The View From The Mountaintop
Children's sermon
Illustration
Preaching
Sermon
Worship
Object:
We have all had what we call "mountaintop" experiences in our lives -- times when we feel we have overcome great challenges or risen above the cares of the world. These are moments in which we feel we are changed forever. As we prepare to celebrate the Sunday of the Transfiguration, we encounter this type of experience in the gospel account. While we know that the disciples were changed forever by witnessing this awesome display, the question remains: Are we changed? When we come into the presence of God in worship, do we climb down the mountain the same as when we ascended? Carlos Wilton will provide the main article, with Thom Shuman writing Another View. Illustrations, a liturgy, and a children's sermon are also included.
The View From The Mountaintop
Carlos Wilton
Matthew 17:1-9
THE WORLD
The mountains call out to us. They call us first to "lift up our eyes to the hills," then to ascend, and finally to stand upon the summit, taking in the breathtaking scenery all around. From time immemorial, mountains have stood as a metaphor for human aspiration.
To Sir Edmund Hillary, mountains were more than a metaphor. Since his death on January 11th at the age of 88, the world has remembered this adventurer who, in 1953 -- along with his Sherpa guide, Tenzing Norgay -- was the first to stand atop the summit of Everest, the world's highest peak.
Jesus, too, once climbed a mountain, as we read in Matthew 17:1-9. We don't know why he did it, exactly, but we do know what happened there. He was glorified. His appearance changed, and his clothing became dazzling white. His few companions of the moment were blessed with an unforgettable vision not only of who he is, but also of how God can transform the ordinary into the numinous, the holy.
Is that not what we are seeking, as we come to worship? Are we, too, not ascending a mountain, looking to be in some way transformed?
THE WORD
Nearly 2,000 years ago, four men hiked up the side of a mountain in Israel. What they saw there is still being told today. Peter, James, and John follow Jesus up the steep mountain trail, until their knees ache and their backs hurt and their breaths come in short gasps. As they reach the summit, they pause to fill their lungs with air, and gaze around at the awesome vista that surrounds them on four sides -- and then they see something else. Suddenly, their Lord is "transfigured" before them. The word Matthew uses is metamorphosis: total change. The face of their beloved teacher shines like the sun, and his garments have become dazzling white.
Beside him appear two visitors. They are none other than Moses and Elijah, the greatest prophets of Israel. A bright cloud overshadows all three of them. It is the shekinah of the book of Exodus, the same glowing cloud that Moses entered on Mount Sinai long ago. From out of this cloud there thunders a voice: "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" To the readers of Matthew's gospel, it calls to mind his baptism, when the Lord spoke similar words from out of heaven.
It is a vision of power, and surely an impressive experience for those disciples -- yet, not so impressive that they don't soon forget it.
Not too long after, Jesus is standing before the Roman governor, Pilate. "Are you the King of the Jews?" he asks.
Jesus replies, "You say so." When the chief priests and elders enter their accusation against him, he says not a word.
"Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?" asks the incredulous governor.
"But he gave him no answer," Matthew explains, "not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed" (Matthew 27:11-14).
As for Peter -- who had stood there on the Mount of Transfiguration, who had seen the glowing garments and had witnessed the spiritual summit meeting -- when some street ruffians ask him if he knows Jesus, he says no. Three times he denies it. Peter simply cannot find it within himself to say yes.
How is it that a man who's witnessed firsthand the wondrous power of the transfiguration can't save himself from fear? Why is it that, after the revelation on the mountain, God still allows the whole gruesome story to play itself out? Isn't the disclosure of Jesus as God's beloved Son enough to satisfy the most skeptical mind?
These are questions whose answers we may never know. The simple truth is, we need more than just a theological understanding of who Jesus is if we are to gain power for living. We need to enter into relationship with him, participate in that great drama of cross and resurrection, and come to know, deep inside, that the whole passion play is for us. We need to feel that when Jesus spreads out his arms and dies, those outstretched arms form the most dear and tender embrace, enfolding us in forgiving love.
CRAFTING THE SERMON
Transfiguration is a hard Sunday on which to preach. First of all, the scriptural material -- laced with mysticism as it is -- strikes modern listeners as inscrutable, even strange. Second, the synoptic gospel accounts of this incident are nearly identical, which means the lectionary presents us with virtually the same text, year after year. How are we to preach on this passage, when the best minds in biblical scholarship can only gaze in awe and wonder at the happenings on the mountaintop, confessing that they, too, have trouble puzzling out their meaning?
This year, the newspaper offers us a convenient point of entry, in the recent story of the death of the mountaineer, Sir Edmund Hillary.
Hillary is a figure who captured the world's imagination from the very day in 1953 that he ascended the summit of Everest, in the company of his Sherpa companion, Tenzing Norgay. Most people are inclined to imagine Hillary and Norgay ascending the summit as a lonely duo, but in fact that was anything but the case. The first ascent of Everest was more like a military campaign than a feat of individual courage. The New York Times account of his death recalls that the expedition included "a dozen climbers, 35 Sherpa guides, and 350 porters carrying 18 tons of food and equipment." Hillary very nearly didn't make it to the peak first. He and Norgay were actually the B Team. The honor was to have gone to two other climbers, Tom Bourdillon and Dr. Charles Evans, who made an attempt the day before, but who were turned back by bad weather just 315 feet from the top.
Click here for the article
The moment Hillary returned to civilization, he was lionized as a hero. He was instantly knighted by the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth II, and invested as a Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire -- a rare distinction for a New Zealander. Britain in 1953 was still reeling from the devastating effects of World War II, and the loss of much of its empire. Hillary and England's fetching young Queen became instant media figures, who together epitomized the best of their generation. The nations that comprised the British Commonwealth looked to them for inspiration. To the world at large, Hillary became a symbol of human aspiration.
