Jesus' Exodus - Luke 9:28-36

What a difference a week makes. A week earlier, Jesus had asked the disciples what the crowds were saying about him. They answered, some were saying Jesus is John the Baptist, or Elijah or one of the other prophets. “What about you all – what do you disciples say about me? Peter spoke up on behalf of the twelve: “You are the Christ of God.” Luke records Jesus’ instructions: don’t tell anyone. Then Jesus adds, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised.” (Luke 9:23). 

Over the course of the next few days, Jesus’ strange, suffering talk would continue. “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. ²⁴ For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” This is a far cry from all of the cool, miraculous stuff Jesus had been doing. Why, shortly before this he had fed the 5000 with a boy’s lunch (9:10ff); he healed a woman from blood loss and Jairus’ sick daughter (8:40ff); he drove demons out of a man and into a herd of pigs (8:26ff). He even calmed a storm (8:22). That’s cool stuff, that’s powerful stuff, that’s the kind of hero the disciples – and the crowds – could get behind! 

But this suffering talk… it’s a real downer. No one likes to talk about death and dying. When I was at my uncle’s funeral a few weeks ago, no one asked the other family members if they had their final arrangements made yet. No one talked about their favorite funeral hymns. No one talked about the top ten funeral sermons they’ve ever heard. They talked about upcoming vacations, and confirmations, and graduations; they talked about plans for family trips and get-aways. We talked about baseball season and the weather and the size of cactus in Arizona. But no one talked about their own death. No one talked about their family cemetery plots. With the reality of death around us, we wanted instead to focus on life.

I tell you this so you’re not too hard on Peter. Truly, he loves Jesus; truly, he wants to serve Jesus. Also truly, he has a misunderstanding of who Jesus really is, what His purpose is. And, truly, Peter has a misunderstanding of his own role. Perhaps he’s trying to win points for protecting Jesus, or perhaps he’s trying to gain influence by showing himself a go-getter. We don’t know. What we do know is that Peter wants to do whatever is necessary to stay on the mountain and not go back down there.

Down there. Who would want to go “down there?” Before they came up the mountain, Jesus talked of dying. If they go back down He would face that death. But on the mountain…on the mountain, things were glorious. 

We use an expression in English to describe what is taking place on the top of the mount of transfiguration: it’s a mountaintop high. A mountaintop high is something so remarkable, something so beautiful, breathtaking, wonderful, enlightening, heart-stoppingly incredible that you don’t ever want it to end. It doesn’t literally have to be on top of a mountain. These moments can be anywhere that a place of wonder and amazement and joy can happen. A hospital delivery room, a multi-colored sunrise or sunset radiating down through the clouds, standing in a lush, green valley looking up into the snow-capped Rocky mountains, watching a rainbow appear from the raindrops and slowly fade away, seeing a baby take first, tentative steps, when you see your bride step through the doors of the sanctuary. As Jim Croce said, you wish you could put time in a bottle and keep those moments forever. 

Just moments before, Peter – along with James and John - had seen Jesus transfigured, where His appearance became whiter than white. Where Jesus’ divinity had been hidden since His Bethlehem birth, on the mountain, His glory shone with all of its radiant brightness. If that’s not enough to stun Peter, James and John, Jesus is joined on the mountaintop with two of the Old Testament’s great heroes of faith: Moses, the great lawgiver, and Elijah, the great prophet. Jesus fulfills the law given through Moses, and is the one foretold by Elijah. 

Luke tells us what’s taking place. Elijah and Moses “spoke of Jesus’ departure, which He was about to accomplish in Jerusalem.” In other words, they were speaking about His Passion, that He must suffer at the hands of the chief priests and scribes, be crucified, and with his death pay the full wages of sin with his own death.

But Peter? Peter was not ready for Jesus to go down to the valley of the shadow. If he could delay Jesus, if He could impede His descent from the holy mountain down to where Jesus’ enemies would be waiting, then all would be well. He offers to build three tabernacles, three tents, one each for Jesus, Moses and Elijah, and says so that they can all stay up on the mountain and live happily ever after. No death…no dying…none of that stuff we don’t want to talk about.

The group is suddenly swallowed by a cloud. Throughout the Scriptures, clouds are symbols of and even manifestations of the glory of God. Where moments earlier, Jesus face shown with the radiance of His glory, they are now overwhelmed by an even greater glory. If there is any doubt of what is taking place, the voice of the Father in heaven shatters the moment. “This is my beloved son. Listen to Him.” 

Those words echo Jesus’ baptism where the Father spoke to Jesus, “You are my beloved Son.” The Father’s words re-focus the entire purpose of Jesus life and ministry. Jesus did not come to dwell in a tent built on top of a mountaintop. His purpose in ministry wasn’t to hide up in the clouds with two heroes of old and three disciples in training and live in blissful abandon. He isn’t going to tabernacle on top of the mountain; He comes to tabernacle among us. Jesus must go down the Mount of Transfiguration and then up the mountain of Zion, where Jerusalem sits, where the cross is waiting for Him; He will be arrested; He will be convicted; He will die abandoned and forsaken by everyone.

We are entering the season of Lent. It is a somber season, intended to be one of penitential reflection as we consider our own mortality and our own sinfulness. We will hear Jesus speak of His coming passion. We will see tensions rise between Him and His enemies and they will plot to kill him. We will ponder this incredible story of love once again, the perfectly sinless Son of God who becomes our substitute. The hymns become heavier, both in tone and in the theology they carry, and we will set aside the use of the word alleluia. Alleluia is a word of praise and celebration; Lent is not a time for that word, so we will “bury” it until Easter morning when we will mark it’s own resurrection with the Easter cry “Christ is risen, He is risen indeed, Alleluia!”

But we are not there, yet. We are heading down into the valley of the shadow. With Jesus we will descend the Mount of Transfiguration. We will journey with Jesus to the cross. But more than that, know that Jesus journeys with you as you carry your own cross this Lententide. 

As you enter Lent, do so with the words of the Father on the Mount of Transfiguration in your ears: You are my beloved sons and daughters. Remember, in your baptism where the Triune name of God was spoken over him, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” it began with the sign of the cross over his forehead and heart as a reminder that he had been redeemed by Christ the crucified. Remember that this Jesus, of whom we speak, did not stay on top of a mountaintop, safe and secure, but went down into the valley of the shadow of death for you. Hear the words of absolution for you, declaring your sins forgiven. Remember, as well, that you have already died in Christ in your baptism, and that just as Christ was raised from the dead, he too shall be raised to new life when Christ returns. 

And, in that resurrection day, we, too, will be transfigured. Raised in glory, our bodies – whole and complete, holy and glorified – will also shine like Christ’s, never to die again. With Moses and Elijah and all the faithful, we will enjoy the blessed joy of eternity in the presence of the Father who declares you His beloved and that with you He is pleased.