The Transfiguration of Jesus
by Rev. Dr John Evans
Matthew 17:1-9
In January 2006 the Evans family celebrated a variety of birthdays and anniversaries by all going to Egypt. We had a great time. On our trip we climbed Mt Sinai to witness the sunrise. We arrived in the township of St Catherine’s the previous evening, and then were summoned to be at the monastery, at the foot of the mountain, for a 3:30am start to the ascent. Some went by camel; we walked with a Bedouin guide. After many thousands of years it is a well worn path – but still very step in places. We reached the summit, just on 6am and were able to watch the sunrise – with about 100 others who obviously had came from all over the world. Needless to say it was a great, indeed exhilarating experience. Just to prove I was there I brought back these two small stone tablets from the top!
Here we were on the Holy Mountain of scripture – as we heard from Exodus where Moses encountered God and received the Ten Commandments. Elijah went there, and the allusions to this place in the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus, are also very powerful. This was a special place. It still is a special place. It didn’t take nearly as long to go down the mountain as it had climbing up. However, when we got to the bottom I was excited – jumping out of my skin. I had to tell someone – so I rang my secretary back in Perth. Here I am at the foot of Mt Sinai, on a mobile phone, saying to Ruth – guess what – we just have climbed Mount Sinai. She was suitably unimpressed, oh yeah, come off the grass; but then only as can happen in office emails – there arose all these jokes about the General Secretary coming off the mountain – did he have the eleventh commandment; what was now the latest instruction?
A mountain top experience – we have all had them; and I want to suggest today not necessarily on top of a mountain – though for the bushwalkers among you, often they are!
Jesus took Peter James and John to this high mountain – and they also had a mountain top experience. They had this moment of blinding insight, or perhaps profound confirmation – that Jesus was the Christ; they experienced the divine presence of God – as it is said in Hebrew, shekinah. Through visions, voices, blinding light and a cloud – all reminiscent of what Moses experienced on Mt Sinai - these disciples came to understand that this Jesus, this Jesus of Nazareth with whom they had been spending their time following, was no ordinary itinerant preacher, or wonder worker or teacher – he was up there with the greatest – Moses, Elijah – and as the voice from heaven seemed to be saying – this is was in fact God’s beloved Son: listen to him. He was the Son of God – the Christ.
Moments of insight however, come in all shapes and forms.
I remember a significant moment of insight in my own life. It came one Saturday morning while working in the back yard. Jean and I had just been married. We were living in Canberra at the time. Indeed a couple of weeks ago we were in Canberra and we saw the house and the backyard, and I recalled this story. The yard of this house we had was a mess, we needed some sort of shed. There was this half completed Tardis like structure in the middle of the yard – so the plan was that we complete that; put some walls on it and a door and we would have a shed. My parents were visiting at the time. So my father and I set off that morning to build this shed – every man needs a shed you know. Now, as I look back I was quite young. Up until then, if there was a similar project at my parent’s place – I would be the labourer, and I would be working to my father’s particular plan. So out we went to the yard – and I was asked by my father for the orders, how to cut the wood, I was asked for all of the instructions. I was to show the leadership, he was clearly to be just the labourer.
I had this blinding flash – things were now different. I was not on a mountain top, no heavenly voice, no cloud, but that morning came a great understanding as to who I was. I was accepted by my father as a partner in this task – I saw my relationship with my family more clearly, with Jean. I was not just someone else’s child. All because I had to issue orders with regard to the building of a garden shed. If you want to take the transfiguration analogy a little further – the people involved – my father, myself, others in the family, were still the same – but we had been transformed into having a different relationship, a different understanding of who we were . . . no longer just father and son, but partners in life. And we had to get on with life, there was after all a shed to build.
In the transfiguration story, something similar happened for the disciples. The voices, the vision, the bright light - the insight into who Jesus was – was a moment of blinding insight; one of awe, one in which scripture records, they fell down afraid.
However, verse 7 says
Jesus came and touched them, saying “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up they saw no one except Jesus. . . They saw no one except Jesus.
Life was back to normal, and they had to get on with living it – off the mountain. The high, the intense spiritual moment – does not remain. But their relationship with Jesus was forever changed.
Indeed this difficult story for our modern scientific mind is interesting in that it points to a pattern, at least teaching about our profoundly spiritual moments.
As I have suggested our mountain top experiences need not necessarily be spectacular, all singing and dancing, bells and whistles, as happened on that occasion – they can arise out of the ordinary and mundane. God – in God’s own time will address you: and you may experience shekinah – the divine presence; a deep spiritual intensity; of being strangely warmed, whatever. The story of the transfiguration however, points to other aspects of our encounters with God.