Mountains affect us that way. The view from the mountaintop symbolizes for us not only a clarity of vision, but also hope for the future.
Hope is what Peter, James, and John perceive aplenty, on the slopes of the Mount of Transfiguration. Here they glimpse, if ever so briefly, the truth of who their Lord and Master truly is. It's almost too much for them to take in. It's very likely, in fact, that full understanding of the incident came to them only later, after Jesus' death and resurrection.
When it comes to any sort of religious experience, the full meaning of the incident often comes to us only in retrospect. The raw experience is what Rudolf Otto, in his landmark book, The Idea of the Holy, calls mysterium tremendum et fascinans -- tremendous and fascinating mystery.
Those of us who live in northern regions sometimes experience the meteorological reality known as an ice storm. The temperature is hovering around freezing: not quite cold enough for snow, and not quite warm enough for rain to keep from freezing. The precipitation that falls hits the slightly colder tree branches and the surface of roads, instantly transforming itself into a coating of ice.
Head out in your car on the morning after an ice storm, and you'll a vision of gleaming, shimmering crystal. Every part of every tree, every branch and twig, glows with the sun. You may find yourself wondering if the artists of Waterford crafted a huge, crystal sculpture of unbelievable intricacy, and placed it by the side of a public highway, for all to see.
The weather forecasters have a more prosaic explanation, the one about falling rain and freezing temperatures. Which explanation is true?
Those with a poet's soul will find the meteorological explanation less than adequate, thinking it displays a certain poverty of imagination. They will prefer the shimmering vision of a world transformed, that hints of heavenly glory.
Did Hillary fully understand what he was doing, that day he and Norgay stood on top of the world? Did he fully grasp the meaning of his newfound view from the mountaintop? Not likely. Yet, in time, he learned to live into the role the world thrust upon him, and he did so with considerable humility and grace. He came to be known as much for his humanitarian efforts to raise money to improve the lot of the Sherpa people, as he did for his ascent of the mountain.
Forever after, Edmund Hillary liked to describe himself as a simple beekeeper from New Zealand, who just happened to have climbed the world's highest mountain. He remained the person he had always been. Yet, the vision led him onward. So, too, with us, as we make the ascent to God.
Will we be blessed with a glowing vision? Who's to say? If nothing else, we can enjoy the view.
ANOTHER VIEW
Thom Shuman
A few hours after worship on this Sunday morning, a great number of people (some say over a billion), will suddenly become football (American style) fanatics as that annual "high holy day" called the Super Bowl is observed. Roving bands of pizza delivery guys and gals will race through the streets, movies will be popped into DVD players for the children (and spouses) who have no interest in this "religion," and those who normally speak in quiet tones will make themselves hoarse screaming at the television set. For the members of the winning team, and their supporters, it will truly be a mountaintop experience, the culmination of months of frantic striving, competition, and gamesmanship.
Two days later, another "super day" will be observed, as millions of Americans go to the polls in primaries throughout the country to vote for their choice of the person to be the presidential candidate for either the Democratic or Republican parties. Held this year (providentially?) on Shrove Tuesday, it will be the culmination of months (if not years) of frantic striving, competition, and gamesmanship. One person, in each party, will lead the parade that night with great celebrations, music, dancing, and gloating. The others might find themselves fasting from politics for quite a while.
The next day, in cathedrals and country churches, in storefronts and stone sanctuaries, a few brave souls (maybe several million) will gather to have ashes rubbed on their foreheads or the backs of their palms. They will speak of death, of dust, and of discipleship. They will reflect on the idea of choosing lives of humility, not hubris; of giving away "alms" to the poor, rather than accumulating more for themselves; of spending more time than normal in prayer, rather than at parties. Some will taste of the bread of life, and hunger for it to fill them in a way no Super Bowl party tray ever will; they will drink from the cup that makes a promise of grace and hope that no politician can ever make come true.
When the Super Bowl is over, we'll gather up the crusts of the pizza, the empty beverage cups, the stale popcorn and chips and put it out with the rest of the garbage. When Super Tuesday is over, we'll take the signs out to the landfill where they can reside with all the promises already broken by the candidates. But when Ash Wednesday is over, we will still be marked by the ashes of hope, with the taste of the kingdom tingling on our tongues, and our faces turned toward that valley called Jerusalem, where indeed all of God's promises come true.
ILLUSTRATIONS
Mountaintop Experiences -- everyone has them. Sometimes it is scoring the winning touchdown in the last seconds of a Super Bowl. Sometimes it is a mission trip. Sometime it is a tragic event like the death of a loved one or battling cancer or losing a job. Sometimes it is as public as being crowned homecoming queen or as private as struggling with depression. And sometimes it is as commonplace as getting married or having a child.
What is it? Mountaintop experiences. Each of us has these moments in our lives that we can point to as pivotal. They don't happen often but we sometimes have to return to them if only in our mind to relearn the lesson so we never forget.
When life gets hard, the cancer survivor remembers chemotherapy and shrugs, "Umph. That's nothing. I can do all things through God who strengthens me." When the marriage gets shaky, the groom remembers the vows he made on that day, "for better, for worse." When consumer envy almost eats you alive keeping up with the Joneses, you remember that Habitat for Humanity trip and think, "I have more than enough." When complaints get petty and the little things grow huge, the young widow remembers the day she buried her husband and her heart and thinks, "There are far bigger things to get upset about than a traffic jam or a cluttered house or a rude clerk." A couple of years ago was the 60th anniversary of the liberation from the Nazi concentration camps. The survivors returned, remembered the horrors and vowed, "Never again."
Mountaintop experiences happen rarely but they impact us forever.
