Sermon for Transfiguration of Our Lord – Mark 9:2-9

The Transfiguration is a weird little story. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John for a hike up a high mountain. Then suddenly Jesus is transfigured before their eyes. His clothes became dazzling white. They see Moses and Elijah having some kind of secret conversation with Jesus. I’m not sure exactly how they recognize Moses and Elijah versus anyone else from the Old Testament, but they do. Now, Mark makes clear this is a terrifying sight. The disciples fear for their lives. These supernatural visions are always terrifying. Think about every time an angel appears. What’s the first thing they say? Be not afraid. Like we could even do that on command. And Peter who’s always ready to speak right up has no idea what to say, so he starts babbling. “Rabbi, this is good. Let’s make tents for the three of you.” Does that really make sense? Then a cloud overshadows them and they hear, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Then suddenly it all vanishes and they just see plain old Jesus again. They go down the mountain and Jesus orders them to keep everything secret.

What do we do with this reading? Some folks suggest this is like a mountaintop experience, where Peter sees Jesus in shimmering robes, and Elijah and Moses the patriarchs we all know and love, so he wants to stay there forever. I get that. Awesome spiritual highs are great and we all hate going back to the same old grind. But, the disciples were terrified, so I’m not sure that fits….

Other folks talk about the Transfiguration as Jesus finally giving the disciples a taste of his divinity. To show them that he really is the Son of God. But, the gospel of Mark is unusual because Jesus always downplays that. Whenever he casts out demons, he commands them to keep silent so they don’t give him away. He heals folks and commands then to tell no one. Or tells them, “your faith has made you well.” Jesus really doesn’t want to be glorified. He came not to BE served but TO serve. He doesn’t do miracles to draw attention to himself (which is a pretty odd way to go incognito, but Jesus is a pretty odd guy). What he really wants is to make faith in things unseen or ordinary, not convince us by extravagant magic tricks like transfiguration. So I’m not sure that fits either.

Besides, Peter already made his faith confession about a week earlier. Jesus asked “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answered. “You are the Messiah.” And Jesus orders them not to tell anyone. But, this time Jesus decides to finally open up to the the disciples. He tells them the whole story – his calling to be beaten, rejected, killed, and raised, But Peter has some BIG problems with that roadmap. He gets angry. He rebukes Jesus. So Jesus turns it right back at Peter. “Get behind me, Satan!” Such a human reaction for Jesus. How many times have we done that? Someone gets angry and we get angry right back at them, maybe because we don’t think they have a right to be?

Jesus is concerned. They don’t get that Messiah means death and loss. So he calls the crowds and escalates with that sermon we all know. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” Now, we don’t know how folks reacted, but I bet they didn’t love it. I don’t think it hits our ears any better. Jesus isn’t just calling us to be nicer people. He’s calling us to literally give our lives away for others, to suffer and die for the sake of justice and righteousness. Jesus is calling us into those dangerous and risky places where we lose friends and attract derision, but we’re scared to death of that. I mean, for as much as I care about racial justice, have I been so bold as to put a Black Lives Matter sign in my front yard? Which shouldn’t be controversial but we all know it is. Do we speak up when we hear hatred and prejudice come out of peoples’ mouths? Do we take action? Or do we shrink away and ask ourselves if it’s worth the fight?

Yet, our crosses won’t go away. Neither will Jesus’. He knows the situation is urgent. So a few days later, he takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain to drive home what he’s been saying all along. The Transfiguration is a vision of death. Jesus must suffer and die. The disciples see Jesus in his dazzling white robe, but it’s not a vision of grace or beauty. It’s the robe that the dead martyrs wear in the book of Revelation. It means he’s already arrayed for death. He always was. He speaks with Moses and Elijah because they’re dead. Yet, Peter still fights it, and so do we. We don’t want to go where Jesus is leading us. Peter wants to pitch tents, just like we want to cling to the status quo, even though it’s killing us.

But the good news is that Jesus still goes to the cross. He knows we’re too afraid to follow. He knows how tightly we cling to everything else but him for our security. He knows we fail to stand for justice and righteousness. Yet, he loves us so much as to take the whole weight of the world and our sin upon his own body on the cross, and it kills him. But three days later, he’s raised in the glory of his resurrection, just as he promised. So that nothing, not even death, would ever stand between us and him. That’s why Jesus tells his disciples not to tell anyone about what they’ve seen until after he rose from the dead. And because Jesus was raised, we can know there’s nowhere we could ever go that Jesus isn’t already there waiting for us with arms outstretched. It’s a genius move, because it means that we can’t help but follow him.

Of course, it’s true that we still try to avoid those situations that make us uncomfortable. Those bears we don’t want to poke. Like St. Paul says, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. But have you ever noticed how the harder we try to play it safe, the more that high drama seems to blow up right in front of us? I’ve got stories and I’m sure you do too. But Jesus never said we have to go looking for our cross. Our cross always finds us. It’s uncanny. Jesus never promised it would be easy. But what Jesus DOES promise is to send us his own Spirit, to make the kind of faith in our hearts that weathers that storm. The kind of faith that doesn’t see problems, but opportunities. Opportunities to bear the same forgiveness and grace to others that Jesus bore to us. Sure, we still get battered. We all have scars like Jesus’ marks. But even this is a gift.

Now, forgiveness and grace don’t mean giving a pass on prejudice or hatred. These aren’t soft skills. Forgiveness speaks truth to power. It calls a thing what it is. But it also testifies that there’s another way. No one is beyond the reach of what Jesus’s powerful Word will do. And grace lets it get to work, to reach into those dark and dangerous places where we’re skeptical that folks can change. At the end of the day, all we can do is hang everything on that hope, because what comes out of our mouths is going to piss a few folks off. Don’t be surprised. Look at what happened to Jesus. But just like Jesus waited for us, by God we’re going to wait for them, because they’re worth it.