|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Exodus 34:29–35 |
Psalm 99 |
2 Corinthians 3:12–4:2 |
Luke 9:28–36 |
For the writers of the Gospels, the spiritual experience of Peter, James, and John with Jesus on the mountaintop, commonly called the transfiguration, serves as the dividing line between Jesus’ ministry around Galilee and journey to the inevitable final judgment in Jerusalem. Jesus used the few days away from the routine of healing, teaching and answering questions, to prepare the disciples and himself for the very trying days ahead. Hence the account of the transfiguration is always the Gospel read the Sunday before Lent. It marks the an dividing point in the church year between the celebration of Christmas and Epiphany, the promising beginning of his ministry and the recruiting of the initial disciples and ministry around the Sea of Galilee and the growing opposition to his mission and the passage into the season of Lent, a more somber and reflective season.
The transfiguration not only prepares us for the passion, equally importantly, it gives us a glimpse far into the future, its plants the seeds of hope, so we can also anticipate Easter. In one sense it reminds me of the seed and flower catalogues that arrive at this time. The weather has turned colder, the snow is plying up, our cars are covered with grime, but there are these beautiful full color catalogs of luscious fat red tomatoes, gigantic green beans, huge flowers and bright blazing bushes. Take heart, the catalogs say. Begin to prepare now, it is not in vain, for spring and the harvest will come.
In contrast to the account of the transfiguration, next Sunday’s Gospel on the first Sunday of Lent, is the story of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness and the tempter or devil bringing Jesus up another high mountain to show him all the kingdoms of the world. Jesus refused to take the “world view” of the devil’s offer and instead prepared for the preaching of the good news of God, a vision that offered another reality, God’s vision of reality.
There are both similarities and contrasts between the view on the mountain of transfiguration and the mountain of temptation. Both offer a high, exalted view, both offer more than what one can gain from the ground. In contrast however the atmosphere on the mountain of temptation can be deceptively clear. There are no clouds. The tempter offered Jesus some pretty straightforward ways to gain security, power, and wealth. If you have these things, everything appears to be within your reach and the future will seem to be in the palm of your hand. You set the agenda, and you write history to conform to your image. It is so easy to succumb to such temptation and so difficult to imagine that the view shimmering from the heights of power and wealth is often a mirage.
Things on the mount of transfiguration are much more ambiguous. The Gospels report that Moses and Elijah were conversing with Jesus, It is oftentimes suggested that Moses and Elijah represent the Law and the Prophets that Jesus will fulfill in his journey to the cross. Yet Moses is also the figure of past deliverance, the one who contended with Pharaoh and lead Israel out of slavery through the desert, to the Promised Land, and Elijah is the symbol of future deliverance, the forerunner of the messiah announcing the end of oppression and misery. Unlike the offer of an easy but deceptive deliverance on the mount of temptation, while Moses and Elijah symbolize a genuine deliverance, for them it was a long, hard deliverance and one which was born full of struggle.
The contrast between the mount of temptation and the mount of transfiguration remind us that real mountaintop experiences often have more clouds and fog about them than easy choices and broad views. When I was a summer camp counselor in Maine, one of the highlights of the year was to hike Mount Washington, the highest peak in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. From Mount Washington you could get a spectacular view of four states, and on an exceptional day, even see the ocean. The camp director would carefully examine the weather map to pick a propitious day. We would begin our climb in the early in the morning looking up at the summit, basking in the morning sun. As morning wore on, the clouds would begin to envelop the headwall. To encourage the hikers, I would assure them that the view of the ocean was a never to be forgotten experience, and share with them the time I not only saw the ocean, but also few great blue whales spouting off shore. (Yes, children were so gullible years ago.) Reality would sink in, when around noon we would begin the assent of the headwall and come to the large sign in bold yellow letters that warned: “Mt. Washington has the worst weather in the world. Turn back if there is a sign of storm. Many have died on this mountain not heeding this warning” Soon we were literally walking through clouds. We would finally get to the summit, and usually you could indeed see glimpses of at least three states, and about once every five years even the ocean. But the views you got were more like large patches when the clouds and mist broke, first in this direction, then in another direction, but you rarely got a sustained and clear 360-degree panorama. Nonetheless, the more you looked through the clouds, the easier it was to see, and the more sensational and mysterious the openings became.
Mountain top experiences do change us. They may influence us more later than sooner. They often are subtle, and like the disciples learned, their revelation tends to be deep and not immediately fathomed without reflection. While genuine mountains have a lot of clouds. They are still exhilarating experiences.
You may recall the movie entitled The Poseidon Adventure. The movie is about passengers who are sailing on a luxury cruise ship when a huge wave, flips the ship over bottom up. So the floors become the ceilings and the ceilings become the floors, and all usual landmarks are all mixed up. The passengers who seek to escape, have to go up through the bottom of the ship, rather than out to the decks. The title song of the movie is “There’s got to be a morning after”. That’s how many a Lenten journey is; all the furniture is jumbled in a mess, and all previous fixed landmarks are topsy-turvy, and deliverance is an arduous struggle. But there is a morning after, and revelations on mountaintops teach us that it is o.k. to go through clouds, it’s no shame to admit we don’t understand everything about the Christian journey. On the other hand we ought to be a little suspicious of a too easy and clear vision of deliverance. For while one mountaintop offers the promise of challenging transfiguration, the other offers very tempting, but fatal distraction.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
