"The Transfiguration" by Raphael
Have you ever experienced
sensory overload? I have told you before about flying over the Alps in a
helicopter. I was sitting in the front passenger seat and had glass all around
me, including under my feet. There was so much beauty to see, it was almost too
much to take in. That was a sensory overload for the eyes.
Like many of you, I
attended my share of rock concerts when I was young. I remember standing by a
huge bank of speakers and just reveling in the sensory overload of sound. I
imagine my hearing has never been the same since.
When I was nine years old
my parents took me on a trip to San Francisco. While we were there we enjoyed a
meal at an Italian restaurant that used to supply Mickey Cohen’s food for him
while he was incarcerated on Alcatraz. Because we were friends of Mickey, the
Paolis treated us like royalty. We didn’t order anything off the menu. They
just brought us one dish after another to try. There must have been seven
courses. That was a sensory overload for the palate.
When we lived in the
mountains of Virginia, we had to drive an hour or an hour and a half to get to
a decent grocery store. One of our trips would take us right through a farm
where the smell of manure was particularly potent. We often wondered how people
could stand to live with that smell day in and day out. Then we learned that
for people who do live around manure all the time, they no longer smell it.
That’s an experience of sensory overload for the nose.
Today, we are going to read
a story from Mark’s Gospel that tells of an experience of visual sensory
overload for Jesus’ disciples. Listen for God’s word to you from Mark 9:1-13….
And he said to them, “Truly I tell you, there
are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom
of God has come with[a] power.”
2 Six 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, 3 and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one[b] on earth could bleach
them. 4 And there appeared to them
Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5 Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here;
let us make three dwellings,[c] one for you, one for
Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6 He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7 Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a
voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved;[d] listen to him!” 8 Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any
more, but only Jesus.
9 As 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. 10 So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this
rising from the dead could mean. 11 Then they asked him, “Why do the scribes say that Elijah must come
first?” 12 He said to them, “Elijah is indeed coming first to restore all
things. How then is it written about the Son of Man, that he is to go through
many sufferings and be treated with contempt? 13 But I tell you that Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever
they pleased, as it is written about him.”
This story begins with a bit of a mystery. You may remember that chapter 8 of Mark’s
Gospel ended with a very negative statement. Jesus says, “Those who
are ashamed of me and of my words[j] in
this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be
ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”
This is one of those places where it is important to remember
that the Scriptures did not originally have chapters and verses. Those were
added later to aid the reader in finding certain sections or statements he or
she might be looking for. Thus, we must remember that Jesus’ negative statement
is immediately followed by a positive one: “Truly I
tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see
that the kingdom of God has come with power.”
The question is: to what time or event was Jesus
referring in this statement? Some have suggested that Jesus was talking about
the Second Coming. But that doesn’t seem to be the right answer because all of
his disciples died before he came to earth a second time. In fact, 2000 years
have come and gone, and we still haven’t seen the Second Coming of Christ.
Secondly, some people think that Jesus is
referring here to Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit was poured out on the Church.
That was certainly an experience of the kingdom of God coming in power.
And yet, it has always seemed to me, that by
putting this statement of Jesus right before the Transfiguration, Mark must be
trying to tell us that the Transfiguration was, in its own way, an experience
of the kingdom of God coming in power.
So much for that mystery. Now let’s look at
another one. People often ask, “What
exactly is Mark talking about here?” Is he talking about an historical
event? Or is he simply giving us a story with a spiritual message?
The fact that we even ask questions like this
reveals that we are inheritors of a Greek way of thinking. The Greeks loved to
parse things out. They tended to separate the spiritual and the physical. Not
so with the Jewish people of the first century. They had a much more holistic
view of life.
Thus, it seems to me that we have in this story
of the Transfiguration something that is at once physical and historical as
well as something spiritual. That Mark thinks he is telling the story of
something that really happened in history is without doubt. Mark says this
event took place “six days later”. That is to say, this event happened six
days, or about a week, after Jesus posed his important question to the
disciples in Caesarea Philippi: “Who do you say that I am?” Thus, it also seems
likely that this event took place on Mount Hermon, the highest peak in modern
day Syria, close by to the ancient town of Caesarea Philippi.
Another reason for thinking that Mark is
relating a historical event is because of the mixture of the spiritual with the
extremely earthly in this story. Who would have invented a spiritual story like
this where one of the main characters, Peter, seems to babble on in such an
incoherent manner? And what a homely way Mark has of telling us how white
Jesus’ clothes became, whiter than any laundry on earth could make them!