* * *
Why Moses and Elijah? Of all the Old Testament heroes of the faith, why was it Moses and Elijah who appeared to Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration? Some scholars suggest that each one embodies the Old Testament: Moses for the Law and Elijah for the Prophets. But it goes beyond that. Both men encountered God up in the mountain -- Moses on Mount Sinai and the Ten Commandments and Elijah to Mount Horeb. Both were predicted to return before the Messiah. Deuteronomy 18:15 predicted that a prophet like Moses would come. Malachi 4:5 says that before the day of the Lord comes, Elijah will appear. Both had life changing events when God appeared to them. Moses stood before a burning bush. Elijah found God in a still small voice. Both had times in their lives in which they were filled with doubt and questions and God had to reassure them again and again -- Moses in the Wilderness, and Elijah when he felt that he was the only faithful believer left on the planet. But more importantly, both seemed to have escaped death. In the end of Deuteronomy, Moses just wander off into the mist on top of the mountain into the arms of God. God sent a chariot of fire down for Elijah to scoop him up right to heaven.
Now these two (Moses and Elijah) return to the One who finally does destroy the power of death not by bypassing it but by entering fully into it with obedience even unto death.
* * *
Keeping your focus There is a story told about the king of Norway who paid an unannounced visit to a small country church one Sunday morning. The pastor was so flustered by having the king present in his small church that he tossed aside his prepared sermon and launched into a lengthy speech, extolling the virtues of the good and gracious king.
As the king left, he thanked the pastor and told him that he would be receiving a gift from him. A couple of weeks later, the gift arrived in a large container. The pastor, extremely excited that the king had thought so highly of him to send a gift, ripped apart the wrapping. He opened the box to find a large statue of Jesus on the cross with a note attached, handwritten by the king, "Mount this statue in the rear of the church, opposite the pulpit so that when you preach, you will not lose focus on the proper subject." His point was made.
Jesus focused the disciples on what truly mattered. Of all the things the disciples would be asked to do, of all the places that they would be sent to proclaim, the Transfiguration would forever stand out in their minds so they would never lose focus on the proper subject.
* * *
Though it happens every year, I am still surprised by how exhausted I feel -- physically and emotionally -- the day after our Ash Wednesday service.
Part of it may have to do with the fact that the service itself is so different -- more somber, more silent, and more reflective than the usual Sunday morning service. It takes more effort to create a "mood" that seems so strange in our culture, even in church! After all, to speak the words, "You are dust and to dust you shall return" is an extremely radical statement in a world that worships youth, vitality, and doing everything we can do to put off death.
I also find it a very moving and draining experience to take the ashes and impose the sign of the cross upon the people who come forward for this ancient rite. Whether it is a member of my own family, a little child who probably never thinks of death, or the elderly person whose funeral I may be doing in the next few months, this very simple act changes our relationship as pastor and as parishioner. I see this in the tears that well up in their eyes, in the questions on their faces, and in the piercing of my heart.
Because we have these emotions, these questions, these hearts, we conclude the service with the Lord's Supper. We do it, yes, because our tradition "allows" it to take place. However, we do it even more so because we know that as we follow Jesus during these days of Lent and beyond, we know that, like him, we are walking toward our death and so we need the nourishment of that Bread that will strengthen us in the days to come. We do it because we need that cup of grace to fill us when the temptations of the world empty our souls.
We also do it because the table is that visible reminder that when we do return to dust, we will not be swept out the door, but will be welcomed into God's embracing love.
* * *
"Some years ago, the Washington Post carried the story of a stockbroker, Alan Marks, who was given only months to live after a diagnosis of cancer. Marks said, 'It's so strange when we become aware that we're talking about a very short period of time together, how the extraordinary becomes ordinary and vice versa. A good meal, or a long walk, has never meant so much before.'
"His reaction should be the reaction of every Christian in light of Ash Wednesday. The inevitability of death should make life on this side more precious, more joyful. We should find ordinary experiences of every day a new delight, and see them for what God means them to be: so many signs of grace... Everything we have taken for granted assumes a new meaning."
-- Author unknown
* * *
yesterday,
i stuffed myself
on pancakes and pleasure,
on chocolate and self-indulgence;
now,
empty me
of all those delicious desires
which make my life (and soul)
so heavy;
yesterday,
i put on that funny face
i call "me"
and danced through the streets
of temptation and selfishness;
now,
draw me
into those quiet places
where you can reshape me
as your child;
yesterday,
i wore a costume
bejeweled with pride's glitter,
and rainbowed with my silly sins;
now,
clothe me
in prayer
and smudge my face
with your heart's tears;
yesterday,
i chased after the world
into death;
now,
lead me into life
this Lent.
-- Thom Shuman
* * *
When Greg Mortenson set out to climb K2, one of the world's highest mountains, in 1993, he didn't know he would become lost from his porter and his group and would have to wander, without food or shelter, for several days until he came upon a remote mountain village.
So ill that he could go no farther, he was lovingly cared for by the villagers as if he were one of their own people.
When he finally regained his strength after many weeks and was ready to head home to America, he promised the people of the little isolated, impoverished village that he'd come back and build them a school -- which he did.
In the ten years after that, he built more than 55 schools in that area, the mountains of Pakistan and Afghanistan that gave birth to the Taliban (see his book, Three Cups of Tea).
The mountains in our lives can be places where we gain a new vision of what our Lord is calling us to do. We then need to go down into the valley and get to work.
* * *
Just as going out into the wilderness for forty days prepared Jesus to begin his ministry, so going up onto the Mount of Transfiguration prepared him to conclude his ministry by setting his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51) and all that awaited him there.
