Sprinkled across the Gospels are scenes that all play out with similar plots.
In the presence of his closest friends and followers – the Twelve Apostles, Jesus does something extraordinary. He cures the sick; he cleanses the unclean; he raises the dead. What for Jesus is the stuff of daily ministry understandably leaves the Apostles flat-footed, slack-jawed, and dumbfounded. And with the enthusiasm of a puppy playing with a sock, each of the Twelve wants to shout the good news from the nearest mountaintop!
But no. These many vignettes always end with Jesus issuing the Apostles a stern warning: Don’t tell anyone, don’t say anything; not a word about what you’ve just seen – at least not yet. For the time of my full revelation is still to come.
Now comes this morning’s Scripture lesson, set – of all places – on a mountaintop, where Jesus is part and parcel of a moment both breathtaking and miraculous. And just as elsewhere in the Gospels, the passage abruptly ends with Jesus commanding three of the A-list Apostles that mum’s the word: “Tell no one about the [incredible vision you’ve just seen] until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (Matthew 17:9, Mark 9:9-10)
Well, God has raised the Son of Man from the dead! He is risen! He is risen indeed!
So now seems as good a time as any to share the epic tale of the Apostles’s mountaintop experience. Peter, James, and John are about to step from the frying pan and into the fire of revelations that declare Jesus the Christ, Jesus the Savior; Jesus as “Emmanuel,” God With Us. As Jesus inexplicably changes before their very eyes, Peter, James, and John catch a dazzling glimpse of the Lord’s white-hot glory!
For reasons unknown, Jesus extends these three in particular an incredible gift: The blessing of affirmation, a sign and seal to help these anxious men wrap their heads around the explanation for the many miracles they’ve beheld: Jesus really is the long-promised Messiah!
The Lord’s gift also provides spiritual nourishment to digest and come to terms with what lies ahead. Such richness of faith is what’ll carry Peter, James, and John through the witness of Jesus’s suffering on the Cross and the sorrow of his death. It is the glory of God’s very self, alive in Christ, that will sustain Jesus through his crucifixion. And the glory of that same amazing grace is here to see us through it all, too!
Listen to the Word that God has spoken. Listen even if you don’t understand, as Jesus speaks to his inner circle in the days leading up to a Friday we now call “Good” –
“Truly I tell you, some of you standing here will not taste death before you see the Son of Man coming in the kingdom of God.”
About a week later, Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John – by themselves, apart from the other apostles, and he went high upon the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, Jesus was transfigured. The appearance of his face changed – shining like the sun. And his clothes became dazzling white – such as no one on earth could bleach them. Suddenly the three apostles saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to Jesus. They, too, appeared in glory and were speaking of the Lord’s departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Now, sleep weighed heavy upon Peter and his companions, but since they remained awake, they saw God’s glory in Jesus, as well as in Moses and Elijah who were standing with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, not knowing what else to say, “Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us make three dwellings – one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them. Overcome by fear, Peter, James, and John dropped to the ground as the cloud enveloped them. From the cloud then came a voice: “This is my Son, my Chosen, in whom I am well pleased. Listen to him!”
When the voice fell silent, Jesus moved to touch Peter, James, and John, saying, “Rise and be not afraid.” When they looked up, they saw no one but Jesus alone. They kept silent and, in those days, told no one any of the things they had seen. For as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus mandated, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (Selected verses of Mark 9:1-9, Matthew 16:28-17:9, Luke 9:27-36, various and personal translations)
Upon it all, the theologian Frederick Buechner waxes poetic:
“[In the Transfiguration] it was the holiness of [Jesus] shining through his humanness, his face so afire with it that they were almost blinded.
“Even with us something like that happens once in a while,” Mr. Buechner continues. “The face of a man walking his child in the park, of a woman picking peas in the garden, of sometimes even the unlikeliest person listening to a concert, say, or standing barefoot in the sand watching the waves roll in, or just having a beer at a Saturday baseball game in July.
Concludes Mr. Buechner, “Every once and so often, something so touching, so incandescent, so alive transfigures the human face that it’s almost beyond bearing.”
Another’s critique is fair: Mr. Buechner’s rendering of the actual Transfiguration of Jesus is too mundane, a bit too much like what can and does happen to anyone on most any-given day, at work or school, or just walking down Main Street to the café or barber shop.
Perhaps. But so also, Mr. Buechner just might be onto something.