We must also remember that the early church
believed that Mark’s source for his Gospel was the preaching and teaching of
his Uncle Peter. If that is true, then what we have in this story is an
eyewitness account as it was remembered by a close family member of one of the
participants.
Be that as it may, what is Mark trying to
describe here? What is the Transfiguration?
The word that is used in Greek is one that has passed on into English:
metamorphosis. Jesus’ outward form was changed before the eyes of three of his
disciples: Peter, James, and John.
Now, before we jump to the conclusion that this
is very strange indeed, let us remember that we have all experienced something
like this. We have all seen people’s outward form change. I think of watching
my sons grow over the past 25 years from tiny infants into big, strapping men.
Their outward form changed before my eyes, albeit gradually. Or think of
someone who loses weight. I once lost fifty pounds through diet and exercise.
Unfortunately, I have gained it all back again. At any rate, my outward form
was transfigured, more than once, before the watching eyes of my family.
What makes Jesus’ metamorphosis so amazing is
that it happens all in an instant and he is transformed from an earthly form to
some kind of heavenly form in which his clothes become dazzlingly bright.
However, should this surprise us all that much? After all, there have been
countless stories, even in modern times, of near-death experiences and the like
in which people who see a spiritual or heavenly realm all uniformly report a
bright light. And that is precisely what we have in this story.
Furthermore, mystics of various religions talk
about “thin places” in the world. Locations where the veil between this earthly
realm and a more spiritual one is very thin and often momentarily drawn back.
For some people, a natural setting can become such a “thin place”. Others go
looking in church buildings and other religious structures in search of such an
encounter with the divine. For me there is one such place in England. It is a
tiny parish church outside of Oxford called St. Margaret’s. There is a holy
well outside and ancient graves in the churchyard. When one walks through the
Norman archway that forms the only entrance to the church, one is stepping onto
holy ground where people have worshipped for at least the last eight hundred
years.
I like what Tom Wright says about this account
in Mark:
It’s easy enough (and they
themselves must have known this) to dismiss such an experience as a
hallucination, albeit a very odd one. Jewish scriptures and traditions tell of
various events like this, when the veil of ordinariness that normally prevents
us from seeing the ‘inside’ of a situation is drawn back, and a fuller reality
is disclosed. Most of us don’t have experiences like this (nor did most early
Christians, so far as we can tell); but unless we allow sceptics to bully us we
should be free to affirm that this sort of thing has indeed happened to some
people (usually completely unexpectedly), and that such people usually regard
it as hugely important and life-changing.
Of course, the
other interesting feature of this story is that Moses and Elijah appear and have a conversation with Jesus. One
question this raises for me almost immediately is: How did Peter, James and
John recognize these two people who appeared and spoke with Jesus? Remember,
the Jewish people did not make graven images of other human beings. Peter,
James and John didn’t have iPhones on which they could look up popular images
of Moses and Elijah and go, “Yep, that’s them!”
Did Moses and
Elijah announce their names? Did Jesus mention their names in conversation?
Moreover, what did Jesus, Moses and Elijah talk about?
We simply do not
know, because Mark does not tell us. Again, we have more mystery.
However, there is
one thing that should be clear to anyone who has read the Bible as one complete
story, namely, what Moses and Elijah represent. Moses was the great giver of
the Law to God’s people. Elijah was one of the greatest prophets. The Jewish
people of Jesus’ time often referred to their Scriptures as “the Law and the
Prophets”. Thus, if nothing else, in the appearance of Moses and Elijah talking
to Jesus we have a very powerful symbol reminding us that the law and the
prophets point to Jesus as the Messiah.
I am reminded of
the Grunewald altarpiece, one of the most famous medieval altarpieces. Karl
Barth, one of the greatest theologians of the twentieth century had a
photograph of this altarpiece in his study to remind himself of his job as a
theologian. In this very striking painting we have many symbols. I wish to
focus on one of them. In the center of the painting we have Jesus hanging on
the cross. To Jesus’ left stands a man holding a book, with a lamb at his feet,
and he is pointing a crooked finger at Jesus. The man is John the Baptist, a
second Elijah according to the conversation that Jesus has with Peter, James, and
John at the end of Mark 8. But what is John the Baptist doing in the Grunewald
altarpiece? He is simply pointing to Jesus.
That is what
Moses and Elijah do in this story. They point us to Jesus. That is what every
Christian theologian like Karl Barth ought to be doing with their endless
tomes. That is what every Christian preacher should be doing with every sermon,
whether short or long. That is my goal as a pastor and a person, simply to
point others to Jesus.
