Rev. Sandy Lacey
021124
In my home, I have a favorite picture – it is an enlarged, framed photograph hanging on the wall. It is a picture of our two sons when they were about 9 and 11 years old. We had gone on a family vacation that year in which we hiked, camped, and white water rafted in the mountains of N. Carolina. This particular photo was taken at the top of a mountain we had just hiked and they were in the victory mode stance – you know the one, arms outstretched and up in the air – victory! We had been the only ones on the trail that morning and had had a grand time together.
It was a time that captured the sublime – beautiful scenery and what had seemed ordinary turned into something extraordinary when we reached the top. It was a mountaintop experience captured in a photograph. I’m glad we have that photo to remind us of the sublime, because that time slice was brief – right before the photograph was mom yelling at the younger one to quit running over to the edge and scaring me . . . and not too long after the photo it was time to come back down the mountain. The trip down not near as fun because we smelled all the signs of a bear (or bears) nearby. We felt the need to make lots of noise, stay together, and hurry back down the long trail.
In today’s Scripture passage, Peter, James, and John have their own mountaintop experience with Jesus.
Peter is a rather impulsive person – he always manages to blurt out whatever comes to his mind. Sometimes, it seems he has difficulty keeping quiet while processing his thoughts. In today’s passage, the writer says he was afraid but it did not stop him from blurting out, “Let’s build three buildings, Jesus – one for you and the other two.” It’s a rather mundane, curious thing to say but I’ve got to wonder if inside, he is raising his hands high in the air in the victory pose and saying, “I knew it! “I called it – just six days ago, remember James and John? He is the Messiah!” According to Mark, it was only just 6 days ago when Jesus asked him and the other disciples who they thought he was. And Peter had the good fortune to blurt out the right answer – “you are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!” Jesus had been pleased but then Jesus went on to say, “Oh and by the way, being the Messiah means that I will struggle, I will suffer, and in fact, I will be put to death.” Peter couldn’t keep his confusion to himself – no, he had to blurt out that surely Jesus was mistaken – “you know that Messiahs do not suffer, Jesus.”
It would have been better for Peter to have kept his mouth shut – instead, he was chastised by Jesus and called Satan, an Adversary – all of this just 6 days ago. And now, today, Peter witnesses something extraordinary – and what does he say? “Let’s make some sort of dwelling here for you, Jesus. This is who you are and this is what you’re about. The extraordinary has come. The extraordinary is here. This is what I have dreamed about, and this is where I want to be. Let’s stay here.” (Figuratively speaking.)
Periodically I teach a six-week class for middle school kids to help them learn and understand some of the basics of their faith. In the Presbyterian Church, we call this a confirmation class. The class is followed by an opportunity for them to make a profession of faith, be baptized if they have not been already, and join the church. We usually begin our study with talking about God. I have them list some things that are big – and I get all kinds of responses – from certain large or tall people . . . to mountains, to the earth, to the vast oceans, even to certain sporting events – you know, like the Super Bowl later today. And then we talk about how God is even bigger, even greater than all those things, and anything else we can imagine. We remember together in Genesis how God created the heavens and the earth and everything in it. We remember that God created each one of us – with all of our unique gifts and abilities. God is truly big and God is truly great.
Most weeks in the Chapel class I do for our preschoolers here, we sing a song together complete with hand motions, “My God is so great, so strong and so mighty; there’s nothing my God cannot do. The mountains are His; the rivers are His; the stars are His handiwork too. My God is so great, so strong and so mighty; there’s nothing my God cannot do.” As adults I think we forget about the vastness of who God is, the truly extraordinary characteristics of God.
