FROM THE MOUNTAINTOP TO THE VALLEY

Sermon preached by the Rev. Michael Anderson Bullock

[Exodus 24:12-18; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew  17:1-9]

As the “Notes on the Liturgy” point out, this Last Sunday in the Season of Epiphany acts like a spiritual threshold.  It calls us to transition from the experience of Christmas (that is, Christmas waited for, Christmas realized, and Christmas manifested) – this day calls us to transition from Christmas to the sobering experience of Lent.  Through the story and profound imagery of what is liturgically referred to as the “Transfiguration of Jesus”, we are invited to join Peter, James, and John not only in beholding this illuminated, mountaintop revelation but also to follow our manifested and confirmed Lord down into the valley. 

The Transfiguration gospel, always read at this liturgical time of the year, contains a deeply important statement that links the Christmas message with the defining reality of Lent and specifically of the Cross.  In fact, the Transfiguration gospel simultaneously makes two statements about the reality of this transition from Christmas to Lent.  One statement has to do with Jesus and what is revealed about him on the mountaintop.  The other pertains to those of us who (like Peter, James, and John) often misunderstand and stumble over what it takes to follow Jesus in the valley below.

In terms of what the Transfiguration reveals about Jesus, the message is that what was begun at Christmas is now ready to be completed.  The reality of “Emmanuel: God with us” is now at the point of fulfillment; or as some waggish preacher might say, “Emmanuel: God with us” is now ready for “prime time”.  And that “prime time” is contained in the context of Lent and particularly in the reality of the Cross.  This transition from Christmas to the Cross marks a profound fulfillment of the life and ministry of Jesus and the impact of “God with us”.

So it is that the Transfiguration gospel reveals Jesus’ purposeful identity, and this is accomplished through a mysterious vision, in which Jesus is seen meeting with Moses and Elijah.  It is a vision that conveys an unspoken message: that Jesus is the embodiment of all the Law (personified by the presence of Moses) and the Prophets (represented by Elijah, who is the harbinger of the Messiah).  And in case the vision remains a bit unfocused, a voice from heaven confirms its visual point: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”  It is in God’s light that we will see the truly illuminating light that began at Christmas and will be clarified on the Cross.  On the Cross, “Emmanuel: God with us” reveals an entirely new and transformational reality: namely, in Christ’s Cross we can see what it truly means that “God so loved the world…”

Yes, clearly, Jesus is the focus of this Transfiguration, but the Lord’s transition has consequences for his followers, as well; and the example of Peter, James, and John offers a good mirror to our own responses in following Jesus on the last leg of his sacred pilgrimage. 

In terms of Peter, James, and John’s place in the Transfiguration scene, I want to identify ourselves in their actions as a way for us to use the approaching Lenten time as fruitfully as possible and as a way for you and me to navigate the transition you and I have begun as priest and people. 

Matthew immediately tells us that the Transfiguration event occurred six days after the famous confession Peter makes at Caesarea Philippi.  In response to Jesus’ riveting question: “Who do you say that I am?”, you will recall the irrepressible Peter blurting out: “You are the Christ of God!”  That, of course, is the correct answer, but this answer is also off the mark because the hard truth is that Peter speaks without understanding the words he utters, which (you will also recall) earns him a stern, verbal dope slap from Jesus.  Like so many of us who know the gospel’s lyrics but won’t dare dance to its tune, Peter reveals himself as a slow and stubborn student!  For in the overwhelming and dazzling light of God’s glory, shining upon Jesus as God’s Son, Peter again blurts out (as Mark and Luke report) a response to holy manifestation, “not knowing what he said”. 

And here I must pause to name what can and does happen when the glory of God is separated from the reality of the Cross.  This is what the Christian Nationalist movement has done.  They emphasize the issue of glory (such as that gained by manly warrior-types) from Christ’s Cross.  Glory without suffering, without the humility of limitation, and thus what it takes to follow Jesus through fear and death to life on God’s terms.  This movement among our nation is a dangerous and heretical distortion of the Christian faith.  More crucially, it is a distortion of who and what God’s Christ is about.  

In place of humble wonderment, Peter impetuously volunteers that he and the Zebedee boys build three structures to commemorate the revelatory event: One for Jesus and one each for Moses and Elijah.  That Matthew omits what the two other gospelers note (namely, that Peter made this statement without knowing what he was saying) is admittedly curious; but perhaps it was enough for Matthew quietly to expose Peter’s deflecting yammering and thus making it clear that the desire to start a religious, mountaintop, theme park (call it “church” if you need to) misses the entire point. 

Yet, in the midst of this embarrassing portrayal, Matthew records what Jesus tellingly does next.  With his three inner-circle disciples in an overwhelmed heap on the ground – like little children who cover their eyes to ignore what they are too afraid to see, Jesus comes to Peter, James, and John and offers his outstretched hand to them to rise up from the ground, and in this tender, reassuring action, tells them: “Get up and do not be afraid.”  “God with us” puts his own skin in the game to raise up his unsure followers – all of his followers – like us. 

Jesus then leads Peter, James, and John back down the mountain toward the valley, where the work of “Emmanuel: God with us” is always to be done.  And as the four men descend the slope, Jesus offers one last comment.  As Matthew tells us, Jesus “ordered them” – not a request but an order --to “tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man [had] been raised from the dead”. 

I wonder what happened next on that mountain trail into the valley.  There are three verses that come next about a quick interchange between Jesus and the Three, but the Transfiguration narrative moves swiftly toward the valley and shifts gears, when a desperate father begs Jesus to heal his tormented son.  Such is the work the valley needs to have done, work that can only come from God-in-Christ and, thereby, through Jesus’ followers.

In the coming months of this relatively new year, you and I both have a lot to do in our valley.  There is a great deal of transition work for us both to do in our lives.  And like Peter, James, and John, we will know the reality of fearing what we do not and cannot know at this time.  What will St. Philip’s do to have new priestly leadership?  And after 48 years of ordained ministry and leadership and just as I was about to get it “right”, what will I do in retirement? 

We are just beginning to confront our respective transitions, descending as it were from the relative heights of ten years together to the valley in which we live.  The uncertainty and the challenges are already daunting, but as we take our respective steps along the trail, my suggestion to us both is to remember Jesus’ words: “do not be afraid.”  And when we inevitably stumble and fall down or when we are tempted by fear to collapse on the ground, we will need to remember not only Jesus’ words not to fear but also to share in extending his uplifting touch, helping each other to rise up and keep walking in the valley toward new life, daring to live in the truth of “Emmanuel: God with us”.  Amen.