27th February 2022 – Exodus 34.29-35 & Luke 9.28-36
Our reading from Luke is know to many as the transfiguration. A word not often used, but I was recently surprised to hear it over and over and over in the first Harry Potter book that I was reading to my 10 year old God-daughter. Our New Testament passage today is a far stretch from Professor McGonagall's transfiguration lessons, but carries the same awe, and excitement.
Jesus, Peter, James and John wake up at first light, and head up a mountain to pray, like they've done so many times before, and will do so many times again. This was normal, a part of day-to-day and week-to-week life with Jesus. Unsurprisingly, the disciples were weighed down with sleep, but managed to hold their eyes open to the sight of their friend, the man they'd dropped everything to follow changed, dazzling before them, with two long-dead men of their faith, Moses and Elijah talking to him. I imagine they blinked once, twice, three times before staring at each other, and then back at Jesus in shock. Jesus' brightness is a sight to see, it is that change to his being that causes us to call this the story of the transfiguration.
In all the early morning mountain prayer meetings, this had never happened before. Hindsight means that we know that Jesus is revealing to Peter, James and John that he is God. We see something similar in our Old Testament reading: the presence of God causes Moses' face to be radiant, to be bright, to be lit up. But with Jesus, because he is not just human, he is God, his whole being is changed, his clothes, his body, his face.
In this story, the disciples have a mountain-top moment in their faith – the presence of God is been revealed to the disciples: if what has come so far isn't enough, the experience ends with the voice of God proclaiming that this is God's son, the chosen one. They have had a new revelation, they have a new understanding in their faith as they see their friend, their Lord, their God in a new way, and they try and hold tightly onto this moment, so they will remember it forever and ever.
Is anyone here a fan of walking to the top of a mountain? I had this very false view in my head that it was a short uphill and then a marvellous view when I started going with some family friends a few years back. I learnt very quickly, much to my disgust, that that is not the case. You climb a mountain by going up quite a bit, then down a bit, then up a bit, then flat for a bit, and then that peak you thought was really close, you suddenly realise isn't, then you go back down a bit, then up, then really up, and after a few more ups and downs, make it to your destination.
Life is much like this – there are bumps in the road, long slogs, freewheeling down hills, twists, turns, changes in the terrain and more. We need to have persistence, motivation, support from those around us, an understanding that the view at the top is worth the uphill climb. Our faith journeys are just the same.
As Christians, the knowledge of the goodness of the view at the top could be translated to the knowledge of the goodness of God, but it is actually a bit different. Instead of God residing at the top of the mountain, waiting for us there, God has come down to meet us in Jesus – to walk with us, to walk alongside us, to bring that shiny light down into our world. Moses has to go up a mountain to sit in the presence of God, but Jesus came to earth so that we might have life and light in abundance, in the good and in the bad, in the highs and in the lows.
Our hope is not founded on this earth, it is found in our God who walked the walk of humanity, and died the death of humanity. He was buried, he was dead. But three days later the world changed forever – death was beaten, and every power, every evil had to bow to the name of Jesus who had won. God said: this is my son, listen to him.
This week has handed the world quite a few, very deep lows – and many of us are searching for light and hope in our despair confusion and loss. Because we have a hope that is not founded on this earth, we as Christians, we can stand in places of no hope and provide the light and the life of God. When all is hopeless, we come to the God of hope, to the God of change, to the God of life, and we share love and the light of hope.
In your despair, come to Christ; in your confusion, come to Christ, in your anger, come to Christ. Bring all to Christ – God came running to meet us to be with us in these moments. I'm struck by the amount of times that the disciples go with Jesus to pray, and nothing spectacular happens. We of course only know the recorded ones, let alone the unrecorded ones. Our life with God is founded in the ordinary, in the humanity of our relationship with God. Of course, God's divinity is the reason for our relationship with God, but we don't often find our prayer and worship interrupted by blinding light, whether literal or metaphorical.
This week has been heavy, and I believe the next few weeks will continue to be heavy. Let the story of the transfiguration remind you of God's goodness, God's divinity, God's transforming power over and above every evil, every power used against God's children. Can I encourage you to rest in that story this week? See if you can find just one minute each day to sit quietly and imagine being on that mountain with Jesus, basking in that light of divinity and love.
Know too that the more time we spend basking in the love of God, the more light we reflect into our communities. Moses' face literally shines, thankfully we are spared the Holy Sunburn, but our lives are rooted in the love of Christ, and that cannot be contained. It spills out and over into the lives of those around us. God's love is the most powerful antidote to evil, to destruction and war.
Beloved children of God, remember in whatever comes to you this week, that the God who is sovereign over all walks with you, with joy shining bright, and love abounding.
Can I pray for us?
Lord God, we pray that our lives would be filled with your love, that our hopeless paths would be lit with your hope, and that our world without peace would know your everlasting peace.
Amen.