Our lives are often so filled with the mundane and ordinary that we forget to notice when the extraordinary breaks through. When is the last time you noticed the extraordinary breaking through? What “mountaintop experiences” have you witnessed lately? When I have asked this question in the past, some have pointed to seeing the grandeur of nature in a new way – beautiful, spectacular visions of the oceans, mountains, really big trees, beautiful fall or spring foliage. The experience was so spectacular that you could not help but see God’s awesome, creative power. Others have pointed to their experience of childbirth and hearing that newborn cry for the first time and seeing them take their first breath. And still others have pointed to moments of clarity when something they’ve known suddenly fits into a larger picture, kind of like a really large aha moment. Others point to worship services that include sublime music that lifts the spirit. Some remember mission projects and events that brought people together and brought a new harmony and vision to a community that was not there before. Over the years, I have heard “mountaintop experiences” described as “thin places”, places where the distance between God and us becomes thin and we catch a glimpse of who God is, of who Jesus is, and who we are in relation to God. These are moments in which the extraordinary breaks through into the mundane. There are many transfiguring moments in life that point to God’s amazing works and God’s amazing grace. And we cannot help but be forever changed by those moments . . .
My friend and colleague in Frankfort, KY – Chuck – reminded me a few years ago, however, that not everyone got to go to the mountain with Jesus. It was just Peter, James, and John who accompanied Jesus and had this wonderful experience that we read about in this passage. The rest of the disciples were down the mountain wrestling with demons and experiencing defeat. We know this because the passage immediately after today’s text tells us that when the three disciples and Jesus came down the mountain after this extraordinary experience, Jesus is confronted with the other disciples’ failure to heal a man’s son who struggled with demons. Apparently, not all of us are fortunate to experience the sublime. Many of us are battling demons day in and day out. Some of us are dealing with devastating news of cancer and some of us are dealing with addictions that have separated us from loved ones and friends. Some of us are worried about the stability of our homes, families, and livelihood in today’s “my way or hit the highway” culture. Many of us are battling demons that threaten to shake our personal identity as well as our community identity. And some of us are wondering if this will be the day that we will finally be known for the content of our character rather than the color of our skin or even our politics. Many of us cannot even see the mountaintop for all the demons we are battling in both our personal lives and in the life of this great nation. But we are not alone – Jesus dwells in these places too. Apparently, Jesus dwells in both places – the tough and gritty places as well as the sublime places.
Many of us, though, are tempted like Peter to want to “hang out” all the time where it is sublime, where life is extraordinary, where all we can see is what makes us personally happy. We, like Peter, would like to strap on our tool belt and start construction immediately on the place that would allow us continual bliss, a clear vision of who Jesus is, no more problems, and constant victory living.
But lest we dwell there or lest we think God only dwells there . . . let us remember that Ash Wednesday is coming and the Season of Lent will be here very soon. As we come down from the awe-inspiring view of the mountain, we will be “setting our faces” toward Jerusalem, toward a terrible cost, toward great suffering, and even toward death, because Peter, this Messiah will suffer.
There are demons to wrestle with . . . because even in the extraordinary event of childbirth – some children die without ever taking their first breath . . . and even when we bond together in the sublime experience of mission and service, we occasionally argue and hurt one another . . . and even when we hear beautiful music, we sometimes hear dissonant words and chords. And as we learn by looking at Jesus’ entire life, the journey of discipleship is not rosy and conflict free; it is the way of the cross. It is wrestling with the demons of our personal lives and it is wrestling with the demons of what we find in our culture and in our community life together.
But today, this day, is Transfiguration of the Lord Sunday. It is an extraordinary day today. It is a cause for celebration and wonder. It is a day for amazement. We get to see and hear who Jesus and who God really are. Life is good today.
We will need today for the journey ahead of us. For the Gospel message is this. We can say with Peter – “I knew it! He is the Messiah! My God is so great, so strong and so mighty. There’s nothing my God cannot do.” We can stretch out our arms above our head in the victory pose, all the while knowing this feeling of amazement and wonder is . . . not far from this – arms fully extended straight out from our sides, open arms, vulnerable, and crucified for each one of us and for all of God’s creation. “My God is so great, so strong and so mighty. There’s nothing my God cannot do for you.” AMEN.