Transfiguration Sunday
February 23, 2020
2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9
This last Sunday before Lent is called Transfiguration
Sunday and we read the story of Jesus being transfigured on the mountain in
front of the disciples Peter, James, and John. We know mountaintops are
significant. On top of Mount Sinai is where Moses received the Ten
Commandments. (On top of Old Smokey…?) It was in a cave on Mount Horeb that God
passed by Elijah, not in the wind or the earthquake or the fire but in the
small, still voice. And now Jesus takes three of the disciples up another
mountain and is transfigured before them. His face shines like the sun. His
clothes become as white as the light. And two more people appear, Moses and
Elijah, who talk with Jesus. Moses was the person God called to lead the
Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and through the wilderness for 40 years to
the Promised Land. Elijah was the last prophet left when King Ahab and Queen
Jezebel went on a killing rampage and after taking some time apart, he went
back to challenge them and became one of the most famous prophets, even if he
didn’t write a book about it like Isaiah or Jeremiah.
The timing of this encounter is curious. We’re told it’s
six days later. To read later than what, you have to go back to Matthew 16.
There, Peter makes this dramatic confession about who Jesus is. Some people are
saying that Jesus is Elijah come back again, or John the Baptist, or even
Jeremiah or one of the other prophets. Jesus presses Peter, asking, “But you,
who do you say that I am?” And Peter
answers, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Ding, ding, ding!
Peter gets it right. 100% right. He knows exactly who Jesus is and Jesus says
that he will build his church on Peter and give Peter the keys to the kingdom. Peter’s
golden and he does become the head leader of the early church and the first
Pope. Yet in the very next paragraph, Jesus begins to tell the disciples about
how he’s going to suffer, be put to death by the authorities, and will rise to
life on the third day, and Peter says “No! This will not happen!” Peter knows
who Jesus is, but does not want Jesus to follow the path to the cross. Jesus
responds by calling Peter Satan and says those wonderful lines, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up
their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save
their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.
What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet
forfeit their soul?” Six days after this conversation is when Jesus is
transfigured. “Thus, the transfiguration scene must be read in light of
Peter’s insight and failure but also
Jesus’ unflinching promise. In short, glory and the cross mix. Suffering and
promises of judgment are intertwined. The cross and the glory of God are not at
odds.”[1]
They go together.
Let’s look at Peter’s response to Jesus’ transfiguration.
He says something to the effect of, “Jesus, isn’t this great that we’re here? We
need to do something. We should mark and memorialize this moment. What do you
think about building three shrines here, one for you, one for Moses, and one
for Elijah? Great idea, right?” Peter is caught up in the moment. I can imagine
Jesus might smile at his enthusiasm. Peter is overwhelmed by glory and wants to
act; he feels moved to do something.
We react different ways when we’re overwhelmed and part
of it depends on what we’re overwhelmed by. Moses found out he was standing on
holy ground and needed to mark it by taking off his shoes. When Elijah found
himself in a holy moment, he put his cloak over his face. How do you respond to
holy moments? With tears? With awe? Moving towards a posture of worship and
bowing down? Do you find yourself wanting to memorialize it or finding a
physical object with which to mark it? For years, I kept a candle that I had
molded into the shape of a heart to remember the holy time when it was lit at a
middle school youth retreat.
And then how do you respond to other overwhelming
moments? When you get bad news, or dealing with health issues, or there’s too
much to do, or you’re feeling the pressure of deadlines or decision, or maybe
you’re trying to juggle too many things, whether the little things have added
up or there are multiple big things that need your attention. So many things
can overwhelm us, good and bad and neutral. What do you do when you’re
overwhelmed? Some people lash out. Others can’t stop talking or they over-eat
or have trouble ending some other activity. Some people shut down. They’re
done. You may turn defensive and cry or internalize the overwhelming-ness as
failure. You may turn offensive and get angry and violent and yell and blame
others. These are all different responses and it’s not an exhaustive list. Each
of us respond differently to being overwhelmed and context matters; it depends
on what is causing the feeling of overwhelmed. It’s not always because we see
Jesus in all his glory and recognize this is a holy moment, possibly the
holiest I will ever witness. So, what are healthy and faithful and life-giving
ways to respond?
For Peter and the disciples, God intervenes. Peter is all
excited and asks Jesus about building shrines, when another voice speaks up. “This
is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” It’s the same voice speaking
the same words as at Jesus’ baptism, although there weren’t any disciples present
then. When Jesus is baptized in the Jordan by John, as he comes up out of the
water, a voice from heaven speaks and says the same thing. “This is my Son, the
Beloved, with whom I am pleased.” Peter, James, and John hear this voice and
now they have a different response. They are overwhelmed by the holy even more
than they were before, and this time they fall facedown to the ground and are
terrified. It’s like a toddler who triggered an action toy to dance and talk
and they had no idea it did that and they go running crying back to their
parents. God speaks. Peter, James, and John don’t just witness the
transfiguration and see Moses and Elijah; they
also hear God speak from heaven! No wonder they’re terrified! They are
scared… to death. They fall face down. They can’t even. They are completely
overwhelmed by awe and fear.
Jesus reaches down and touches them, perhaps on the
shoulder or the back. Physical touch can get your attention in ways other
things can’t when you’re overwhelmed. Not everyone is touchy-feely, but a touch
at just the right time can redirect our focus. Jesus says, “Get up. Don’t be
afraid.” It’s like when Jesus calms the storm on the sea. Jesus is out with the
disciples on the fishing boat. He’s napping while the disciples are fishing.
Then a storm comes up and the disciples are terrified. The boat starts to sink.
The disciples wake Jesus up because
they’re convinced they’re going to drown. The waves are going to overwhelm them
and this is the end unless Jesus does something. Jesus says, “O you of little
faith, why are you so afraid?” And Jesus calms the sea and the storm. Or when
Peter walks on water, his eyes on Jesus for a while… until he notices the wind
has picked up and the waves are getting choppier. He starts to sink and cries out,
“Lord, save me!” Jesus reaches out his hand and catches him, again with similar
words, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” When we get caught up in the
wind and the waves, when we get caught up in the storm, when we get caught up
in the feeling of overwhelming-ness, is when our faith starts to shrink. When
we’re looking at what’s going on all around us and it’s completely terrifying
and overpowering and all-encompassing and threatening to do us in, that’s when
doubts can creep in because we forget that nothing
can overpower Jesus. Nothing. Not even death. Not even the tomb can hold Jesus.
We may be overpowered, but Jesus is
not.
At
the end of the scene, all Peter, James, and John see is Jesus. There is no more
transfiguration, no more dazzling light, no more Moses and Elijah, no more
ideas about building shrines, no more voices from heaven. Just Jesus. No more
waves and storm, no more chaos, no more overwhelming-ness; it’s still going on
around them, but their focus has shifted. They are now focused on Jesus. It’s
hard to remember it in the moment, I know. I get overwhelmed sometimes, too.
But try, ask Jesus to help you, ask him now, so you don’t have to remember that
when the time comes, ask him that when you are overwhelmed for him to redirect your
focus back to him. The faithful, healthy response to feeling overwhelmed is to take
a deep breath. Slow down. Pay attention to what’s most important. Be in the
moment. Ask for help. Focus on Jesus and not on the overwhelming situation. Ask
Jesus to intervene. There’s a hymn that’s about a hundred years old called
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus” (UMH 349). Sing it with me if you know it.
Turn
your eyes upon Jesus
Look
full in His wonderful face
And
the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In
the light of His glory and grace
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