Moving On
a sermon by Rev. Rebecca Segers
Exodus 24:12-18
Matthew 17:1-9
Imagine that you are one of Jesus’ disciples. One of the few who travel with him and listen to him on a daily basis and are struggling to understand his message and basking in his love. One morning, Jesus wakes you early as well as your brother or sister and another friend and tells the three of you to come with him.
How would you have felt? Wouldn’t that have been a thrilling moment? It’s early in the morning, perhaps the sun is rising, the air is crisp and clear. You rise with excitement, wondering why your Master is waking you, what special reason he has called you and your friends together.
He leads you away from where you are camped with the rest and toward a tall hill, a mountain really, and your spirit begins to sink a little. I mean, this is great, spending time alone with Jesus, but admittedly it’s often in silence and now it looks like there is a hefty hike in front of you.
Sure enough, he heads for the mountain and soon the four of you are headed upward, engaged in a steep, hilly ascent. You’re healthy. I mean you walk all day every day, so this is not out of the realm of capability for you. But still. After a while, you feel your breath become ragged. Your steps slow. The backs of your thighs begin to burn and you wonder how far up this piece of rock Jesus is taking you. And, of course, he’s taking you to the top.
The climb takes the better part of the day. At one point you stop and share a crust of bread and some wine, but the break is all too short and soon you find yourself heading upward again. Finally, hours after you have begun, you are at the top. The sun is beginning to fade on the horizon. It’s practically in your eyes as you look at Jesus, blinding you, making you unable to see him clearly. He seems to be basking in the light, his clothes are glittering white and his face positively glows. You blink your eyes to clear the vision from it, but you realize that it is not a trick of the light, but reality. Jesus is standing before you transformed. Not only that, but on his one side is Moses and on the other is Elijah and they are talking together, the three of them as though this is just an ordinary occurrence. This is the most amazing sight you’ve ever seen in your life and your heart fills with the Holy Spirit’s love: your whole being feels as though it is on fire with God. You never want this moment to end.
You cry out to the Lord, “This is so awesome! Please let me build three houses here, one for each of you. Then people can come from far and wide to see you just as I have.”
In the midst of your enthusiastic speech, a loud voice breaks out of the cloud overshadowing you. Well, not a voice really, but a noise, a sound, a rumbling, but one that you somehow can understand with every fiber of your being. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”
At first you fall silent. Then realizing the source of all power has just spoken to you, you fall on your face in fear and trembling. This is God. This is the magnificent Creator of the Universe. This is the One who has made you and who can destroy you. And He, She, It doesn’t seem to be pleased with your idea.
As you lie on the ground shaking, wondering if this moment is going to be your last, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You hear a tender voice saying to you, “Get up and do not be afraid.” You look up and it is Jesus. The ordinary-looking Jesus that you see every day. Moses and Elijah are no longer a part of the picture. Jesus is alone. You are back in the world you know. The world of the commonplace and mundane. The world that is normal and familiar and run of the mill.
You breathe a sigh of relief mixed with disappointment as the four of you head back down the mountain. As you are making the descent, Jesus tells you not to tell a soul what has happened, until he has been raised from the dead. And you realize that maybe you’re not in the ordinary world after all. That maybe the magical world is still surrounding you but you just don’t see it. You wonder if you can keep the magic within your heart and do the work of being Jesus’ disciple with the external world imprinted over the one that you know exists – or if you will forget and become ordinary again, too.
This story is an oddity in the gospels. It is not like other stories that deal with everyday life and happenings. Even miracles occur to regular people living in regular towns dealing with regular life as they knew it back then. But this story takes us out of the world of the first century and into a mystical realm where time and death don’t matter and magic seems to happen. Scholars have tried for years to place this story. To give it an explanations that helps to put it in context, help it make sense: from the objective reporting of an event that literally happened, through various explanations of a subjective vision or dream of the disciples or their misunderstanding of a natural event, to a purely symbolic tale. There is some evidence that the story was originally an appearance story of the resurrected Christ, placed in a pre-Easter framework by the authors of the gospels. We could go round and round about the origins of the story and take up all our time on that aspect. But our task today is not to discover if this story really happened, but instead to divine what the meaning of it is for us today.