Of course, one
reason we do not know how the disciples identified Moses and Elijah is because
no sooner do Moses and Elijah appear, then Peter starts babbling: “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings,
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
Mark adds that Peter did not know what to say,
for Peter, James and John were terrified. No kidding!
Why does Peter say what he does here? Actually, I think we have a very common human experience unfolding
in this story. What we have here is a true, mountaintop, spiritual experience.
When I was growing up, I often went on retreats with my church to the San
Bernardino Mountains in Southern California. People would often talk about
“mountaintop” experiences. At the time, I thought they simply meant that one
could have a wonderful spiritual experience at a Christian camp or retreat.
Little did I know then, that such expressions find their source in this story.
The Transfiguration was, for Peter, James and John, the ultimate mountaintop
experience.
Of course, the trouble with such spiritual highs
is that they are often followed by spiritual lows. We will look at this more
next week. However, for now, it is enough to notice that Peter has some inkling
of this law of undulation; he has some idea that spiritual highs are usually
followed by spiritual lows. Thus, like every human being, Peter wants to
prolong the high. He basically says to Jesus: “I’m just glad to be here. Let’s
build camp so we can all stay here forever.”
Though this is a common human strategy in life,
it never works. Next week, we will see why.
The next part of this story is perhaps the most
important, at least in my mind. A cloud
overshadows them. This is reminiscent of the glory cloud, the Shekinah
glory, that led the Israelites on their journey through the desert from Egypt
to the Promised Land. Remember, they were led by a cloud by day and a pillar of
fire by night. Of course, a cloud overshadowing the gathered assembly in this
story is another sign of mystery—the numinous.
Most significantly, after the cloud descends, a
voice speaks out of the cloud: “This
is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” This is the moment that the entire story has been building
towards.
It occurs to me
that it’s hard to listen while one’s mouth is moving. The words of Jesus,
Moses, and Elijah are lost to us because Peter started running over at the
mouth. It is almost as if God interrupts Peter and says: “Be quiet. Just
listen.”
This is the
seventh time that the word “listen” appears in Mark’s Gospel. Back in Mark 4:3
we heard Jesus say, “Listen! A sower went out to sow.” More than once, after
telling a story, Jesus says, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen!” (4:9) Jesus
quotes Isaiah, “they may indeed look, but not perceive, and may indeed listen,
but not understand; to that they may not turn again and be forgiven.” (4:12)
What a warning!
If we look but fail to perceive, if we listen, but without understanding, we
may miss two of God’s greatest gifts—turning (repentance) and forgiveness. Mark
has told us the story of Herod, who liked to listen to John the Baptist, but
who failed to understand and positively act upon what John was preaching. (Mark
6:20) I don’t think any of us really want to be like Herod, do we?
In the previous
chapter, Mark records Jesus as saying to the crowd, “Listen to me, all of you,
and understand.”
This story raises
for me the question: How do we listen to
Jesus today?
Personally, I
think there are many ways we can listen to Jesus today, but all of them start
with Scripture. We must start with the Gospels. The four Gospels of the New
Testament are the closest echo we have to the voice of the historical Jesus. If
you want to get to know what he was like, what he said, what he did, who he
was, then you have to read these books. If you soak yourself in the Gospels
then you will be able to recognize Jesus’ voice when you are in prayer. Yes, I
believe Jesus speaks to us through prayer today. If you soak yourself in the
Gospels, then you will be able to recognize the voice of Jesus speaking through
a friend, speaking through a book, speaking through a song, speaking through
the circumstances of your everyday life.
In fact, I
believe that learning to recognize the voice of Jesus is one of the most important
spiritual skills that we can acquire.
A new favorite
writer of mine is Barbara Brown Taylor. And in one of her books she says,
In Palestine today, it is
still possible to witness a scene that Jesus almost certainly saw two thousand
years ago, that of Bedouin shepherds bringing their flocks home from the
various pastures they have grazed during the day. Often those flocks will end
up at the same watering hole around dusk, so that they get all mixed up
together—eight or nine small flocks turning into a convention of thirsty sheep.
Their shepherds do not worry about the mix-up, however. When it is time to go
home, each one issues his or her own distinctive call—a special trill or
whistle, or a particular tune on a particular reed pipe, and that shepherd’s
sheep withdraw from the crowd to follow their shepherd home. They know whom
they belong to; they know their shepherd's voice, and it is the only one they
will follow.
I hope that by
God’s grace we are each getting to know the voice of our shepherd and furthermore
I hope that we are listening, understanding, and beginning to put into action
what that voice is telling us….
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