On Sunday, our Lay Worship Leader preached on the reading from Luke, telling the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus. Here is a link for the readings, and her homily.
We are coming to the end of the season of Epiphany, during which the Gospel readings have moved from the baptism of Jesus, through the wedding at Canaan, Jesus’ unwelcome declaration at his local synagogue, swiftly followed by a quick hop back to his childhood and his presentation as a baby in the Temple. After this, we go back to the man Jesus, calling his disciples, teaching the crowds and finally on this Sunday, we come to the climax of this series of readings, we come to the account of the vision of Jesus on the mountaintop, shining in some strange way and being reaffirmed as God’s beloved son.
What do these readings all have in common? The clue is in the name given to the season: Epiphany. We use it ourselves, don’t we, when we have had a sudden realisation of something, when something is made clear to us. We say, for example, “When I read that, I had an epiphany” – It was obvious, I understood. The word itself comes from the Greek word, meaning “manifest, conspicuous," And this is what these stories are about – they are telling us some of the ways that Jesus was revealed to those he met and interacted with; they are telling us who Jesus is by revealing what he did, and said, and what was said about him.
Of course, humankind is often dull, and unobservant, and there is a good chance that most of Jesus’ contemporaries, just like most of the present world, failed to understand, or even to see, what was in front of them. And what is that? What is the message that Jesus brought, and the church should be preaching today? That encountering God transforms lives.
We see this time and again in the Gospels, how, when truly face-to-face with Jesus, people react. Sometimes by falling to their knees and praising him; sometimes by turning away in anger, or fear, or sorrow. This vision of Jesus, seen walking, deep in conversation, with Moses and Elijah, was, I think, the moment when Peter James and John, Jesus’ closest friends were faced with the reality of who Jesus was. Maybe they had been there at his baptism, or at the wedding. They were definitely there for the miraculously huge catch of fish, they had heard his teaching, seen him perform miracles…but I think this moment, on the very height of the mountain, was when they had those first inklings of the true person of Jesus confirmed. They saw clearly. They understood. It was amazing and wonderful, they were uplifted and astonished, full of sudden enthusiasm for serving this man who had called them to a different life.
In seeing Jesus for what he is – God’s beloved son, the Messiah – they were transformed. Their lives were irrevocably changed. Perhaps up until this point, they had only thought Jesus was an interesting preacher, a healer, a teacher with unorthodox ideas about God, and love, and service. But that day, they were told two things: firstly, that Jesus was the Son of God, and secondly that they should listen to him.
The word we use for this event - “transfiguration” - holds the idea of a change of appearance, but it also holds the idea of a change of form. Jesus not only looked different to those three men, but they saw him differently too. They understood more about what and who he was.
We may smile at Peter wanting to build tabernacles, little shelters, for Moses and Elijah and Jesus – “Oh, Peter! There he goes again – saying something impulsive and a bit foolish” – but who can blame him? He has just had the vision of the man he followed speaking to patriarchs of the past, and he had just heard the voice of God…no wonder he wanted to hang onto that experience; he wanted to put it in a box and be able to experience it for all time.
But that wasn’t to be. I’m sure you have heard sermons preached before about the Transfiguration of Jesus, that say, “you cannot stay on the mountaintop forever” and we all recognise that this is true. We know that ordinary life awaits us when we come away from encountering God, be that at an amazing church service, or when pondering the night sky from the summit of Puy de Dome, or from a silent retreat in a monastery…Wherever you have had a profound meeting with God, you cannot stay there. The messy everyday awaits us.
As it did when Jesus and his three disciples came down from the mountain, immediately they were embroiled in the hurting world of a desperate father, a young boy suffering from epilepsy, or something similar, and the helpless disciples who were trying to deal with a situation beyond their control. From the sublime to – well, not the ridiculous, as there was nothing ridiculous about the situation. But Jesus did then, what he calls on us to do today – he got on with the job. He did what he always did: he helped those who cried out in need…and, as we heard in the reading: “all were astounded at the greatness of God”
When we realise who Jesus really is, when we have an “epiphany”, as it were, seeing the man Jesus and the divine Christ intertwined, we too have to have a reaction. We cannot stay the same. As Christians we allow that glory that we have seen to change our hearts. In the Epistle reading Paul reminds his readers that in the freedom of the Spirit we can look full in the wonderful face of Jesus, and the life-giving presence of God reflected there transforms us. He describes the Christian life as an ongoing process of the glory of God becoming more and more a reality in and around us. It is a process of becoming more and more like Christ in every way, and therefore more and more like God.
And as I said, we cannot stay on the mountain, holding onto that epiphany. Our eyes have been opened to the glory of God and our response should be to go down the mountainside, recognising that God does not only live in the heights, but is also down in the valley, where the light is sometimes obscured, where life is not one of joy and excitement, but of humdrum every day-ness, and where there is pain and distress and need.
As one commentator wrote: “There are two beloved sons in this story” – one seen on the mountaintop, Jesus, the son of God, and one seen in the shadows, the beloved son suffering from seizures. We are called to step from one to the other. We are called to recognise Jesus in both – in the glory but in the sorrow also. We are called to take the light that has filled us with wonder to those who are suffering, and to show God’s love to those in need.
The story of the Transfiguration is not just a slightly weird story of a glowing Jesus and Peter making one of his foot-in-mouth statements. It’s not just about the change in the disciples’ view of their Master. It is about opening our eyes to glory, allowing that glory to alter us, and becoming willing to walk where it leads us. The story urges us to trust that what we have seen, what we have known, will go with us. It assures us that the gifts received on the mountaintop will continue to illuminate us not only on level ground but even when we walk in the valley of the shadow.
(Using a poem by Jan Richardson, we pray…)
That when glory comes,
we will open our eyes
to see it.
That when glory shows up,
we will let ourselves
be overcome
not by fear
but by the love
it bears.
That when glory shines,
we will bring it
back with us
all the way,
all the way,
all the way down.
—Jan Richardson
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