As we begin Lent this Wednesday with our Ash Wednesday service, we need to remember that we each have our own, God-given ministry -- at home, at work, at school, or wherever we go. This certainly will include praying for those around us and showing them the kind of concern and care that our Lord has for us and for them.
We don't need to preach to them, but rather to reach out to them with our Lord's caring.
* * *
What if Jesus, after seeing Moses and Elijah there on the Mount of Transfiguration, had gone straight up to heaven with them, ending his time on earth right there?
He'd already spent three years going about the countryside, preaching and teaching and healing. Wasn't that enough? Hadn't he done enough for us? Oswald Chambers says:
If Jesus had gone to heaven from the Mount of Transfiguration, He would have gone alone; He would have been nothing more to us than a glorious Figure. But he turned his back on the glory, and came down from the Mount to identify Himself with fallen humanity.
Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, p. 138
* * *
Matthew tells us that after Peter, James, and John saw Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus there on the Mount of Transfiguration, and they heard the voice of God saying, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" they fell to the ground, overcome by fear -- as any of us would.
However, Jesus came and touched them and said, "Get up, and don't be afraid." When they looked up, they saw no one but Jesus.
Isn't that what you and I need, to see no one but Jesus? There are so many things around us, competing for our attention. It's all too easy for us to get completely wrapped up in our work, in our school, in our home and family, in our sports and other interests.
We, too, need to look up, regularly, many times each day, and see no one but Jesus.
WORSHIP RESOURCE
Call to Worship
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, we come
to listen to what God has to say to us.
People: God has invited us to this place;
may our faces reflect our hopes and fears.
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, people of
the new covenant of hope and promise.
People: We boldly enter into the presence of God,
hoping to be transformed into new people.
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, our fears
melting away in the heart of God.
People: We come to share in the freedom of the Spirit,
we come to praise God's holy name.
Prayer of the Day
Majestic Glory,
Heart of God:
on mountaintops crowned with mist
and in museums filled with wonder;
in tents pitched by singing brooks
and in theaters filled with laughing children;
in this sacred place
and in all the ordinary
neighborhoods where we live --
you are with us,
hearing us,
answering us,
and we do not lose heart.
Holy Beloved,
Face of God:
we glance at you
out of the corners of our souls
and see grace surrounding us;
we look at you conversing
with the poor and rejected,
and see our families;
we watch as you come to us,
to touch us, to heal us,
and to give us back to God --
and we do not lose heart.
Holy Spirit,
Ear of God:
when our lips
cannot shape words
you speak them for us;
when we can only
sigh our needs,
you gather them up
and offer them to God;
when our hopes
are dashed to the ground,
you pick them up
and give them back to us --
and we do not lose heart.
God in Community, Holy in One,
we lift our voices and hearts to you,
praying as Jesus taught us, saying,
Our Father...
Call to Reconciliation
Sometimes it seems that we wait for God
to astound us with mighty wonders, while
God knows that what we need is simple
grace. God waits to forgive us, so let us hold
nothing back, but trust in the One who listens
to our prayers and answers us with mercy.
Unison Prayer of Confession
God of Mountaintops, the din of the world
can harden our hearts to your word. We
watch news, reality television, silly sitcoms,
and we have trouble bearing witness to your
presence in our lives. Our faith is placed in
those who fail us; our trust is given to those
who misplace it.
Forgive us, Revealer of Mystery. You
offer mercy to us, that we might hear your
call to discipleship. You whisper our names,
that we might know how loved we are.
Caught by the surprise of your never-ending
love for us, how can we not follow our
Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, onto the
mountaintops of worship and into the
valleys of sacrifice and service?
(silence is kept)
Assurance of Pardon
Leader: On mountaintops and in the valleys,
in our homes and in our hearts, God
knows us better than we know ourselves,
and God forgives us when we cannot
forgive ourselves.
People: By God's mercy, we are forgiven.
By God's mercy, we are made whole.
By God's mercy, we are equipped to serve others.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
CHILDREN'S SERMON
Transfigured
Object: an optical illusion -- such as the face of Jesus in a background that cannot be seen unless you concentrate on the face or another optical illusion that you have available
Matthew 17:1-9
And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. (v. 2)
Good morning, boys and girls. Today is the Transfiguration of our Lord and it is one of the special days of the church year. Today we talk about Jesus changing in several ways while three of his disciples -- Peter, James, and John -- watched. How did he change? The Bible says that the face of Jesus became as bright as the sun and his clothes became gleaming white. There were other things that happened that the disciples remembered and we will talk about them, also.
Have you ever seen an optical illusion? (let them answer) An optical illusion is when you are looking at one thing and all of a sudden you see something else. I brought an optical illusion for you to see. You must concentrate very hard and not take your eyes off it. Keep staring, don't blink and think very hard about what you are seeing. As soon as you see it change, raise your hand but don't say anything because other people are still looking very closely. (after several have seen it, tell the other children where to look and what they should see if they look very carefully) Isn't that amazing? Right in front of you it changed and you were all looking at the same thing. We call this an optical illusion.
Jesus took three of his disciples up a mountain and soon after they got there, things began to change. The disciples said that the face of Jesus became as bright as the sun. That is very bright. We should never look at the sun unless we wear special sunglasses because it could hurt our eyes. I also told you that the disciples reported that Jesus' clothes were dazzling white. That is also very bright. "Dazzle" means to really stand out.
