Last Epiphany, The Transfiguration - February 26, 2006  

Three men arrive at the Pearly Gates at the same time for their orientation.  St. Peter asks all three the same question.  “When you are lying in your casket, and your friends and family are mourning over you, what would you like to hear them say about you?”

The first man immediately says, “I would like to hear them say that I was one of the great doctors of my time, and a great family man.”

The second man says, “I would like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher who made a huge difference in the children of tomorrow.”

The third man thinks for a moment, and then says, “I guess I would like to hear them say, ‘Look, he’s moving!’”

I suppose it would be nice to think we could always continue to move, but that won’t happen.  At some point we will move from the physical world to the spiritual realm.  We will have our moment of radical change.  In order to help us in that preparation, we come to the Last Sunday in Epiphany; the Sunday of the Transfiguration.

On Wednesday, we will begin our annual observance of Lent.  But before we take our first step on that journey, we are invited to do a little mountain climbing with Jesus.

The physical exercise we might receive from saying yes to this invitation is just a by-product of climbing with Jesus.  The spiritual benefits are the primary focus.  This experience of the Transfiguration is intended for our benefit, but it was also meant to assure the followers, both then and now, that Jesus was on the right track.  Just prior to this event Jesus had shared with the disciples that he had to go to Jerusalem, be rejected by the religious hierarchy, be killed, and be raised to life again after three days.  James, John, and Peter had heard the words but couldn’t understand them at that time.  On the Mount of the Transfiguration Jesus and the inner circle of disciples had the previous conversation verified.  Jesus understood what happened; the inner circle did not.

On the Mount of the Transfiguration Jesus heard that the path he had chosen was the correct one.  Peter, James, and John would not learn until later that their discipleship would also mean a cross.  The Collect for today says, “Grant to us that we, beholding the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross.”  But, very often we are like Peter.  We want Jesus on our terms, acting according to our plan, and accompanying us where we have decided to go.  Like Peter, when we do that, we make two errors of judgment.  The first was in the proposal to stay on the mountain, living above the threats and demands of everyday life.  What Peter saw was that here, at last, was the Jesus of Peter’s dreams; Jesus where he ought to be, on the throne, high and lifted up above it all.  How natural for Peter to wish to remain in such a glowing experience.  But, since Jesus would not stay up there, neither could Peter.  The world was waiting for Jesus, the cross was calling, and obedience to that calling took priority over all else. 

The second error Peter made was in estimating that Moses, Elijah, and Jesus were of equal importance.  Peter had not yet learned that Jesus was the one about whom Moses, Elijah, and the prophets were writing and pointing.

The foolish speech of the disciple was silenced by the voice from heaven that came as the climax of the vision.  “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”  Did you notice there is an exclamation point after the sentence?  This is important stuff!  What is crystal clear here is that there is no other like Jesus.  Listen to him and do what he says to do.

The cloud then separates Peter from Jesus as he speaks, just as it always did when Peter tried to push the picture of the cross away.  That cross would serve as a gate.  Peter would have to go through it; so do each one of us. 

When the cloud had disappeared, they saw no one with them anymore.  Jesus alone remained standing.  He, alone, remained in absolute eminence.  He was left standing as an indication of his supremacy.  It is at the name of Jesus that every knee shall bow, every tongue shall confess, and every soul shall reach its destiny.  His dominion is undivided, his throne unshared, and Jesus is all in all.

So, from the mystery of the Transfiguration a clear challenge come to us all.  The one thing from which we have been created is the doing of God’s will.   Obedience to god’s will may mean sacrifice, self-denial, and the hard road of bending over and voluntarily picking up our own cross.  But, so doing alone brings true joy, peace of life, and abundance.  Attempting to find those things any place, by any other means other than through the cross of Jesus and the voluntary cross of service that each person must take up, will lead to disappointment and death. 

It must not be forgotten that although it is on the mountaintop that we may behold the beauty of Jesus and learn his will for us, it is down in the valley that we are to obey his commands and walk in his footsteps.  We are permitted to gaze on his glory ever so briefly in order that we may be better equipped to take the road to Jerusalem with him. 

Finally, the London Times reported not too long ago about a letter sent by an 11-year old to his mother while he was on vacation with friends in Switzerland.  He wrote, “Dear Mum, yesterday the instructor took all eight of us to the slopes to teach us to ski.  I was not very good at it, so I broke a leg.  Thank goodness it wasn’t mine!  Love, your son, Billy.”

Now, no doubt, that mother had only a limited insight as to what happened on the ski slopes of Switzerland.  We, too, may have only a limited insight in the deepest meaning of the Transfiguration, but it is enough to speak to our hearts and minds and make a difference in the way we live our lives.

The next time you look up and see the clouds shrouding the Peaks of Otter, or climb a hill or mountain, or see something of sheer beauty, or lift your eyes in prayer, may you see Jesus only.  If you do, be grateful for the Transfiguration.  It is but a brief glimpse of the glory that will be revealed in us.  That same voice that announced the Beloved Son to Peter, James, and John will announce and acknowledge us in heaven. 

I pray that at our orientation to eternity we will not wish that the one thing people will say about us is that we are still moving in this world.  What a blessing when we finally accept that this world is not our final home.  Amen.