But let’s start with a little historical background. Matthew, as I’ve told you before, is the most “Jewish” of all the gospel authors. He seems to be writing to a Jewish audience, trying to set this new Jesus movement within that Jewish context. As a result, it’s very important to him that who and what Jesus is be portrayed in a way that keeps him in continuity and fulfillment of God’s work as represented by the Old Testament. This is part of why this story is important to Matthew.
As we read in the first Scripture lesson this morning, Moses goes up on the mountain and spends forty days and forty nights with God alone, after which he comes back strengthened to face the crowd and be the leader he must be to them. When he comes back to speak with the people, he glows. His face especially glows with such a fierce light that he has to cover it with a veil so that the people aren’t blinded. In Matthew’s version of the transfiguration, he specifically adds that Jesus’ face shone (which is left out in Mark’s version) and this is a connection to the Moses story. There are other connections, too, especially regarding Moses and Elijah’s appearance with Jesus. By portraying Moses, Elijah, and Jesus as talking together in a scene of transcendent glory, Matthew confirms his view that Jesus is a part of the great Jewish tradition of prophetic teachers. You see, Moses and Elijah were both prophets that were initially rejected by the people but vindicated by God, both were advocates of the covenant and the Torah, both worked miracles, and both were considered by first century Judaism to be transcendent figures who did not die but were taken directly to heaven. This scene puts Jesus right in the center of that Jewish stream of tradition and with the addition of God’s voice and Jesus left standing alone at the end of this section of the story, we are told very clearly that Jesus is the end of the line. The great and final prophet. The Messiah.
But we here today accept this. We don’t need for Matthew to convince us of who Jesus is in history. But perhaps what we do need Matthew to teach us today is who Jesus is in our lives. Because I think it is far more likely that we are like Peter. When we have a moment of experiencing God’s grace, a moment of being touched by the divine, a moment of fulfillment and tenderness and love and awe and majesty, we want to hang onto it!
We don’t want to move back on down the mountain and into the real world. We want to stay right where we are and bask in the glow of the moment. We want to build that temple to the Lord and never leave.
We here at Sweet Hollow have just had an amazing celebratory year in 2004. We spent a year basking in the glow of what it is to be a member or friend of Sweet Hollow Presbyterian Church. We had picnics and parties and played on the beach and sang great music to the Lord. We have reveled in the history of this “little church with a big heart” and had friends from far and near return to enjoy a special time together. We have remembered our past and talked about the fun times we’ve had and basked in the glory of what this church has been to so many. But it is time for moving on, people.
Like Jesus told Peter so many years ago, “Get up and do not be afraid,” I’m telling you: We cannot stay on the mountain. We all have days when we feel as though we’re there. Days or perhaps simply moments when things are going well and we feel connected to the divine. But those moments of inspiration are not to be lived in eternally while we still are on earth, but instead fuel the work that we have yet to do. We are not to build tabernacles to keep the glory of God lifted up on a mountain, but instead we are to walk down the mountain back into the world of sin and suffering and share the glory of the Lord with those around us.
I’m reminded of the speech that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., gave the day before he was assassinated. He opens by talking about the great panorama of history and when he would choose to live if he were given the opportunity. He very eloquently begins with the time of the Hebrew slaves in Egypt and works his way up through the Holy Roman Empire, the Renaissance and the time of the Emancipation Proclamation, but he ends ultimately with wanting to live in the now. The right now, which for him, on that day, was April 3, 1968, because while it was a time of great difficulty and pain – what with the Civil Rights movement, the war in Vietnam, apartheid in South Africa and other boiling issues – it was also a time when people had to stand up and grapple with them.
