Transfiguration Sunday
“Being Change” — Rev. Brent Gundlah
First Reading (Exodus 24:12-18/NRSVUE)
Gospel Reading (Matthew 17:1-9/NRSVUE)
There are moments in all of our lives that provoke us into seeing things differently than we had before. And moments like these can be difficult and unnerving; after all, it’s not easy to have your world view turned upside down.
For me (and for a whole lot of other folks, I think) there’s been an accumulation over the past few years (and particularly over the past year) of things said and things done in the world (or at least in our corner it) that I never thought I’d hear or see:
Basic human decency and civility thrown out the window (along with much of the Constitution, apparently);
civilians being shot dead in the streets by masked officers roaming around with no identification and, seemingly, no accountability;
intrusions into private property being made by so-called “law enforcement” without judicial warrants (that’s some irony for you);
the rich and powerful escaping justice for unspeakable crimes;
a five-year old named Liam Ramos coming home from a day at school in Minnesota and being snatched from his driveway, along with his father and whisked away to an immigrant detention center in Texas — even though, by all accounts, they were here legally under our existing asylum laws and had committed no crimes.
I’ve slowly been coming to the realization that I’m not living in the country I thought I’d been living in. Then again, maybe the problem is with me and I just didn’t see (or didn’t want to see) this country for what it’s really been all along. And as a result what I’ve mostly wanted to do for a while now is lay down on my couch, hide under a blanket and keep the world that lies outside my front door at bay.
But, for some reason, seeing that photo of Liam Ramos hit me particularly hard; I don’t why, exactly, but it was a turning point for me. That image of him standing there in his driveway next to an ICE vehicle wearing his little plaid coat, blue bunny hat and superhero backpack looking absolutely terrified is one I won’t ever forget. Witnessing, in such a visually striking way, the truth of the cruelty that’s become commonplace in our country these days was one of those events that really changed the way I see things. Like I said, we all have such moments in our lives. Those disciples up there on that mountain with Jesus sure did.
Today’s reading from Matthew’s Gospel tells the story of the Transfiguration, which is a big fancy name for “change” — generally, into something more beautiful or more spiritual. We hear a version of this story in church every single year on the last Sunday before Lent, before Jesus and his disciples begin their long journey to Jerusalem and, ultimately, to the cross.
In this story, the most obvious transfiguration takes place with respect to Jesus; I mean it’s not every day that you go on a hiking trip with someone you thought you knew and they suddenly start glowing and their clothes turn bright white and they stand there having a conversation with a couple of prophets who were supposed to be dead. And it’s definitely not every day that the voice of God then emanates from the clouds and says this about that someone you thought you knew: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”
The funny thing is, though, we’re more than halfway through Matthew’s Gospel by the time all of this happens. The disciples have been following Jesus around for quite a while at this point; they’ve witnessed him preaching and teaching and healing and performing miracles; they’ve seen him feed the five thousand and walk on water. Heck, just a few verses earlier Peter even declares that Jesus is the Messiah. While the special effects up there on the mountain are clearly impressive, Jesus pretty much seems to be what he’s been all along. But some other things have clearly changed.
Right after Peter acknowledges that Jesus is, in fact, the Son of the living God, the Messiah, Jesus begins to turn his disciples’ understanding of what that means completely upside down.
All of the stuff that Jesus had been doing to this point has been great, but they’re expecting a king who will eventually decide to lay waste to their enemies and liberate them from their oppression the way that this typically happens in the world — through overwhelming force and, if necessary, violence. But Jesus makes it pretty clear that this ain’t what’s gonna happen.
Here’s what Matthew tells us: “From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” And poor Peter’s reaction to this transfiguration of his understanding of Jesus as the Messiah is complete denial and disbelief — well, at least at first anyway. It’s fair to say that he’s a little shaken, which makes sense; like I said earlier, it’s never easy to have your entire world view turned upside down. And this is when Jesus decides to take Peter, James and John up the mountain.
At first they had to have been pretty thrilled; I mean, all of this shining and glowing — not to mention special guest appearances by Moses and Elijah — probably had them thinking: “That’s more like it! The world down there is a complete dumpster fire, but things up here are awesome.” And so how does Peter, the first among these disciples react? He proposes that they get to work building a tiny house village so they can hang out up there forever, which is basically just the higher altitude, slightly more outdoorsy version of laying on one’s couch under a blanket hiding from the world.
But then that voice from the heavens starts talking and shatters poor Peter’s entire plan, reminding the disciples that Jesus is, in fact, the Son, the Beloved, the Messiah, and commanding them to listen to Jesus. And it is at this point that all fall to the ground overcome by fear. Truth be told, I would probably react in much the same way if God just showed up out of nowhere and started talking to me, but I think these disciples are rattled by way more than that.
You see, they’re starting to realize that listening to Jesus and doing what he’s calling them to do isn’t going to be easy. It will mean seeing him differently, seeing themselves differently, seeing everything differently;
it will mean accepting that Jesus isn’t quite the Messiah they wanted or expected, but that he is the one they needed;
it will mean trying to change the way things are by seeking justice and showing mercy and loving their neighbor, instead of through domination and violence;
it will mean not playing it safe but sacrificing themselves like Jesus does;
it will mean no more avoiding the truths about Jesus, about the world, and about themselves that they maybe should have known all long;
it will mean no more hiding from the world in which they live.
And the prospect of all that might have been even more terrifying than that voice from the heavens was.
But right after God speaks up and tells the disciples to listen to Jesus what is perhaps the biggest transfiguration of this entire story happens. It’s way more subtle than the flashy one we might be drawn to focus on here; and yet, I would argue, it’s way more important in the grand scheme of things.
As the disciples are there on the ground cowering in fear, Jesus comes along, touches them and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And they do it. And not only do they do that, they also decide to follow Jesus back down the mountain — into the world with all it’s pain and suffering and problems and conflict — because disciples of Christ can’t just stay up there on the mountain, or lie there on the ground. I mean, I guess they could — and I guess we could too — but that’s not what discipleship is all about.
Discipleship is about seeing the world for what it is, believing it could be better, and doing the work to make it so — work that is generally difficult and tedious and frustrating and, sometimes, dangerous — but also necessary. Because, let’s face facts: the world ain’t gonna change unless we change it. And understanding that is the transfiguration the disciples experience here.
Did all of the stuff that happens in this story really happen the way Matthew says it did? I can’t tell you one way or the other because I wasn’t there. That being said, it would be great if laser light show Jesus and God’s booming voice from the sky would show up and jar me — jar us — out of our complacency and show us all what’s what. But let’s be honest, that’s probably not going to happen.
But there is a whole lot going on out there these days that will challenge your understanding of the way things are and they way they should be and the way they could be if you only have eyes to see and ears to hear and hearts to feel it. And while I won’t presume to know where you might find the thing that finally pulls the rug out from under you, I think I found it in the image of that scared little kid from Minnesota standing in his driveway not knowing what’s going to happen to him next. I hope you find yours — soon.
And when you do find, when you’re world is completely turned upside down (if it hasn’t been already),
let’s come down from the mountain;
let’s get up off the ground;
let’s climb out from underneath that blanket on the couch, walk through that front door into this world — clear-eyed about what a hot mess it truly is — and do our part, whatever that might be, to make it the kind of world that God created it to be.
Let’s allow ourselves to be transfigured.