February 22, 2009:  WHAT’S IT FOR?
2 Kings 2:1-12, Mark 9:2-9, Psalm 50:1-6
Eileen Parfrey -- Springwater Presbyterian Church

           
            It has always puzzled me that today’s gospel lesson has gotten so much air time.  It’s the kind of story for which movies invented computer animation.  Each year, Jesus dazzles on a mountain top, talking with two guys who disappeared centuries earlier.  It is appropriate to inquire, a la the sermon title, “What’s it for?”  Coming as it does, just before Lent, can this story be the lectionary equivalent of Feast of Fools, the last fling of light before the darkness of Lent descends on Wednesday?  The joy and terror the disciples experience on the mountaintop, the message conveyed by the disembodied Voice, must imply something practical for the life of discipleship.  Doesn’t it? Otherwise, why do we get it each year?
            For the church, the story of Jesus’ transfiguration is a mystical highpoint, utilizing Israel’s every glory clue.  The scene drenched in light, taking place on a high mountain, echoes Moses meeting the glory of the God on the way out of Egypt.  The speaking cloud that overshadows reminds us of the cloud that led Israel through the wilderness for 40 years.  The two figures joining Jesus to personify the Law and the prophets are just about two of the most important Jews to ever live.  A movie reviewer might decide the scene is over-the-top, cliché-ridden, beyond the realm of possible. 
            Bursting the scene of glory, Peter blurts out that thing about building houses.  We don’t even have time to wonder what’s up with the dunderhead before our thoughts are interrupted by the Voice.  Jesus heard this Voice at his baptism.  Then, he was the only one to hear it, although, we readers were in on the secret.  Then, the Voice claimed Jesus as Beloved Son, affirming pleasure with him.  Now, the Voice affirms Jesus as Son, but it adds, “Listen to him.”  Which is baffling.  It’s not like Peter interrupts anyone.  The last conversation we heard was 6 days before Jesus took them up the mountain.  Jesus opens that conversation by asking, “Who do people say I am?”  After Peter confesses Jesus as the Messiah, Jesus teaches his followers that he will suffer and be rejected and finally killed.  Horrified, Peter actually rebukes his teacher, so Jesus chews him out, implying a satanic dissing of the divine plan, before he turns to the crowd to urge them to willingly choose suffering and self denial. 
            This is Mark’s whole kingdom schtick:  deny yourself, save your life by losing it for the sake of others.  And Mark underlines his theological point by having Jesus end the conversation by saying, “There are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God.”  Does he mean that what happens on the mountain is the kingdom come?  The Transfiguration happens six days after Jesus makes the prediction (it’s the very next thing to happen), and the number 6 is Biblish shorthand for “not complete,” so I don’t think it is the kingdom.  Besides, for Mark, there is no triumph without the cross, no kingdom without suffering.
           So, even the glory of the transfiguration isn’t God’s kingdom come.  About the only practical thing we can take away from the event is the advice, Listen!  Listen to what?  There’s some irony in the advice since all the action here is visual, and most people don’t hear what their eyes perceive.  The point being, the disciples can’t understand what they see happen to Jesus with Moses and Elijah, because they haven’t listened to what he taught them earlier:  deny yourself; lose your life to save it; follow me, even when it means participating in suffering; don’t expect God’s plans to look successful in human terms.
            What happens up on the mountain is only part of the story.  Without the previous conversation, we aren’t prepared to understand Jesus’ message of love and the cross.  One of my lectionary buddies says he once had a glory-filled, revelation epiphany experience like the Mount of Transfiguration.  It was a mountaintop experience that changed his life and set him on the path of a life of faith.  The most saintly woman in his congregation, however, has never had an experience like his, and that really puzzled him.  Out of humility, he has concluded that his mountaintop experience is not due to his credit.   The implication he draws is that those with weak faith (such as himself) get direct experiences of glory, because perhaps they would not be able to sustain faith in a more mundane way.  My friend believes it is the saints who carry on lives of faith without fireworks and mountaintops who are the truly holy and faithful. 
            CS Lewis puts another perspective on our natural desire for mountaintop experiences of God.  He compares looking at a map of the ocean to actually going to the beach and experiencing the ocean.  Colored ink on paper is unlike water, sand, surf, rocks.  But to successfully navigate the ocean, a map, representing the collected ocean experiences of others, is a good and useful thing.   Both map and ocean are valid.  The disciples are told here to listen—perhaps to know where they are going, perhaps to benefit from the experience of others as they make their own attempt to navigate the ocean.  Listen.
            As long as we’re listening, perhaps we ought to hear the front part of that message again.  “This is my son, the Beloved.”  The Voice says that before anything else.  It all starts with the love of God expressed in Jesus.  And while most of us will never have a direct experience of the glory of God, we have heard the Voice whispering to each of us, “Beloved.”  The day you were born, when you were baptized, just as at Jesus’ baptism, the Voice claimed you as beloved.  “You are my daughter, you are my son, the beloved.  With you I am well pleased.” 
            The disciples needed to listen in order to learn who Jesus is—both Son of God and Son of Man.  As Son of God, Jesus is powerful, the agent of healing, the subject of glory.  As Son of Man, Jesus is betrayed and persecuted and crucified.  Both God and human.  The disciples also needed to listen in order to learn who they are.  We want the glory we see without the message we hear, and Mark tells us this is not possible.  We need to listen, to hear the invitation to self-denial, to lose our lives, to hear that we, too, are God’s beloved.  We need to see, as well, the awesome, the mystic, the unexplainable.  Otherwise how can we have the courage to follow Jesus, even through suffering?  We need the beyond-the-possible, unexplained event that knocks our socks off.  Even if we don’t experience it ourselves, we need to know there is glory.  Otherwise Jesus is just a fine teacher.  And what’s the point of staking your life on that?  That’s what we do when we listen, when we see.  We stake our lives on that Voice who says to each of us, “You are my beloved child.”

CS Lewis, The Joyful Christian.