There was more. While they were watching Jesus, two men appeared. The two men were Moses and Elijah and they were talking with Jesus. While they were talking, a large cloud came very close to them because they were at the top of the mountain. The cloud seemed to just float over them and then a voice came from the cloud. "This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" The voice was so big and so close that Peter, James, and John fell to the ground and covered their heads with their arms and hands. They had heard the voice of God. When they looked up, Elijah and Moses had left. When they looked around, the cloud was gone and only Jesus remained with them. It was a day they would never forget for the rest of their lives. The next time you see an optical illusion, I hope you will remember the day Jesus was transfigured on the top of a mountain. Amen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, February 3, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to The Immediate Word service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons and in worship and classroom settings only. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
The View From The Mountaintop
Carlos Wilton
Matthew 17:1-9
THE WORLD
The mountains call out to us. They call us first to "lift up our eyes to the hills," then to ascend, and finally to stand upon the summit, taking in the breathtaking scenery all around. From time immemorial, mountains have stood as a metaphor for human aspiration.
To Sir Edmund Hillary, mountains were more than a metaphor. Since his death on January 11th at the age of 88, the world has remembered this adventurer who, in 1953 -- along with his Sherpa guide, Tenzing Norgay -- was the first to stand atop the summit of Everest, the world's highest peak.
Jesus, too, once climbed a mountain, as we read in Matthew 17:1-9. We don't know why he did it, exactly, but we do know what happened there. He was glorified. His appearance changed, and his clothing became dazzling white. His few companions of the moment were blessed with an unforgettable vision not only of who he is, but also of how God can transform the ordinary into the numinous, the holy.
Is that not what we are seeking, as we come to worship? Are we, too, not ascending a mountain, looking to be in some way transformed?
THE WORD
Nearly 2,000 years ago, four men hiked up the side of a mountain in Israel. What they saw there is still being told today. Peter, James, and John follow Jesus up the steep mountain trail, until their knees ache and their backs hurt and their breaths come in short gasps. As they reach the summit, they pause to fill their lungs with air, and gaze around at the awesome vista that surrounds them on four sides -- and then they see something else. Suddenly, their Lord is "transfigured" before them. The word Matthew uses is metamorphosis: total change. The face of their beloved teacher shines like the sun, and his garments have become dazzling white.
Beside him appear two visitors. They are none other than Moses and Elijah, the greatest prophets of Israel. A bright cloud overshadows all three of them. It is the shekinah of the book of Exodus, the same glowing cloud that Moses entered on Mount Sinai long ago. From out of this cloud there thunders a voice: "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" To the readers of Matthew's gospel, it calls to mind his baptism, when the Lord spoke similar words from out of heaven.
It is a vision of power, and surely an impressive experience for those disciples -- yet, not so impressive that they don't soon forget it.
Not too long after, Jesus is standing before the Roman governor, Pilate. "Are you the King of the Jews?" he asks.
Jesus replies, "You say so." When the chief priests and elders enter their accusation against him, he says not a word.
"Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?" asks the incredulous governor.
"But he gave him no answer," Matthew explains, "not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed" (Matthew 27:11-14).
As for Peter -- who had stood there on the Mount of Transfiguration, who had seen the glowing garments and had witnessed the spiritual summit meeting -- when some street ruffians ask him if he knows Jesus, he says no. Three times he denies it. Peter simply cannot find it within himself to say yes.
How is it that a man who's witnessed firsthand the wondrous power of the transfiguration can't save himself from fear? Why is it that, after the revelation on the mountain, God still allows the whole gruesome story to play itself out? Isn't the disclosure of Jesus as God's beloved Son enough to satisfy the most skeptical mind?
These are questions whose answers we may never know. The simple truth is, we need more than just a theological understanding of who Jesus is if we are to gain power for living. We need to enter into relationship with him, participate in that great drama of cross and resurrection, and come to know, deep inside, that the whole passion play is for us. We need to feel that when Jesus spreads out his arms and dies, those outstretched arms form the most dear and tender embrace, enfolding us in forgiving love.
CRAFTING THE SERMON
Transfiguration is a hard Sunday on which to preach. First of all, the scriptural material -- laced with mysticism as it is -- strikes modern listeners as inscrutable, even strange. Second, the synoptic gospel accounts of this incident are nearly identical, which means the lectionary presents us with virtually the same text, year after year. How are we to preach on this passage, when the best minds in biblical scholarship can only gaze in awe and wonder at the happenings on the mountaintop, confessing that they, too, have trouble puzzling out their meaning?
This year, the newspaper offers us a convenient point of entry, in the recent story of the death of the mountaineer, Sir Edmund Hillary.
Hillary is a figure who captured the world's imagination from the very day in 1953 that he ascended the summit of Everest, in the company of his Sherpa companion, Tenzing Norgay. Most people are inclined to imagine Hillary and Norgay ascending the summit as a lonely duo, but in fact that was anything but the case. The first ascent of Everest was more like a military campaign than a feat of individual courage. The New York Times account of his death recalls that the expedition included "a dozen climbers, 35 Sherpa guides, and 350 porters carrying 18 tons of food and equipment." Hillary very nearly didn't make it to the peak first. He and Norgay were actually the B Team. The honor was to have gone to two other climbers, Tom Bourdillon and Dr. Charles Evans, who made an attempt the day before, but who were turned back by bad weather just 315 feet from the top.
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The moment Hillary returned to civilization, he was lionized as a hero. He was instantly knighted by the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth II, and invested as a Knight Commander of the Order of the British Empire -- a rare distinction for a New Zealander. Britain in 1953 was still reeling from the devastating effects of World War II, and the loss of much of its empire. Hillary and England's fetching young Queen became instant media figures, who together epitomized the best of their generation. The nations that comprised the British Commonwealth looked to them for inspiration. To the world at large, Hillary became a symbol of human aspiration.
Mountains affect us that way. The view from the mountaintop symbolizes for us not only a clarity of vision, but also hope for the future.
