Mountaintops are glorious places. I remember one summer day climbing to
the summit of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. We set out from Pinkham notch in the sun, climbed to
Tuckerman Ravine, and started up the Lion’s Head Trail. When we reached the Alpine Garden,
clouds came in to shroud the summit, and so we did the final mile going from
cairn to cairn, at last reaching the Summit House, and a chance to rest and put
on dry clothes.
While we were sitting by the windows,
eating our lunch and planning how to keep everyone together for the foggy
descent, a wind came up, and in a space of less than ten minutes the sky
cleared, to reveal a view a hundred miles in all directions.
The truth is, we’d have been happy to
stay there for the rest of the week, but we knew there was more for us to do,
and with our new vision we could see where we’d been, what the trail down was
like, and looking carefully we could just make out the location of the
trailhead that would mark the end of the journey. Though it was still a rugged four-and-a-half miles down, we
were uplifted by the view, and steadied in being able to match landscape with
our maps.
That experience doesn’t come close to
what happened to Peter, James and John when Jesus took them up on a mountain,
but it helps us understand why “mountaintop experiences” are such powerful
images in our lives, and also in the lives of the Israelites.
Remember that Moses goes up on Mount
Sinai to talk with God, and when he comes down, his face shines with such a
glory that the people can’t bear to look directly at him. When the time of his death comes, God
leads him up Mt. Nebo, where he looks over the Jordan, and sees the Promised
Land, confirmed in the assurance that Joshua will lead the people to their new
home.
It is on Mt. Carmel that Elijah confronts
the priests of the fertility gods, known as Baals, and wins a decisive victory
over them. Then, when his life is
in danger, he flees to Mt. Sinai, where he seeks God. There is fire, but that’s not God’s voice; there is wind,
but that’s not God’s voice; there is an earthquake, but God’s voice isn’t there
either. Finally Elijah hears a
“still, small voice,” and in that voice, God calls him to return to his
prophetic vocation. Hold those
mountaintop experiences in mind as we think about the Transfiguration.
First, note where it falls in Luke’s
gospel. It comes at the mid-point,
as the time of the Galilean ministry draws to a close. A few days earlier Jesus asks the disciples
who the crowds think he is, and who they think he is. Peter speaks the words, “You are the Christ,” the confession
upon which Jesus declares he will build his church. With the knowledge that his circle of disciples know who he
is, Jesus also knows it is time to begin the final journey to Jerusalem.
But first, a time to strengthen these
three. Peter, James and John
accompany Jesus to a mountaintop, and while they are there a stunning
experience unfolds. What we call
“The Transfiguration” served these disciples in several different
dimensions...and “dimensions” is the right word.
Some scholars dismiss it as an Easter
experience read backwards into the preEaster ministry of Jesus. A big problem with that theory is that
in none of the Easter stories do we see Jesus illuminated and shining, and in
none of them do we see him in conversation with spiritual giants like Moses and
Elijah. If it is a misplaced
resurrection story it is utterly unlike any of the others. A second problem with that theory is
that Jesus is discussing his coming death with Moses and Elijah, something he
would not have been doing after the resurrection. In short, it just doesn’t fit as a misplaced resurrection
story, so it must be something else
The “Something Else” is a particular
revelation to three key disciples.
Peter, James and John are given a glimpse of two characters who are
central to Israel’s past, and both are associated with mountaintops. Moses is not only the great lawgiver, but
also the leader of the Exodus, and it is the word “Exodus” that is used to
describe Jesus’ coming death.
Elijah, the greatest of the prophets, knows a thing or two about
mountaintops himself. So here we
have the two greatest figures in the Israelites’ past in conversation with the
newly discerned Messiah, discussing the strange and fearsome journey he is
about to undertake.
Peter, beside himself with this
unexpected occurrence, wants to erect tents, and stay on the mountaintop
forever, but that’s not why the vision was granted. The Voice, speaking in the cloud states the real purpose: “This
is my beloved son. Listen to him.” Peter, James and John, will become major
figures in the early church. This
moment is to show where their journey with Jesus is going to lead, as Jesus
moves forward to meet death and resurrection. They are being confirmed in their conviction that Jesus is
Messiah, strengthened for the very difficult days just ahead, and reassured
that all will come to a glorious end.
In the details of the Transfiguration, we
learn something of how God chooses to redeem the human race. Jesus is to follow the path of healing
the world’s wounds through love that suffers on behalf of others – that’s what
he’s discussing with Moses and Elijah.
But isn’t just plain love enough?
Why does he have to get mixed up in all this suffering? A good question - one that Peter has
already asked. The answer is that
if the Messiah comes and just loves people, or if he leads a successful
military campaign against the Romans, he won’t do anything any other good
teacher or smart revolutionary couldn’t do. At best he’ll have a successful career and then die. They may talk about Him for years
after, but in the end they'll also despair, for there is none like Him. “If only we had Him back,” they’d say, “there
might be some hope.”
Jesus, by contrast, is preparing Peter,
James and John to understand what real love is like – he models it, indeed
embodies it, and after the travails and struggles that lead to Golgotha, in the
upside-down new world of resurrection, they recall this time on the mountain,
and in the memory find the key to understanding what it all means.
When it’s time to leave the mountaintop,
they find themselves plunged into the events on the road to Jerusalem. All four gospels recount an immediate
immersion in the tasks of ministry.
A man comes seeking healing for his possessed son, and from that point
on the pace picks up. The time on
the mountain was to fortify for the journey, and the journey is over rough and
difficult roads.
What, then, does this experience hold for
us? Why did all four gospel
writers consider it important to include?
You and I can make do without having such experiences ourselves, but
perhaps we need Peter, James and John to have had this one for us.
It was a moment of grace: an unearned
gift given for a purpose. Grace is
never deserved, and certainly cannot be commanded. God does not owe us such moments, but if they come, they
come as a strengthening for whatever days and challenges lie ahead. Whether or not we personally have these
experiences, the record of them in scripture, and in the lives of others, can point
us to the deeper truths they embody.
First, that living as God calls us to live is a struggle with real
stakes - the struggles of our lives are important. Second, that God will be with us in the struggle, providing
what we need to carry it through.
Third, the essence of the struggle is for us to learn how to love as
Jesus loved, and for that love to have a real impact in the world.
Last, though the road is long and rough,
the end is not in doubt, and when we finally see it from the vantage point of
journey's end, we will be astonished to see that we were never alone, and that
in the critical moments especially, we were surrounded and supported by a host
of companions, the full light and brilliance of whom we could not fully bear if
we were to face them unblinking in the present
Howard MacMullen
© February 2013
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