By Lyndon Marcotte, Contemplative Corner
Transfiguration Sunday, Year B
Mark 9:2-9
This is known as Transfiguration Sunday in the life of the Church. It’s a day when we reflect on this unique moment in the life of Christ, and it’s implications for us. This is an unusual story in the Gospels that sticks out from all others. Trans-figuration literally means “change,” “figure or form.” Jesus’ appearance changed miraculously. This carpenter’s son, this man from Galilee, this teacher, this Rabbi became something else. All through the Gospels you begin with an introduction of who Jesus is and little by little, piece by piece, parable by parable, miracle by miracle, you get a more complete picture of who He is. There are hints being dropped along the way about who He is and what He is here to do. Some people catch on quicker than others, but eventually we all see the full picture of Jesus on the cross and leaving an empty tomb. This day on this mountaintop God pulls back the curtain of our understanding for a moment and lets theses few disciples get a picture of just who Jesus is.
Moses represents the Law, and Elijah the prophets. This mountaintop meeting is full of theological significance, depicting Christ as the fulfillment of them both. Moses and Elijah also had their mountaintop moments, if you remember. Moses went up the mountain to meet with God where he was hid in the cleft of the rock as the glory of God passed by. Elijah went up on the mountain hoping to have that same kind of experience that Moses had, but he discovered that God was in the sound of gentle silence. Now Jesus too is having his mountaintop moment with God where the glory of God is being revealed in Him and to His disciples.
Peter said it was good for them to here and have this experience. It was so good that he didn’t want anyone to leave. He offered to build three shelters for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah so they could stay there on that mountaintop and enjoy this moment for as long as possible, but we can’t make moments last forever. You can’t freeze time and just avoid the rest of your life. You can’t live on the mountaintop. You’ll starve and freeze to death. You have to come down eventually. Everything comes down eventually, but you can come down different than the way you went up.
On Transfiguration Sunday, the last Sunday before Lent begins, we are given a glimpse of the big picture. You see, in Mark’s Gospel there are three major confessions of the Christ’s identity: the first at his baptism, when the heavenly voice declares, “You are my Son, the Beloved.” It’s a scene of glory. The last is on the cross, when after Jesus’ death, a Roman soldier confesses, “Truly this man was God’s Son!” It’s a scene of suffering. In between these two is this one, a confession that combines his glory and his suffering. Peter wants to build some monuments on the mountain. The only monument will become a cross on a hillside.
But none of us really want to go through Lent to get to Easter. Can’t we just skip the ashes and sackcloth? Can’t we just have spring now? Can’t we just sing Handel’s “Hallelujah Chorus” and be done with all of the suffering? The disciples felt the same way. Can’t we just overthrow the Romans and be done with it all?
You probably are aware that in the Gospels the disciples don’t always come off looking so good. That’s especially true with Mark’s Gospel. In this account of the life of Jesus, the disciples are repeatedly portrayed as thick, blind. In fact, in this section of Mark, it’s a blind man who proclaims the true identity of Jesus, while his closest followers stumble around in the dark. As a former colleague of mine once noted, in Mark’s Gospel anytime the disciples are afraid, you could just as easily translate it as confused. In other words, the Greek word for “terrified” is “duh.” Peter didn’t know what to say, writes Mark, “for they were terrified.” Same thing in this case.
We’d rather take the shortcut to Easter, but we can’t. In his book Peculiar Speech, Will Willimon says, “When you join the Rotary they give you a handshake and a lapel pin. When you join the church we throw you in water and half drown you.” The Lenten journey ahead of us begins with ashes and leads toward a cross. That’s the truth.
But it’s not the whole truth. You see, if scholars are right, that the transfiguration is a glimpse of things to come, then it is worth noting that Jesus’ words of explanation end in resurrection. He comes down from the mountain and warns them not to say anything about what happened until he is raised from the dead. If the beginning of Lent is ashes, its end is resurrection.
Before you undertake any great journey you plan ahead and make provisions for the trip: how much money you’ll need, how much gas, food, where will you stay, what the itinerary will be, which route you will take, etc. You want to make sure that you have everything you need or access to what you need along the way. If you don’t, you won’t make it to your destination. We need to take a spiritual inventory of our lives from time to time, especially as we go through difficulties and hardships in the valleys.
Richard Rohr says, “Your image of God creates you.” Whatever image you hold of God in your mind and heart, creates it. It’s formative. It shapes who you are, what you believe, what you think, how you react, where you will go, what you will do, how you feel. It sustains you when all other lights have gone out. The reason we most often fall in the dark moments of our lives is because we do not have a proper image of God fixed within us.
A couple years ago I was going into a nursing home in south Louisiana, and an old man was sitting outside on the bench. As I walked across the parking lot, I could see he was holding something to his nose. As I got closer I could see that it was an old photograph, dog-eared and worn. He didn’t just glance at that picture for a second. He looked long, hard, and lovingly into it. As I passed him by he slowly slipped that picture back into his front shirt pocket and gazed out in the distance. It was a picture of his wife, who no doubt had gone on before him. That picture of her sustained him. It accompanied the image of her that he held in his mind and heart.
We need a proper image of God fixed within us. Often, we have an idea of God fashioned in our own image. A God on call for emergencies, a good book we can rub between our hands for good luck, an image of God that looks like us, believes like us, and most importantly agrees with us. Richard Rohr says that prayer is not making our wish list known to God so that we can get what we want. Prayer is about completely emptying us of ourselves before God, so that He can fill us with Himself. Only when that transfiguration has occurred within us will we have the strength and sustenance to go through the storms and valleys with faith and courage.
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