Even on all those kinds of days – when Jesus and the disciples are by no means having mountaintop experiences, when dazzling garments whiter than Mr. Clean’s are nowhere to be seen –
Even then, when Jesus smiles kindly at lepers, winces when a so-called sinner is shunned, or appears so attractive after telling a hurting prostitute to go in peace, because her sins are forgiven –
Even within the daily ebbs and flows of life’s tender moments – the monotony that often marks the day; discomforts of all kinds; the summer’s heat, the winter’s cold; even within disappointments, tensions, setbacks, and woes, those who abide in Christ sense the seeing of God’s glory in the divine transfigurement of ordinary people in ordinary time.
Strong flashes of heaven’s dazzling glory!
The one, true God vividly and surprisingly on display in God’s One and Only Son, full of grace and truth, beaming from the faces of friend, neighbor, and stranger, by the very same Holy Spirit whose presence further illuminates your face and mine.
An ancient mystic of the Church shares an absolutely lovely explanation for such moments: Finding the holy in the ordinary, she writes. “God amid the pots and pans.” The Lord tidying things up and sweeping up messes. Jesus himself in the gentle-yet-urgent whispers of the Holy Spirit.
So, seek Jesus not in far-off places, for he is close by. Your tractor cab or workbench, office, kitchen, or classroom – these are the places where you offer radiant love. Because the radiating love of Jesus is right there with you.
Maybe so also comes a not-so-gentle reminder that experiences of God’s very presence take very long times to process, let alone understand, and become suitable for sharing with the community of faith in ways and means both faithful and fruitful. They aren’t called “mountaintop experiences” for nothing.
Let me suggest that our way forward in Christ Jesus rises from the art of ballet.
That’s right! Ballet! Ever watch a ballet dancer – or a figure skater – spin herself around? And wonder just how it is that she – or he – is able to twirl like a whirling dervish and manage not to hurl?
One of the reasons why ballerinas and skaters don’t get dizzy when they spin round and round like a record lies in the technique called “spotting.” To begin their spins, dancers and skaters pick a stationary spot in their environment and focus their attention on that. When they move their body during a turn, they also move their head to visually locate that spot again and again. It is thought that this gives them senses of visual stability while the rest of the world swirls around them.
All well and good on stage or ice rink, but the average person who isn’t so physically agile is still likely to get dizzy, even while trying to master the technique of “spotting.” Another force must be in play here, and those who study such things have a convincing theory.
Studies suggest that the brains of ballerinas actually might have adapted themselves to disconnect from the sensation of spinning due to the many years those brains spend practicing spins with their owners. This rewiring of the brain to ignore the dizzy signal, paired with the spotting technique, is what allows them to pirouette perfectly without, well, puking.
Here in the place, I know by witness and experience that lots of folks among us cling to Jesus as their “spot,” their center point of focus, even as a dizzying array of brokenness, war, and rumors of war scrambles minds and wearies hearts. Nicely done, friends! Everyone hankers a coherent center of safe harbor amid storms personal and corporate, foreign and domestic, and Jesus is the One who must be the brightest blip at the center of life’s navigational radar.
Yet our heads still spin, and nausea ever plagues. Perhaps we, too, thus need Part Two: the re-wiring of our minds. A gleaming transformation, of sorts. A spectacular resurrection, for sure. Maybe even, dare I say, a transfiguration?! I think that’s what the apostle Paul has in mind when he writes to the Romans –
Dear brothers and sisters,
I plead with you to give your bodies to God, because of everything God has done for you. [Forget not his death and resurrection!] Let your bodies [separately and collectively] be holy and living sacrifices – the kinds of sacrifice that the Lord deems acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him.
Copy not the behaviors and customs of this world, but let God transfigure you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will come to see and understand God’s will for you, which is forever and ever good, and pleasing, and perfect.
Because of the privilege and authority God has given me, I, Paul, warn each of you: Don’t think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your self-evaluations, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given us. (Personal translation of Romans 12:1-3)
Be transfigured – resurrected, refreshed, brought back to life – by the renewing of your minds!
For indeed we are an Easter people, which ensures that the sweet taste of new life arrives fresh daily, with every dawn, no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve said or done, no matter what you’ve left unsaid and undone.
Ancient words, ever true.
Amen, and amen!
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message on Easter Sunday, March 31, 2024, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Teresa of Avila, Roy Enzler, Chelsey Harmon, Scott Hoezee, Beth McCaw, and Cheryl G. Murphy inform the message. Also Frederick Buechner, Whistling in the Dark, 1988, p. 108.