Hope is what Peter, James, and John perceive aplenty, on the slopes of the Mount of Transfiguration. Here they glimpse, if ever so briefly, the truth of who their Lord and Master truly is. It's almost too much for them to take in. It's very likely, in fact, that full understanding of the incident came to them only later, after Jesus' death and resurrection.
When it comes to any sort of religious experience, the full meaning of the incident often comes to us only in retrospect. The raw experience is what Rudolf Otto, in his landmark book, The Idea of the Holy, calls mysterium tremendum et fascinans -- tremendous and fascinating mystery.
Those of us who live in northern regions sometimes experience the meteorological reality known as an ice storm. The temperature is hovering around freezing: not quite cold enough for snow, and not quite warm enough for rain to keep from freezing. The precipitation that falls hits the slightly colder tree branches and the surface of roads, instantly transforming itself into a coating of ice.
Head out in your car on the morning after an ice storm, and you'll a vision of gleaming, shimmering crystal. Every part of every tree, every branch and twig, glows with the sun. You may find yourself wondering if the artists of Waterford crafted a huge, crystal sculpture of unbelievable intricacy, and placed it by the side of a public highway, for all to see.
The weather forecasters have a more prosaic explanation, the one about falling rain and freezing temperatures. Which explanation is true?
Those with a poet's soul will find the meteorological explanation less than adequate, thinking it displays a certain poverty of imagination. They will prefer the shimmering vision of a world transformed, that hints of heavenly glory.
Did Hillary fully understand what he was doing, that day he and Norgay stood on top of the world? Did he fully grasp the meaning of his newfound view from the mountaintop? Not likely. Yet, in time, he learned to live into the role the world thrust upon him, and he did so with considerable humility and grace. He came to be known as much for his humanitarian efforts to raise money to improve the lot of the Sherpa people, as he did for his ascent of the mountain.
Forever after, Edmund Hillary liked to describe himself as a simple beekeeper from New Zealand, who just happened to have climbed the world's highest mountain. He remained the person he had always been. Yet, the vision led him onward. So, too, with us, as we make the ascent to God.
Will we be blessed with a glowing vision? Who's to say? If nothing else, we can enjoy the view.
ANOTHER VIEW
Thom Shuman
A few hours after worship on this Sunday morning, a great number of people (some say over a billion), will suddenly become football (American style) fanatics as that annual "high holy day" called the Super Bowl is observed. Roving bands of pizza delivery guys and gals will race through the streets, movies will be popped into DVD players for the children (and spouses) who have no interest in this "religion," and those who normally speak in quiet tones will make themselves hoarse screaming at the television set. For the members of the winning team, and their supporters, it will truly be a mountaintop experience, the culmination of months of frantic striving, competition, and gamesmanship.
Two days later, another "super day" will be observed, as millions of Americans go to the polls in primaries throughout the country to vote for their choice of the person to be the presidential candidate for either the Democratic or Republican parties. Held this year (providentially?) on Shrove Tuesday, it will be the culmination of months (if not years) of frantic striving, competition, and gamesmanship. One person, in each party, will lead the parade that night with great celebrations, music, dancing, and gloating. The others might find themselves fasting from politics for quite a while.
The next day, in cathedrals and country churches, in storefronts and stone sanctuaries, a few brave souls (maybe several million) will gather to have ashes rubbed on their foreheads or the backs of their palms. They will speak of death, of dust, and of discipleship. They will reflect on the idea of choosing lives of humility, not hubris; of giving away "alms" to the poor, rather than accumulating more for themselves; of spending more time than normal in prayer, rather than at parties. Some will taste of the bread of life, and hunger for it to fill them in a way no Super Bowl party tray ever will; they will drink from the cup that makes a promise of grace and hope that no politician can ever make come true.
When the Super Bowl is over, we'll gather up the crusts of the pizza, the empty beverage cups, the stale popcorn and chips and put it out with the rest of the garbage. When Super Tuesday is over, we'll take the signs out to the landfill where they can reside with all the promises already broken by the candidates. But when Ash Wednesday is over, we will still be marked by the ashes of hope, with the taste of the kingdom tingling on our tongues, and our faces turned toward that valley called Jerusalem, where indeed all of God's promises come true.
ILLUSTRATIONS
Mountaintop Experiences -- everyone has them. Sometimes it is scoring the winning touchdown in the last seconds of a Super Bowl. Sometimes it is a mission trip. Sometime it is a tragic event like the death of a loved one or battling cancer or losing a job. Sometimes it is as public as being crowned homecoming queen or as private as struggling with depression. And sometimes it is as commonplace as getting married or having a child.
What is it? Mountaintop experiences. Each of us has these moments in our lives that we can point to as pivotal. They don't happen often but we sometimes have to return to them if only in our mind to relearn the lesson so we never forget.
When life gets hard, the cancer survivor remembers chemotherapy and shrugs, "Umph. That's nothing. I can do all things through God who strengthens me." When the marriage gets shaky, the groom remembers the vows he made on that day, "for better, for worse." When consumer envy almost eats you alive keeping up with the Joneses, you remember that Habitat for Humanity trip and think, "I have more than enough." When complaints get petty and the little things grow huge, the young widow remembers the day she buried her husband and her heart and thinks, "There are far bigger things to get upset about than a traffic jam or a cluttered house or a rude clerk." A couple of years ago was the 60th anniversary of the liberation from the Nazi concentration camps. The survivors returned, remembered the horrors and vowed, "Never again."
Mountaintop experiences happen rarely but they impact us forever.
