by layers of damp clothing, we thought that maybe we should have stayed home. At one point, the fog was so heavy that we almost gave up. We could see nothing beyond a few feet, and only knew that we were on the right path because we could feel it going uphill.
Suddenly, there was a change in the atmosphere. The fog got lighter, and as we walked we got warmer. Then came a moment I will never forget.
We walked out of the cloud, onto a flat area, and into a glorious light. Down below us, the entire lower mainland was hidden by the mist. There was nothing there, except the top of the cloud and the top of the mountain.
Off came the hats, the mitts, the nylon windbreakers, the wool sweaters. We ended up in tee shirts for the rest of the walk. It would have been nice, to build a shelter and stay there, if not forever, at least until spring had a good hold on the city. But we both had to work the next day.
Yet, coming down through the cloud and into the early darkness of a winter afternoon, I was reassured, that the sun was there, waiting to break through at just the right moment. I always think of that experience when the readings for Transfiguration come around.
The mountaintop experience. We hear it every year, on the last Sunday of Epiphany, before Lent begins.
This year we are treated to Matthew’s version, and in the companion passage from Exodus, Moses sets out with Joshua, to climb the mountain and receive the tablets of the Law. He gives specific instructions to the elders, telling them to wait at the bottom of the mountain, and others will be able to lead them. It’s a simple experience: A cloud settles on Mt. Sinai, and God calls to Moses out of that cloud. It’s a bit confusing, because the passage is put together from fragments of several writers, but the message is that God’s presence was an appearance of fiery glory, and that Moses was there for forty days.
In the Gospel reading, we have many echoes of the familiar story of Moses, going up Mt. Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments. The disciples go up on the mountain, suddenly Jesus face shines – he is transfigured – and Moses and Elijah appear to talk with him - symbols of the Law and the Prophetic call, showing that Jesus is included in these holy traditions, and has a new dimension to add to God’s interaction with humanity.
Peter is so overcome, that he wants to build shelters and remain there. If he were in our time, he would have said “Let’s take a selfie.” But a cloud envelops the scene, and the voice of God says “This is my son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased, listen to him.” The disciples cower in fear, but Jesus reassures them, and when they look up again, Jesus is there alone.
We glimpse this scene as though looking through a keyhole: should we really be seeing this? Is the full glory of Christ, the revelation of divine mystery, appropriate for mortals like us? As we hear this reading, we are transformed: time and space stand still for an instant; they have no meaning. Everything is enclosed in a single moment that leaves us breathless. The radiant garments, the appearance of revered people from the past, the voice of God out of the cloud. That is the Transfiguration, a moment outside of ordinary time.
And then it is time for Peter and James and John, and us, to let our breath out and go down the mountain, to return to the worldly pursuits for another year. Don’t worry, it will happen again.
There are many ways to deal with these stories, and one thing to examine is the images which combine past, present and future.
First of all the readings show a respect for tradition: for the Laws of our ancestors in faith, for the prophetic message, for characters in Biblical stories, for ancient ways of being. It is important that we respect our traditions, to be nurtured by the past and grounded in our history. We need to know where we come from. We need to repeat certain actions that link us to those who have gone before. We keep, in our worship, prayers and many customs that are ancient, not because they are sacred in themselves, but because they help us to remember that we do not live only in this instant, but are connected to the experiences of the people of God though the centuries.
Secondly, the readings give us a glimpse into the future: the promise of everlasting life, a taste of glory. They fill us with hope in a time of despair. They remind us that God waits for us and holds out salvation as our final condition. They may even reassure us that we will be reunited with those we love. You can find all kinds of wonderful comforts in these scenes.
Thirdly, the passages remind us that we are still mortal, human, and responsible for the world in which we live. It was a nice holiday while it lasted, but we have to come down from the mountain to the mess at the bottom. We can’t hide in the clouds forever.
Think of Moses, up on that mountain, coming down hauling the tablets of the law that would form the basis for whole new people! He is tired, that stuff is heavy. He gets to his tent, puts down his burdens, calling “Hi honey, I’m home” but there is no answer. His family is out, busy worshipping a golden calf with the rest of the community. Well, what did he expect; after forty days and nights? They had to do something!, He’s up there having a tea party with God, and they’re wondering where their next meal in coming from. Moses has a lot of cleaning up to do!
Jesus comes to the bottom and has to continue his ministry: healing, teaching, dealing with those who speak out against him, offering faith stories in the form of parables, supporting and encouraging clueless followers, and all the while preparing himself for the moment when his trial and death become reality.
This is life, folks! And these stories remind us that even through the most difficult times, when we could not see a way ahead, when all our plans were shattered, when we felt alone, discouraged, angry, confused and maybe when even prayer was not sufficient to bring us solace, God was still there, hidden from our sight, a tiny whisper in the dark, calling us back to faith, to listen to the message of the Gospel, to treasure the commandments that keep us on the straight path, and the prophetic voices that call us to justice and compassion.
Life has changed, in the past three years. And we are reminded that there is much work to do, to repair, reorganize and re-evaluate what life is about.
We have not lost life, we have been given the task of setting it right, of finding new and exciting ways to be engaged in our world.
A traditional way to look at the story of the transfiguration is to say that it’s here to show us the glory of Jesus, his power and relationship to God, but perhaps the moment was also there for the disciples to see themselves and their ministry, in the light of the law and the prophetic tradition. And that helps us to ask ourselves: How have I seen the glory of God in these past months? How have I tried to hide from responsibility, to stay under the covers and not get up?
We can’t hide from the voice of God calling us to listen, because our faces shine, our lives matter to God and to the rest of the world. The light sparkles in our hearts.
What clouds are blurring your inner vision in these moments? What’s stopping you from being more fully the person you know God would like you to be? What things have you noticed that were hidden in your heart?, what things have you learned about yourself and others , about the world and about your faith? There are so many revelations in these two passages that give us sustenance as we prepare for this new way of being in the world.
God is very much with us, even at the bottom of the mountain. What I think the disciples carried down with them were God’s words of blessing: “This is my son, the Beloved. With him I am well pleased. Listen to him!” Listen, in your heart for the call of Christ. Listen, for you too, are God’s beloved children.
Let us continue in our journey, rejoicing in the past and planning for the future. As we prepare for the season of Lent, may the blessings of this story bring you renewed strength in the weeks to come, and renewed faith in the power of God and the presence of Christ in your lives.