From Mountains to Valley - 2-27-22

From Mountains to Valley

Ex 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-43

Ex 34:29-35

Moses came down from Mount Sinai. As he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. When Aaron and all the Israelites saw Moses, the skin of his face was shining, and they were afraid to come near him. But Moses called to them; and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses spoke with them. Afterward all the Israelites came near, and he gave them in commandment all that the Lord had spoken with him on Mount Sinai. When Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil on his face; but whenever Moses went in before the Lord to speak with him, he would take the veil off, until he came out; and when he came out, and told the Israelites what he had been commanded, the Israelites would see the face of Moses, that the skin of his face was shining; and Moses would put the veil on his face again, until he went in to speak with him.

Luke 9:28-43

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” —not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen. On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. And all were astounded at the greatness of God. While everyone was amazed at all that he was doing . . .

Prayer – Still-speaking Lord, lift us out of the mire of everyday life, and take us to the mountaintop where we may be able to see beyond the cares and concerns of the present moment, all the way to your eternity. Transfigure our doubts, questions, misgivings by making our hearts and minds more steadfastly fixed on you, ever more determined to walk with you when we come down to the valley. Having seen your glory, having heard your reassuring voice, may we walk with you as faithful followers wherever that may lead – amen.

          As is typical in the common lectionary the season of Epiphany concludes with the story of the Transfiguration, our passage this morning when Jesus and three of his disciples climb the mountain and an unexpected light falls over Jesus, revealing him in intimate conversation with Moses and Elijah, the sainted patrons of Judaism. This transfiguration, this divine transparency transcends time and personal space. From Christmas to Lent, the gospel readings lift up one unexpected revelation after another, as things that have been hidden in Jesus come to light.

          Peter, perhaps the most human of all the disciples, begs for this moment to last. Who wouldn’t want a divine encounter to go on and on and on forever? He stammers out that he will build little houses for each of them as if that would capture the moment for eternity. And as is so often true when we realize we are bearing witness to something special the moment abruptly ends. It seems that our acknowledgement of divine moments end with the acknowledgement. 

          Jesus had gone up that mountain for some alone time and had brought his three closest friends with him. Jesus was tired, had been misunderstood, countless people had sought him out for what he could do for them while the religious authorities were criticizing every last thing he did. I can imagine that as Jesus trudged up that mountain with his besties he was hoping for a moment or two of quiet reflection and maybe a fireside chat with his friends.

          And as we hear from our passage this morning it didn’t quite unfold that way. His besties crashed and were snoring, so Jesus did what he always did on the mountain, he prayed to his Father in heaven. But this time, something unreal occurs, Moses and Elijah show up, shimmering in illustrious light. The Israelites themselves believed that any new Messiah that came would have to be in the mold of those two. Moses, the greatest prophet Israel had ever known, set the standard for any Messiah who would come in the future. Moses led the people in an Exodus from Egypt across the Red Sea to the wilderness. Moses had seen God face-to-face on Mt. Sinai, the Mount of Revelation.

          Of course on the human side, we remember that Moses didn’t want to be a prophet in the first place and had made excuses to God to get out of it. I for one know what it is like to make excuses to God, and perhaps you may as well. Moses had given in to the people when he just couldn’t stand anymore of their murmuring and complaining and rebelling.

          Like me, if you have ever compromised your faith convictions for popular opinion, we may have something in common with the greatest prophet of Israel. When God took him to the top of Mt. Nebo to survey the Promised Land, Moses just couldn’t enter into it. I can imagine Moses felt as if in some way he had disappointed God when he collapsed under the complaining and rebelling of the people entrusted to his care. Fearful, making mistakes, yet all in all a great prophet who knew both glory and suffering and he showed up on that mountain that night to show Jesus in all of his glory.

          Elijah was also present in that transcendent moment. Elijah was perceived as a fearless prophet who, rather than dying like the rest of us, was taken up into heaven in a chariot of fire. Of course, Elijah was the same prophet who, when he found out Queen Jezebel’s forces were out to kill him, ran scared, hid out in the hills and sitting under a broom tree begged pathetically for God to take his life. From begging for death under a broom tree to being taken up to heaven in a chariot, Elijah knew suffering and glory. The people of Israel in Jesus’ time fully expected that Elijah would return to signal the coming of the Messiah, and on that mountain, he had.

