Scripture Text: Mark 9: 2-10
2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. 9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. 10So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean.
The wilderness has taught us to see things differently, to open our minds and widen our souls. It has called us to remove the veil that we have created in our lives to shield us from the things that do not make sense in our world. The journey through the wilderness has brought us to this place, brought us to this mountain. Don’t you think the disciples were sort of wondering where they were going? After all, they had left everything they had, had given up everything and sacrificed all of those things that made life secure and safe. They did it all to follow Jesus and now they are climbing up this mountain to a place that they did not know.
The mountain that Jesus and the disciples climb sounds a lot like Mount Sinai rising out of the wilderness that Moses had ascended centuries before. And there on the mountain, they see Jesus change, his clothes taking on a hue of dazzling, blinding white, whiter than anything they had ever seen before. And on the mountain appear Moses and Elijah, standing there with Jesus—the law, the prophets, all of those things that came before, no longer separate, but suddenly swept into everything that Christ is, swept into the whole presence of God right there on that mountain. And then the voice…”This is my Son, my Chosen: listen to him!” OK…what would you have done? First the mountain, then the cloud, then these spirits from the past, and now this voice…”We are going to die. We are surely going to die,” they must have thought. And then, just as suddenly as they appeared, Moses and Elijah drop out of sight and Jesus was standing there alone, completely unveiled. And all that was and all that is has become part of that, swept into this Holy Presence of God. And, more importantly, we are invited into it. No longer are we shielded from God’s Presence. We become part of it, a mirror for all to experience and encounter the living God. And so the disciples start down the mountain. Jesus remains with them but they kept silent. The truth was that Jesus knew that this account would only make sense in light of what was to come. The disciples would know when to tell the story. They saw more than Jesus on the mountain. They also saw who and what he was. And long after Jesus is gone from this earth, they will continue to tell this strange story of what they saw. For now, he would just walk with them. God’s presence remains. The Hebrews understood that no one could see God and live. You know, I think they were right. No one can see God and remain unchanged. We die to ourselves and emerge in the cloud, unveiled before this God that so desires us to know the sacred and the holy that has always been before us. The truth is, when we are really honest with ourselves, we probably are a little like the disciples. We’d rather not really have “all” of God. We’d rather control the way God enters and affects our lives. We’d rather be a little more in control of any metamorphosis that happens in our lives. We’d rather be able to pick and choose the way that our lives change. We’d rather God’s Presence come blowing in at just the right moment as a cool, gentle, springtime breeze. In fact, we’re downright uncomfortable with this devouring fire, bright lights, almost tornado-like God that really is God.
Here in the wilderness, with bright white lights and shrouds of wonder, we have seen God. Here, in this place, where the wilderness has brought us. We have arrived open-eyed and soul-ready for God’s Presence to be made known. And this was nothing like anything that we would have imagined—Old Testament heroes re-appearing, God speaking from the cloud, and Jesus all lit up so brightly that it is hard for us to look at him. And then the lights dim. There are no chariots, Moses and Elijah are gone, and, if only for a little while, God stops talking. And in the silence, Jesus starts walking down the mountain toward Jerusalem. You know, on some level, for all the dramatic sequences of this story, I think the way down the mountain is the point of it all. I mean, think about it, the disciples went up as students, as mentees, as admirers, and came down as followers. The way down is where the transformation begins to be, when they know where they had to go. Now I’m sure that Jesus knew that the ones who walked with him were not ready. I’m sure he knew that they thought they had more time with him. I’m sure he knew that they doubted themselves. But it was time. And Jesus knew that if they followed, they would know the way. And in this moment, Jesus’ journey to the Cross begins and the disciples, for all the antics that they will pull over the next few days, begin the same journey.
And us? I’m sure Jesus knows how difficult this has been for us. I’m sure Jesus knows that there is a part of us that would’ve liked to have avoided the whole thing, to move from the Mardi Gras party right into the sanctuary when they are setting up the Easter lilies. But then we would have missed the wilderness and we wouldn’t know where to go. We know now what we must do, where we must go. We know that we are called to follow Jesus. The way down is hard. Jerusalem is going to be even harder. But the wilderness has taught us that it is where we must go. You see, in this wilderness, we have changed. We have learned to let go, to get out of ourselves, to see things differently. We have learned to listen. We have learned to follow. And that is what we will do. Jerusalem awaits.
When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there’d be room for him to stay. (Brian Andreas)
FOR TODAY: The gates of the city are just up ahead. There is no other way around. This is not an easy journey. But it one that all of must walk. As you enter this Holiest of Weeks, what do you need to leave behind? And what do you need to carry into the city?
Grace and Peace,