First of all the disciples experienced a sense of awe; of fear or falling on one’s face in the presence of God. This was a holy moment – an encounter with the other. They were moved. I think within our tradition, and with our Australian heritage, we perhaps get a little afraid of feelings, – we all are very cerebral, intellectual and quickly can dismiss such a response as being emotional – or too emotional. But there are times when there is a tear to the eye, a tingle on the arms, the hairs stand on the back of your neck, you experience a profound sense of peace, of release – as if the burden has been lifted and life can continue again. True, we can be too emotional – but an encounter with the divine, is something that is out of the ordinary. It is however, also true, there can be difficulties if we become all very emotional and overly spiritual.
The problem is – we want this to experience to happen again, and again and again. The Church in the past, and even today wants to create these emotional highs. It built magnificent awe inspiring cathedrals, it has used music to lift the spirits and reach another plane – a window into heaven. Mass evangelists are not past using techniques that tinker, some might say manipulate, our emotions and feelings. It happens – however, in my experience, this does not tend to be a failing of most Uniting Church congregations. We are a rather prosaic lot and not overly emotional.
As I said God will address us in God’s own good time. Our more likely response, even failing, as good Uniting Church people, is to turn some great moment in history of insight into some ritual, worse, an empty ritual. In the story of the transfiguration this was the temptation the disciples who were with Jesus on that occasion experienced. . . . true not so much empahasised in Matthew’s account, but certainly it was there in the other gospels. The disciples wanted to enshrine – literally – build a shrine around this moment with a memorial, some structure, that would capture what they experienced. Jesus, Moses and Elijah could have their own shrines – everyone would then know what had happened on this high mountain. Their moment of encounter would be remembered. Life and the depth of life would not continue back on the plain – the great experiences were up there on the mountain.
Within the church we have this tendency, temptation, to lock into history, historicise, great moments of understanding and insight and then proceed to devalue that remembrance with hollow ritual and practice. I am sure we done this with the high feasts of the Christian year – society certainly has done that with some of our festivals like Christmas and Easter. All the wonder and amazement of God’s encounter with us in Christ’s death on the cross or the birth of Jesus, is sucked out, and we are left with a hollow shell; worse, a commercial opportunity.
The classic example, indeed it is what we will celebrate today – this sacrament of Holy Communion. Here is that great insight of Jesus, an insight of who he is for us. He saw our need to be reminded of this, of God’s love for us all, of our restored relationship with God. We need to live that spiritual insight, breathe that spiritual reality, taste that fact that God loves us, experience our restored relationship with God – just know and feel it. Yes we do this in the context of a meal – using the most familiar and ordinary of things – bread and wine. We of course pray that through the Holy Spirit these common place things will be for us the body and blood of Christ. It is more than just recalling a significant meal of history – the last supper; it is today now also a celebration of our new life, of our salvation, of God’s love and presence. I am sure you immediately recall particular services of holy communion which you have celebrated and have been veritably touched by God – occasions when you afresh have understood God’s love for you – of God’s presence with you, of Gods peace. The meal was truly food for your journey of life. But I am sure there have been other times when communion has just descended into empty ritual . . . and not for you a fresh encounter with the risen Christ; it was just a ritual like we may perform on some public occasion. A ritual with no present significance – just a recollection of the past. You see that was the point of Jesus with his disciples – he didn’t want just some building on a mountain; he wanted them in time to have through the power of the spirit, his presence with them all the time. Those booths presented real dangers.
This perhaps also explains that puzzling feature from this story of the transfiguration as to why the disciples were instructed to tell no one “until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” This so called messianic secret is the subject of much theological ink – because it is not only here the disciples are instructed to tell no one. However, in this context of heightened emotions I think this is good wisdom. Your vision, your experience just may not be right – you may not have the whole story – you may need time to reflect. There may be more for you to work out. Your aha moment may not be wrong in itself, but there may be more. Six days prior to going up this mountain Jesus had told his disciples he would die, be killed on the cross. There was not just going to be the divine fireworks, the glory, there was also to be the selfless love, the service, the death because of other’s sin – this would reveal who Jesus is in all his fullness. Jesus didn’t want to be recalled in a memorial – but in the lives of his followers when he had gone.
So be open to God addressing you; it will occur when you least expect it; be careful it is indeed the divine; respond appropriately; resist the temptation to freeze or recreate that time – rather live out a transformed life.
