Transfiguration
Illustration in L'histoire dv Vieux et dv Nouveau Testament by Nicolas Fontaine, circa 1670, courtesy of the Digital Archives, Pitts Theology Library, Candler School of Theology, Atlanta. Click on image to link to source.
Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” –Luke 9:35
The gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke describe the life of Jesus as a journey with distinct phases. His Galilean ministry, in the north country nearer his boyhood home, begins with his inaugural sermon at Nazareth. It ends with the event we read about today. After the Transfiguration, Jesus increasingly turns his attention toward the capital city of Jerusalem.
Each time we read the Transfiguration Story, we recall the similarities between each gospel writer’s account. Luke, like Matthew and Mark, remembers the Transfiguration following soon after Jesus’ first prediction of his death (9:21-27). He recalls the hike made up the mountain for meditation and prayer. Luke agrees there was a shared mystical experience during which time Peter, James, and John saw Elijah and Moses meeting with Jesus.
In an effort to understand and appreciate what happened on the mountain, preachers and theologians have drawn from their own experiences. Barbara Brown Taylor, for example, writes about travel to Ireland, and the cultural sense of the sacred found in nature. Everywhere she turns in Ireland, she says she finds holy trees, holy wells, and holy mountains.
Taylor tells us that the Irish call such sites “thin places.” Thin places are locations where the realm of the physical seems to meet realm of the divine. There, the veil between this world and the next seems so sheer that you could simply step through.[1] Maybe the Transfiguration Story is rooted in a powerful experience like that.
Luke differs from Matthew and Mark by telling us the subject of the conversation between these three great leaders. Jesus discusses with them the strategy involved in his “exodus,” the word translated in our Bible as “departure.” That departure will be actively sought by Jesus rather than passively accepted. Jesus is to “accomplish” it at Jerusalem.
Peter is struck by awe so powerful that it demands a response. He proposes to build three “dwellings,” as if the moment could be captured, as if they all could just live on the mountaintop for some time. While he is saying this, the response to his proposal takes shape. An ominous cloud rolls in, obscuring their vision. In that dark and terrifying moment, a voice comes from the cloud. It is the voice of God, offering a saving word of direction, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him.”
In his classic commentary on Luke, Joseph Fitzmyer writes of this verse, “Heaven’s word thus substitutes Jesus, its chosen messenger and Son, for the withdrawing heavenly figures of old. Instead of trying to hold on to the figures of old, the heavenly voice charges the disciples to listen to Jesus. The implication is that he now speaks with greater authority than Moses and Elijah.”[2]
A Presbyterian pastor I admire named Michael Lindvall has suggested that in that moment, Peter faced an important choice. The holy, surreal, beautiful, visionary moment could orient him in one of two directions. He could use the memory of this moment to escape from obligation, to live in the past, to passively smile and remember a golden time that would become increasingly distant from his day-to-day reality. Or could use the memory of this moment to nourish him as he faced the future, to inspire him to participate in God’s continuing work of transformation.
Christ-inspired transformation sounds like a complex and intimidating concept. Through the years, I’ve looked for concrete and easy-to-understand examples. One example I kept for my files stems from Art Buchwald, who was for many years a columnist at the Washington Post.
Buchwald began his meditation describing the power of a gracious smile, a pleasant greeting, a sincere thank you. He described making a point of thanking a taxi driver for doing a superb job in delivering him safely and on time. But the cab driver, unused to praise, thought he was being sarcastic, and drove off in a huff.
Then Buchwald wrote a philosophical dialogue arguing for the value of practicing love in ways as simple as common courtesy.
· “How can one (person) save a city?” “It’s not one (person). Suppose (the taxi driver) has twenty fares. He’s going to be nice to them because someone was nice to him. Those fares in turn will be kinder to their employees or cashiers or waiters or even their own families. Eventually the goodwill could spread to at least 1,000 people. Not bad, right?”
· “But you’re depending on that taxi driver to pass along your good will to others.” “I’m aware that my system isn’t foolproof. I might make an effort to deal with ten people like that today. If out of ten I can make three happy, then eventually I can indirectly influence the attitudes of 3,000 more.”
· “It sounds good on paper, but I’m not sure it works in practice.” “Listen, it didn’t take any more time to tell that man he did a good job. He received neither a larger nor smaller tip. If it fell on deaf ears, tomorrow there will be another taxi driver I can try to make happy. Nothing is lost if I try. All might be lost if I don’t.[3]
Of the many ways we might apply the Transfiguration Story, this avenue seems one of the most productive to me. We face Peter’s choice every day. We can bask in the glow of beautiful memories, and try to insulate ourselves from the pain of the world. Or, we can be inspired by beautiful memories to do something, to face real problems, to follow Jesus down the mountain to perform acts of kindness and service. Nothing is lost if we try. Much might be lost if we don’t.
NOTES
[1] Barbara Brown Taylor, Home By Another Way, Cambridge: Cowley Publications, 1999, pp. 57-59.
[2] Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “The Gospel According to Luke I – IX,” Vol. 28 in “The Anchor Bible,” Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Co., 1981, p. 803.
[3] From Chicken Soup for the Soul, ed. Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen, 1993, as related by K. Brown, “Everything Matters,” a sermon delivered to the Plymouth Congregational Church, Wichita, KS, 1 Oct. 1995.
READ MORE, https://www.fpcedw.org/pastors-blog
