Last Sunday of Epiphany, Year B
We’ve all heard the term “mountain top experience” and probably at some point in our lives we’ve had some kind of encounter that left us speechless. Those times in life when it felt like heaven and earth were close together and you felt transcended into another space where everything was just a little brighter, the creation of the world amazed you, or an event occurred that just seemed like something from another world. If you’ve ever climbed an actual mountain before, you can understand why spiritual highs in our lives are referred to as “mountain top experiences.” Climbing a high mountain takes perseverance. The landscape changes, things start getting pretty bare as you near the top, the incline gets steep, the wind blows harder and you’re a lot more exposed to the elements at the top. About half-way up you think you’re never going to make it and the blisters on your feet really hurt. But when you reach the summit and can see the world for miles in a 360 degree radius, the absolute awe of God’s created world leaves you stunned. You are so small on top of the world and the presence of God in all the awe one can muster is so very real. And then… you’ve got to come down the mountain and return to your everyday life and it is so difficult to adequately explain what you have just experienced.
This last Sunday before Lent we find Peter, James, and John, on a mountain with Jesus. Throughout the Old and New Testament, when anyone is on a mountain it means something of spiritual significance is taking place. Mountaintops represent the thin places. Ancient Celts talk about this a lot. Where the veil between heaven and earth is so thin you are in two places at once. Where you pray and seem to be speaking with God directly.
What Peter, James, and John witnessed that day on the mountain was something so out of this world they were terrified. The veil wasn’t just thinned, it was gone and they were witnessing a scene taking place from another place, something so far beyond comprehension that they were too frightened to know what to say or do. Peter, always impulsive, just starts babbling about building something to contain the holy visitors before them. Isn’t that like us humans? We see something sacred and we want to claim it for our own or contain it somehow. But the sacred isn’t for owning, just like a mountain top isn’t for us to own. The Holy Spirit will not be contained.
Peter, James, and John were filled with wonder, full of awe. These days we have taken the word “awesome” to mean something “really cool.” Eddie Izzard has a routine where he mocks Americans for saying “awesome” all the time–like, oh man, that hot dog was awesome! He points out that if the hotdog were awesome, the one who ate that hotdog would have been so overwhelmed with the vastness of the taste and smell and the overpowering presence of the hotdog that they were filled with such wonder that it took their breath away! In my family we have a joke now when someone says–that’s awesome, we reply–you mean like a hotdog?!
Peter, James, and John were witnessing an encounter with the divine that truly fit the definition of awe. Jesus transforms before their eyes and speaks to prophets that had lived ages ago. There was glory and dazzling brightness and they heard a voice say, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” This point in Mark’s gospel lies halfway between the point of his baptism where a voice from heaven said, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased,” and Jesus’ execution where the Centurion who witnesses Jesus draw his last breath proclaims, “Truly this man was God’s Son!” These are the three times when Jesus’ true identity is told in Mark.
Peter, James, and John were invited to this mountaintop to bear witness to the divinity of Jesus Christ. Bearing witness to something beyond their understanding of God. Bearing witness for all people to the incarnate God on earth. An awesome revelation that is hard to fathom. In three days, on Ash Wednesday, we will be reminded of our own mortality, being marked with the dust of ashes. Like how small we are on a mountain in the presence of God’s creation. Lent is a time for prayer and reflection. Recapturing a sense of the awe of God is important for us in the church at this time. In our western culture today we have trivialized God. We have reduced our understanding of God to a meme like reducing our understanding of awe to the enjoyment of a hotdog.
In this moment of Jesus being transfigured before his inner circle of friends, the disciples did not understand and were terrified of what they couldn’t comprehend. And in this moment, they heard a voice say–”listen to him!” This was a message specifically for the three disciples because they were to take this message back to the others, even though Jesus tells them to wait to say anything. A message that would continue to be told two thousand years later.
In a world that is divided and fractured, these words are echoing down that mountain to us today, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Listen to him. When voices are coming at us from all angles, the news, social media, friends, and family, people standing on the street corner yelling condemnations, we can often wonder what in the world is the truth, what are we to do. Listen to Jesus. When you are confused about how to respond to issues in our communities, our churches, and our world, listening to Jesus and re-centering ourselves in the things he repeatedly demonstrated and taught to his followers is where we start. Mark portrays Jesus as a teacher, a liberator, a healer, and a miracle worker. We follow a Messiah who cares about the suffering, the poor, and people trapped by systems that oppress.
Peter, James, and John came down from that mountain confused and still unclear about things, with the words of “Listen to him” ringing in their ears and the awe of what they witnessed. Walking back into their everyday lives not realizing that they too were transformed. Coming down that mountain would take them all the way to the cross and resurrection before they understood.
High on the mountain, in a moment of numinous splendor, Jesus was indeed clothed in the dazzling light of God. Would that we could display such reverent mystery in our proclamation, and in our attempts to follow in his way! Each Sunday is an opportunity for us to listen to Jesus through the words of the Gospel and gather at the table to remember Jesus’ death and resurrection, another thin place where God invites us to God’s table as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet which has been prepared for all people, as we look forward to the coming of God’s Kingdom. Each time the bread and wine are blessed through the power of the Holy Spirit, we are in the presence of a moment where heaven and earth meet. THAT, my friends, is awesome.
Mountaintop experiences do not happen very often and when they do, we usually can’t truly understand or express what our hearts and souls feel. They point to something in the present but are fully revealed to us at later times when God’s plan comes to fruition. Much like the disciples, we may find the presence of the divine terrifying, confusing, and we may awkwardly try to figure out what we are supposed to do–like throw up a tent! But take heart, we will often fumble at divine encounters, we don’t really know what to do with awe. But Jesus stayed with them, he was there in the thin place and still with them when they had to walk back down the mountain. They listened to him and followed him all the way to Jerusalem. We will, too during Lent. We will follow Jesus to Jerusalem all the way to the cross. It was not until the Resurrection that the transfiguration experience on the mountain made any sense at all to Peter, James, and John. So, I think the message for us is, Listen. Remember Jesus walks with us all the way, on the mountaintops and in the valleys. Remember the true awesomeness of God’s work in this world. Jesus is the Son of God. Listen to him.
Magdalena's Musings 