* * *
Why Moses and Elijah? Of all the Old Testament heroes of the faith, why was it Moses and Elijah who appeared to Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration? Some scholars suggest that each one embodies the Old Testament: Moses for the Law and Elijah for the Prophets. But it goes beyond that. Both men encountered God up in the mountain -- Moses on Mount Sinai and the Ten Commandments and Elijah to Mount Horeb. Both were predicted to return before the Messiah. Deuteronomy 18:15 predicted that a prophet like Moses would come. Malachi 4:5 says that before the day of the Lord comes, Elijah will appear. Both had life changing events when God appeared to them. Moses stood before a burning bush. Elijah found God in a still small voice. Both had times in their lives in which they were filled with doubt and questions and God had to reassure them again and again -- Moses in the Wilderness, and Elijah when he felt that he was the only faithful believer left on the planet. But more importantly, both seemed to have escaped death. In the end of Deuteronomy, Moses just wander off into the mist on top of the mountain into the arms of God. God sent a chariot of fire down for Elijah to scoop him up right to heaven.
Now these two (Moses and Elijah) return to the One who finally does destroy the power of death not by bypassing it but by entering fully into it with obedience even unto death.
* * *
Keeping your focus There is a story told about the king of Norway who paid an unannounced visit to a small country church one Sunday morning. The pastor was so flustered by having the king present in his small church that he tossed aside his prepared sermon and launched into a lengthy speech, extolling the virtues of the good and gracious king.
As the king left, he thanked the pastor and told him that he would be receiving a gift from him. A couple of weeks later, the gift arrived in a large container. The pastor, extremely excited that the king had thought so highly of him to send a gift, ripped apart the wrapping. He opened the box to find a large statue of Jesus on the cross with a note attached, handwritten by the king, "Mount this statue in the rear of the church, opposite the pulpit so that when you preach, you will not lose focus on the proper subject." His point was made.
Jesus focused the disciples on what truly mattered. Of all the things the disciples would be asked to do, of all the places that they would be sent to proclaim, the Transfiguration would forever stand out in their minds so they would never lose focus on the proper subject.
* * *
Though it happens every year, I am still surprised by how exhausted I feel -- physically and emotionally -- the day after our Ash Wednesday service.
Part of it may have to do with the fact that the service itself is so different -- more somber, more silent, and more reflective than the usual Sunday morning service. It takes more effort to create a "mood" that seems so strange in our culture, even in church! After all, to speak the words, "You are dust and to dust you shall return" is an extremely radical statement in a world that worships youth, vitality, and doing everything we can do to put off death.
I also find it a very moving and draining experience to take the ashes and impose the sign of the cross upon the people who come forward for this ancient rite. Whether it is a member of my own family, a little child who probably never thinks of death, or the elderly person whose funeral I may be doing in the next few months, this very simple act changes our relationship as pastor and as parishioner. I see this in the tears that well up in their eyes, in the questions on their faces, and in the piercing of my heart.
Because we have these emotions, these questions, these hearts, we conclude the service with the Lord's Supper. We do it, yes, because our tradition "allows" it to take place. However, we do it even more so because we know that as we follow Jesus during these days of Lent and beyond, we know that, like him, we are walking toward our death and so we need the nourishment of that Bread that will strengthen us in the days to come. We do it because we need that cup of grace to fill us when the temptations of the world empty our souls.
We also do it because the table is that visible reminder that when we do return to dust, we will not be swept out the door, but will be welcomed into God's embracing love.
* * *
"Some years ago, the Washington Post carried the story of a stockbroker, Alan Marks, who was given only months to live after a diagnosis of cancer. Marks said, 'It's so strange when we become aware that we're talking about a very short period of time together, how the extraordinary becomes ordinary and vice versa. A good meal, or a long walk, has never meant so much before.'
"His reaction should be the reaction of every Christian in light of Ash Wednesday. The inevitability of death should make life on this side more precious, more joyful. We should find ordinary experiences of every day a new delight, and see them for what God means them to be: so many signs of grace... Everything we have taken for granted assumes a new meaning."
-- Author unknown
* * *
yesterday,
i stuffed myself
on pancakes and pleasure,
on chocolate and self-indulgence;
now,
empty me
of all those delicious desires
which make my life (and soul)
so heavy;
yesterday,
i put on that funny face
i call "me"
and danced through the streets
of temptation and selfishness;
now,
draw me
into those quiet places
where you can reshape me
as your child;
yesterday,
i wore a costume
bejeweled with pride's glitter,
and rainbowed with my silly sins;
now,
clothe me
in prayer
and smudge my face
with your heart's tears;
yesterday,
i chased after the world
into death;
now,
lead me into life
this Lent.
-- Thom Shuman
* * *
When Greg Mortenson set out to climb K2, one of the world's highest mountains, in 1993, he didn't know he would become lost from his porter and his group and would have to wander, without food or shelter, for several days until he came upon a remote mountain village.
So ill that he could go no farther, he was lovingly cared for by the villagers as if he were one of their own people.
When he finally regained his strength after many weeks and was ready to head home to America, he promised the people of the little isolated, impoverished village that he'd come back and build them a school -- which he did.
In the ten years after that, he built more than 55 schools in that area, the mountains of Pakistan and Afghanistan that gave birth to the Taliban (see his book, Three Cups of Tea).
The mountains in our lives can be places where we gain a new vision of what our Lord is calling us to do. We then need to go down into the valley and get to work.
* * *
Just as going out into the wilderness for forty days prepared Jesus to begin his ministry, so going up onto the Mount of Transfiguration prepared him to conclude his ministry by setting his face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51) and all that awaited him there.
As we begin Lent this Wednesday with our Ash Wednesday service, we need to remember that we each have our own, God-given ministry -- at home, at work, at school, or wherever we go. This certainly will include praying for those around us and showing them the kind of concern and care that our Lord has for us and for them.
We don't need to preach to them, but rather to reach out to them with our Lord's caring.
* * *
What if Jesus, after seeing Moses and Elijah there on the Mount of Transfiguration, had gone straight up to heaven with them, ending his time on earth right there?
