Welcome to Transfiguration Sunday and to the end of the Epiphany season!
Several weeks ago, we talked about the meaning of this word, epiphany. Anyone want to venture a definition? An epiphany can be an idea, a new thought, perhaps even a new understanding. The season of Epiphany is quite similar. It’s a season of revelation, of stories that tell us who Jesus is.
If you think all the way back to early January, when we first moved into the gospel of Mark, do you remember how the gospel opened? “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Soon after, at Jesus’ baptism, we heard the voice from heaven speaking directly to Jesus - “You are my Son, the Beloved,” confirming that this Jesus is the Christ, the Anointed One, the Messiah long promised. We know this, but, so far only the demons have been able to figure it out, too. The disciples just don’t seem to get it.
This is likely why, in the story just before today’s reading, we witness Jesus healing a blind man. Twice. Because the first time, it doesn’t take. At least not fully. Like the blind man, the disciples are beginning to see, but not clearly. At least, not yet.
Then, we come to the first part of today’s lesson. From Mark, chapter 8.
Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.
Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” --Mark 8:27-33 (NRSV)
This portion of our reading, often called the “Confession of Peter,” is the literary hinge for the Gospel of Mark. It’s both an ending to the first half of the Gospel and an introduction to the second half. We are transitioning from Galilee in the north in the first half to Jerusalem in the south in the second. After today’s story, we will begin this journey to the south. To Jerusalem. And to what awaits Jesus there.
But it has been in Galilee where the main question that Jesus is being asked is “Who are you?” Soon the question will change to “Why are you here?” But, before this happens, Jesus is about to give the disciples a little quiz. To decide how good their sight is. Or isn’t.
“Who do people say that I am?” Jesus asks them. Immediately, Peter jumps in with a response. “You are the Christ,” he says. We might applaud and cheer him for getting it so right. Except he has gotten it so wrong. Because, Peter doesn’t see. He doesn’t understand who this Jesus is. He has in his mind the traditional picture of the Messiah, of the Christ - a political figure who would wield power and authority and who would free the Jewish people from Roman occupation, restoring the line of King David. This is who Peter understands Jesus to be. It is a picture that he and many others have created in their minds as to what this Messiah will be like, adopting their own idea, rather than God’s idea. An image that is perhaps intensified by the fact that they are in Caesarea Philippi, named in honor of Emperor Augustus Caesar, and the seat of power for the Roman government in this region.
Thus, we can easily understand why Peter, even after all the time spent with Jesus, would still believe that this was who Jesus was. Because it was this Messiah that fit who Peter was and what he really wanted. Peter and so many others.
Don’t we do the same thing? We fashion Jesus out of who we are and what we want in a savior. Maybe it’s a savior to swoop down and save us when we are done something foolish or made a bad choice. A savior of convenience, who we quickly forget then when things are better.
Or maybe we try to co-opt Jesus for our own political ends. With both the political left and right in our country trying to claim (or reclaim) Jesus as their own. Each creating an image of the Jesus they want and then co-opting him for their own purposes. To defend their actions. To support a position. To justify a cause.
Who are you? The answer to that question will identify what your Jesus looks like. Because chances are you, as I, have created Jesus in your image, for your own needs, and as you want him to be.
Just as Jesus did with Peter, he does with us. Rebuking us for thinking human thoughts instead of God’s thoughts.
Who is Jesus? What does it take to be his disciple? We, like Peter and the rest of the disciples, soon find this out.
He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words 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.” 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 power.” --Mark 8:34-9:1 (NRSV)
Jesus tells us to take up our cross. To take up our instrument of death and follow him. Because, to be Jesus’ disciple means we must lose our lives. Our selves. And, particularly, our image of the Messiah as we want him to be.
One wonders what Peter was thinking after all this. After his picture of who the Messiah was, of who Jesus was had been blown to smithereens. But, soon after, we find ourselves with him and other disciples in a mountaintop experience.
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, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. --Mark 9:2-8 (NRSV)
If Peter had been confused before, think of how he felt now. As they watched Jesus transfigured. Saw his face glowing. His clothing turning bright. Witnessing the appearance of Elijah - that great prophet. And Moses - that great law giver. Jesus, surrounded symbolically by the “Law and the Prophets.” And the fulfillment of them. And then that voice from heaven. This time speaking directly to them. This is my Son. Listen to him! It’s no wonder Peter wanted to stay there. To bask in that experience for a little bit. To build a few tents and just camp out there. Because the words Jesus had spoken a few days before, about taking up one’s instrument of death, had stuck with him. Perhaps, terrified him a bit. Here, on the mountain top, he felt safe and secure, basking in the light of Jesus, the very Son of God.
Sisters and brothers, just as our story today is a literary hinge in the Gospel of Mark, so this Transfiguration Sunday is a hinge between Epiphany and Lent. Between the revelation of who Jesus is and the answer to the question of why he has come. It’s tempting for us to want to stay here, on the mountaintop, where it feels safe and secure. Where we are centered. Where we, like Peter, bask in the glory of God.
But, this is not who we have been called to be. Instead, we are called down off the mountain, into the messiness and grittiness of our daily lives. Into our communities. Freed as we are to be in service to this place. And, knowing that, as we journey, Jesus accompanies us as he did Peter and the disciples. Teaching us who he is, why he came, and reminding us who we are. Every step of every day for the rest of our lives, into all eternity.
May we bask in the light of our Savior this day. But, may we then gladly go out to be in service to all the world. Amen.
Preached February 23, 2020, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
The Transfiguration of Our Lord
Readings: Mark 8:27-9:8; Malachi 4:4-6; Psalm 27:1-4
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