"And Jesus Was Transfigured..." Mark 9: 2-9

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

I’ll call him Roger. Roger was dying. He had fought the good fight for quite a long time. The doctors had done all they could but even the special specialists agreed: there was nothing left to do. What started as a plan to cure, became a plan to care, and finally, it was simply to comfort as he waited to fall asleep in the arms of Jesus. The family had always gathered at his house for big family meals; this night, they were gathering to bid their husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather goodbye until the resurrection of all flesh. He had a wooden cross in his hand, and a tired smile across his face, as he looked at the family and said, “I just want to touch Jesus’ robe…” But his daughter couldn’t handle it. She ran out of the room, down the hall, into the living room. Sitting on the couch, she balled her hands into fists and pounded the cushions and pillows. “Dad can’t die. God can’t have him yet. I’m not ready for him to go…”

Don’t be too hard on her. Dying…no one wants to talk about death and dying. Especially not when we’re talking about someone we love. We’ll talk about blood pressure meds, maybe; cholesterol meds if we have to; compare bedside manners of orthopedic surgeons and back-cracking techniques of chiropractors, sure – but you don’t hear people having a family funeral director on retainer.  

But the irony is we live in a culture that is obsessed with death. Or, rather, not dying. We don’t talk about it; we dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge to avoid it, only talking about it when it is an absolute must. As a culture, we do whatever we can to keep even the appearance of death away. We spend thousands of dollars a year on “age-defying” skin care products; we get a nip here and a tuck there to keep cheeks firm and body parts perky. And men – don’t think I’m just talking to women. Have you seen the TV commercials with old, long-retired ball players who, thanks to whatever product they’re hawking, are now back to their playing weight, and – with a suggestive wink and nod – are noticed by the ladies again?

Just moments before, Peter – along with James and John - had seen Jesus transfigured, where His appearance became whiter than white - mountaintop snow 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.

Mark simply states that Moses and Elijah were talking with Jesus. Matthew notes the same. Luke, however, gives us the fuller report. 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. Peter didn’t have plastic surgery available, nor did he have packaged supplements to take. But what he did have was a little bit of know-how to make shelters – tabernacles, or tents - and the determination to keep Jesus on top of the mountain, away from His enemies below who wanted to kill him. 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. 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.

Your cross is where you struggle in life because of faith. Your cross might be an abusive coworker or neighbor who mocks you endlessly for openly sharing your faith. It might be a classmate who laughs at you because you treat your body as a gift of God and not a science laboratory or for someone else’s evening pleasure. It might be not understanding why God doesn’t seem to answer your prayers for help and aid. It might be memories of your own troubled past that you know are forgiven by Jesus, but they just won’t go away. It might be a body that is failing or a mind that is hurting or a conscience that is burdened.

Or, it might be the death of a loved one like it was for Roger’s family. It is a humbling thing and a powerful moment to stand at the bedside of the Christian who is in his or her last moments of life. There are so many emotions and feelings that come flooding in, both for the one who is dying and for those who have gathered around. There is fear – yes, even Christians fear death; after all, it is completely unknown – and sadness; perhaps guilt at sins of the past; there may be a sense of relief, especially if one has suffered and struggled, but even in that, there is grief because this is someone who is loved. It was a humbling thing to stand there, next to his bed on that Saturday evening, many years ago, and it is daunting thing. What would you say to Roger – or to any other Christian, for that matter?

I echoed the words of the Father on the Mount of Transfiguration. You are God’s beloved son, I said. I returned him to his 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,” with the sign of the cross over his forehead and heart as a reminder that he had been redeemed by Christ the crucified. We confessed the Apostle’s Creed so that he could be reminded of the Christian faith he had been baptized into and that he had lived in for eight decades. I reminded him 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 this beloved brother. Then, speaking the words of absolution to them, I declared his sins forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Finally, pointing to the cross in his hand, I reminded him that he had already died in Christ in his 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.

Amen.