He'd already spent three years going about the countryside, preaching and teaching and healing. Wasn't that enough? Hadn't he done enough for us? Oswald Chambers says:
If Jesus had gone to heaven from the Mount of Transfiguration, He would have gone alone; He would have been nothing more to us than a glorious Figure. But he turned his back on the glory, and came down from the Mount to identify Himself with fallen humanity.
Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, p. 138
* * *
Matthew tells us that after Peter, James, and John saw Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus there on the Mount of Transfiguration, and they heard the voice of God saying, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" they fell to the ground, overcome by fear -- as any of us would.
However, Jesus came and touched them and said, "Get up, and don't be afraid." When they looked up, they saw no one but Jesus.
Isn't that what you and I need, to see no one but Jesus? There are so many things around us, competing for our attention. It's all too easy for us to get completely wrapped up in our work, in our school, in our home and family, in our sports and other interests.
We, too, need to look up, regularly, many times each day, and see no one but Jesus.
WORSHIP RESOURCE
Call to Worship
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, we come
to listen to what God has to say to us.
People: God has invited us to this place;
may our faces reflect our hopes and fears.
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, people of
the new covenant of hope and promise.
People: We boldly enter into the presence of God,
hoping to be transformed into new people.
Leader: We gather as the faithful of God, our fears
melting away in the heart of God.
People: We come to share in the freedom of the Spirit,
we come to praise God's holy name.
Prayer of the Day
Majestic Glory,
Heart of God:
on mountaintops crowned with mist
and in museums filled with wonder;
in tents pitched by singing brooks
and in theaters filled with laughing children;
in this sacred place
and in all the ordinary
neighborhoods where we live --
you are with us,
hearing us,
answering us,
and we do not lose heart.
Holy Beloved,
Face of God:
we glance at you
out of the corners of our souls
and see grace surrounding us;
we look at you conversing
with the poor and rejected,
and see our families;
we watch as you come to us,
to touch us, to heal us,
and to give us back to God --
and we do not lose heart.
Holy Spirit,
Ear of God:
when our lips
cannot shape words
you speak them for us;
when we can only
sigh our needs,
you gather them up
and offer them to God;
when our hopes
are dashed to the ground,
you pick them up
and give them back to us --
and we do not lose heart.
God in Community, Holy in One,
we lift our voices and hearts to you,
praying as Jesus taught us, saying,
Our Father...
Call to Reconciliation
Sometimes it seems that we wait for God
to astound us with mighty wonders, while
God knows that what we need is simple
grace. God waits to forgive us, so let us hold
nothing back, but trust in the One who listens
to our prayers and answers us with mercy.
Unison Prayer of Confession
God of Mountaintops, the din of the world
can harden our hearts to your word. We
watch news, reality television, silly sitcoms,
and we have trouble bearing witness to your
presence in our lives. Our faith is placed in
those who fail us; our trust is given to those
who misplace it.
Forgive us, Revealer of Mystery. You
offer mercy to us, that we might hear your
call to discipleship. You whisper our names,
that we might know how loved we are.
Caught by the surprise of your never-ending
love for us, how can we not follow our
Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, onto the
mountaintops of worship and into the
valleys of sacrifice and service?
(silence is kept)
Assurance of Pardon
Leader: On mountaintops and in the valleys,
in our homes and in our hearts, God
knows us better than we know ourselves,
and God forgives us when we cannot
forgive ourselves.
People: By God's mercy, we are forgiven.
By God's mercy, we are made whole.
By God's mercy, we are equipped to serve others.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
CHILDREN'S SERMON
Transfigured
Object: an optical illusion -- such as the face of Jesus in a background that cannot be seen unless you concentrate on the face or another optical illusion that you have available
Matthew 17:1-9
And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. (v. 2)
Good morning, boys and girls. Today is the Transfiguration of our Lord and it is one of the special days of the church year. Today we talk about Jesus changing in several ways while three of his disciples -- Peter, James, and John -- watched. How did he change? The Bible says that the face of Jesus became as bright as the sun and his clothes became gleaming white. There were other things that happened that the disciples remembered and we will talk about them, also.
Have you ever seen an optical illusion? (let them answer) An optical illusion is when you are looking at one thing and all of a sudden you see something else. I brought an optical illusion for you to see. You must concentrate very hard and not take your eyes off it. Keep staring, don't blink and think very hard about what you are seeing. As soon as you see it change, raise your hand but don't say anything because other people are still looking very closely. (after several have seen it, tell the other children where to look and what they should see if they look very carefully) Isn't that amazing? Right in front of you it changed and you were all looking at the same thing. We call this an optical illusion.
Jesus took three of his disciples up a mountain and soon after they got there, things began to change. The disciples said that the face of Jesus became as bright as the sun. That is very bright. We should never look at the sun unless we wear special sunglasses because it could hurt our eyes. I also told you that the disciples reported that Jesus' clothes were dazzling white. That is also very bright. "Dazzle" means to really stand out.
There was more. While they were watching Jesus, two men appeared. The two men were Moses and Elijah and they were talking with Jesus. While they were talking, a large cloud came very close to them because they were at the top of the mountain. The cloud seemed to just float over them and then a voice came from the cloud. "This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" The voice was so big and so close that Peter, James, and John fell to the ground and covered their heads with their arms and hands. They had heard the voice of God. When they looked up, Elijah and Moses had left. When they looked around, the cloud was gone and only Jesus remained with them. It was a day they would never forget for the rest of their lives. The next time you see an optical illusion, I hope you will remember the day Jesus was transfigured on the top of a mountain. Amen.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Immediate Word, February 3, 2008, issue.
Copyright 2008 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
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