          What did those two talk to a tired and dread-filled Jesus about? Of the three synoptic gospels, only Luke tells us that Moses and Elijah talked to Jesus about his exodus from Jerusalem. They told him, I imagine, to view his journey to Jerusalem as an exodus from death to life, like the Red Sea passage, and to view his end in the same way. They reassured him he was on the right path. They offered him words of encouragement saying, ‘You got this.’ A magical divine moment and then perhaps in recognition of the divinity of the moment, they disappeared and Jesus, just like his disciples were alone with their thoughts and memories of this mountaintop experience.

          Jesus told his disciples to keep the moment they had experienced to themselves, to maintain a sense of quiet about that transcendent moment in time. Jesus knew what his takeaway for the moment was and he hoped that his disciples understood the significance of seeing Moses and Elijah talking with him. And still he told them to keep quiet about it once they came down off the mountain because we all have to come off the mountain at some point.

          Perhaps one of the lessons of our passage this morning is that we all can and do have mountaintop experiences and they all come to an end. Like the disciples it is pretty hard to explain to someone else what they have experienced on the mountaintop of transfiguration. I shared with you several weeks ago of my mountaintop experience when I finally accepted Christ into my heart rather than just in my head. And one of the most poignant things I recall as how hard it was to comprehend myself and how do I tell my parents and my friends about something so amazing and unforgettable. Trying to tell someone of a divine experience is nearly impossible – to share a priceless moment in time with another is beyond difficult – perhaps that is why those moments are transformative.

          I would venture a guess that another lesson from our passage this morning is that once we return to the valley, life in the valley hasn’t changed. Demons still exist, evil is around the corner, hard times continue to show up in our lives. I suspect that it is a misperception about the faithful walk is that once a person has experienced the divine moment that all things are easy. A misconception that living faithfully somehow protects us from the tragic, from the unbelievable, from the gutter that we sometimes find ourselves in as we traverse the chaotic waters of life.

          Part of Moses and Elijah’s conversation with Jesus is that walking the path of faithfulness comes with both glory and suffering. I can imagine those were not words that Jesus wanted to hear though from his own experience he knew them to be true. Perhaps another of Jesus’ takeaway was that life is found in the light and in the shadows and so that may also be our experience as we go through life – light and shadow.

          Friday afternoon I drove out to Granbury to try to proclaim good news to Sarah and Heath who had lost their infant daughter the week before. During the memorial service there were tears and there were smiles. We talked about the creative love that placed Brystol in Sarah’s womb and the hopeful anticipation of a daughter for both Sarah and Heath as well as their families. We talked about the tragedy of not understanding, of not having a frame of reference for when a baby dies suddenly without explanation. We talked about how God showed up in that room as family and staff offered tender and compassionate presence and care with and to them in the most difficult of times. We talked about how does one go on in the midst of all that hope and excitement that has suddenly crashed with the loss of child? And what I told them is the same thing I tell myself – I don’t know but I just go on.

          Moses and Elijah understood both sides of the coin of light and shadow and going on. You try to make meaning out of both the light and the shadow without perhaps knowing the why. Knowing why doesn’t take away the pain of the valley’s of life. Knowing why doesn’t erase the reality of the tragic and unbelievable. Going on means making meaning out of even senseless happenings in life. Going on means choosing the hard path forward, stumbling at times, and getting up and keeping on.

          I suppose that on this last Sunday in the season of Epiphany it is important for each of us to realize that we all have been on the mountaintop and that we all have to return to the valley. We, each one of us have had those life changing moments when the divine has touched us deeply and profoundly. What I suppose we also need to remember is that divine moments are transformative moments that help us get through the tragic and unbelievable moments that happen every single day. Together, suffering and glory go hand in hand – that is life, that is the human experience and God goes with us on that path. That is what it means to go from the mountains to the valley and trusting, or even borrowing someone else’s belief that God is with us – thanks be to God – amen.

Mike Johnston