It is such a time now. Our world etched with deep pain. With the war in Iraq and 1, 440 of our soldiers who have died while the elections are being swept by Islamic religious parties, and the troubles in Afghanistan including more abuses by foreign troops, the news from Darfur all but disappearing in the wake of the Southeast Asian tsunami, Social Security under attack here in our own country while domestic or family violence is the number one concern of women according to Planned Parenthood, the news continues to trouble and disturb all who are paying attention. We can choose to sit by and ignore it all watching only television and reading or listening to news that does not distress. Or we can come down from the mountaintop and do the work of Jesus Christ today.
Simply being here today is a step in the right direction. It means we have our hearts and minds tuned in to the Lord. We are searching for, reaching for a way to make a difference for Christ. A way to reach out to a world desperately in need. We want to stay up in the clouds with Jesus, but we also want to come down the mountain. We want to do what the Lord requires of us.
The new Officers who were ordained and installed this morning have taken active steps to become a part of the building up of Christ’s body here at Sweet Hollow Presbyterian Church. They, in accepting leadership in this community, are a part of this coming down the mountain. But we are all called to the ministry of the Lord, some in leadership directly and others indirectly. We each have different skills and gifts to bring to the ministry to which we’re called. We are all called to go up the mountain and be refreshed by the Lord, and we are all called to come down the mountain and work for the coming of God’s kingdom.
As we go up the mountain today during this time of worship, let the spirit of refreshment fall upon us. Let us feel the sense of awe and wonder that Peter felt in beholding Jesus transfigured, transformed. Let us hold in our hearts the moment of recognition of God’s power and presence in our lives. Let us open our ears for God’s word to each of us as we are told what it is that the Lord has next for us to do.
Perhaps it is to be involved on the Mission Team and work for social justice here in the Huntington area and beyond. Perhaps it is to lead a Sunday School class every so often and share with children the knowledge of God that you enjoy. Perhaps it is to sing with the choir for Palm Sunday and/or Easter Sunday as we work on music from Godspell and The Messiah. Perhaps it is to come to the Lenten Bible Study series and immerse yourself more fully in God’s Word during this important time of year. Perhaps it is to give your time and talents to an entity outside this community as Cathi Matuza has shared working with CCI on hosting puppies in transition that will become guide dogs later, or as Joyce Makela does also with a different organization but similar work, or delivering “Meals on Wheels” like Ron Fischer or Allan Rogers, or working with Long Island Youth Guidance like Bea Reiser. Or perhaps there is another local organization that calls to you – like Little Flower or the Huntington Station Enrichment Center or tutoring an adult who doesn’t know how to read as our beloved Isabelle Vetter did for many years.
I ask you now, right this very minute, to take a breath, to close your eyes, and to reach into your heart. Let your mind go blank. And listen. Don’t try to interject thoughts or ideas. Just try to be silent. And listen for what comes.
Did you hear a little something? Something that told you what to do next? If not, don’t worry. It is very difficult to listen for God’s word and respond to it. Peter, who lived with Jesus every day for three years, didn’t get it! He was literally there with Jesus at the time and didn’t understand. It takes time. It takes effort and energy and sometimes letting go – the opposite of effort and energy. Believe me, God will come to you when the time is right. And whether that is today or tomorrow or next week or next year, Jesus tells us today to “Get up and be not afraid.” Just as we have gone to the mountain today and seen the transfiguration of the Lord, we are also called to move on. To make our way back down the mountain and into the real world.
As you, as I, as we travel into the real world this week, may we hold on to the glory of the Lord that has shone upon us today. May we not only see it in our minds and our hearts, but may we reflect it to all that we meet. May we come down the mountain a changed people. A people ready to do the will of the Lord.
I will end today with the closing words of the speech of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. that I mentioned earlier. These are words that were ironic in the context of his life, but can be oh, so powerful for us still today. He said:
“Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
We, too, have seen the promised land. We know that God’s kingdom is not one of war and strife, anger and hatred, jealousy and negativity, but one that instead exudes the power of love and forgiveness, justice and mercy, kindness and blessing. We may none of us see it in our lifetimes, but we can be part of its coming. We can take the steps in faith to nurture our own love of God and to extend it to those around us. We can come down the mountain, grateful that we have seen the Lord’s face and move on to share its light with all those around us. I believe this with all my heart. We can and we will. Amen.