“Blinded By the Light”
Text: Matthew 17:1-9
Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Today’s Gospel reading, the Transfiguration of our Lord, is one that takes us to the top of the mountain. “Jesus took with Him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.” This inner circle of disciples is probably thinking that Jesus is taking them on another little trip to reveal some truth to them as He’s done a number of times before. They must realize that it’s a little more special as He’s chosen them to go with Him without the crowds that usually accompany them. But they couldn’t have realized what profound truth Jesus was about to let them in on. I’m sure that they weren’t prepared for the fullness of the glory of the Lord that they saw when they reached the top of that mountain. “And He was transfigured before them, and His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became white as light.”
It would be natural to focus on that experience and how it affected those three men, but if that’s all we looked at we’d be missing the other, less dramatic, aspects of this text. When Jesus shows the disciples His glory in this way, He’s not just giving them an experience that will last for the short time that they’re on the mountain. He’s giving them something that they can take with them throughout the rest of their lives. Something they’re to pass along. As they’re blinded by the light of Christ’s glory, one lesson they’re learning is how to take that mountaintop experience and bring it with them back down from the mountain. It’s a message we need to take to heart as well because
COMING DOWN FROM THE MOUNTAIN IS OFTEN THE TOUGHEST PART OF OUR JOURNEY.
I imagine that many of you have probably been watching some of the Olympic Games this past week. Skiers and snowboarders flying through the air and doing twists and flips that turn your stomach just watching them. Bobsleds, lugers, and skiers flying down the hill at upwards of 100 miles per hour. And then if you watch for long enough, you can catch a glimpse of their trip back up the hill. And it’s not nearly as spectacular. A leisurely ride up in a gondola or an elevator to the top of the hill seems like such a contrast to the breakneck speeds and death-defying ways in which they come back down.
You’ve heard me talk about my hiking trips up the White Mountains in New Hampshire or my roller blading adventurers on the hills of Central Park. And when I told you about those trips I mentioned the views from the top and the sense of accomplishment at having made it all the way to the summit. But what you probably remember most about those stories is the epic failures on the way down. The severely sprained ankle on the way down the trail from the top of Mount Washington. Or the out-of-control roller blading ride that landed me in the fountain in Central Park. Or the run down the Olympic mogul training course on Whiteface Mountain in Lake Placid that became the cause of my knee surgery 20 years ago.
And isn’t that what we remember the most about the Olympics too? Sometimes the things that are the most memorable aren’t the record-breaking runs of flawless execution, but rather the epic failures resulting in such spectacular crashes that we just can’t get them out of our minds. I think the reason we remember these parts of the story so well is that they mirror our own journey.
We’d like to think that when Jesus brings us to the top of the mountain and reveals to us His glory that it would be such a lifechanging experience that we’d live our lives differently from that point on. Like being here and experiencing the Word and Sacraments, a high that quite frankly is only overshadowed by the glory of eternity with Christ. We’d like to think that this would change our lives in ways that we’d never go back to who we once were. But we’re just like the disciples. The glory of the Lord can overwhelm and confuse us in the same way it did to them. Peter’s first response to having seen the transfigured Christ is to say to Jesus, “Lord it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” As if Jesus needed His disciples to construct lodging for Him and the representatives of the Old Testament Law and Prophets.
We often get confused about what Jesus wants or needs from us as well. Whenever I read this passage I think about a line from the sermon preached at my father’s funeral all the way back in 2001. One of the things that people knew about my dad was that he was an excellent woodworker and had designed and built the house we lived in for much of my childhood. So, the pastor said in the sermon that my father must be up in heaven helping to build those mansions that are being prepared for everyone who has faith. It was a sweet line, connecting my father’s life and his faith, but it always struck me as a little bit odd. Because God doesn’t need my dad’s construction help any more than He needs our participation in our salvation. He’s in control. He’s got it taken care of. The work of Christ on the cross is all sufficient.
Which is why our Heavenly Father interrupts Peter to remind him of who it is that he’s seeing in all His glory. He repeats the words we heard at the beginning of the Epiphany season in Jesus’ baptism, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” The voice so terrified the disciples that “they fell on their faces.” But Jesus doesn’t leave them there in their fear. “Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Rise and have no fear.’ And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.”
You’d like to think that once those disciples saw Jesus there, standing alone, that they’d have no trouble coming down from the mountain and living lives free from distraction and trouble and fully focused on the One they’d seen transfigured before them. But it’s just not the case. They all continued to have moments of doubt. Peter denied that he even knew who Jesus was. And all of them deserted Jesus in His darkest hour. Even in the very moment He was hanging on the cross dying for the very sins they were in the midst of committing.
Our journeys down the mountain look quite similar. You’ll leave this place today having experienced the same kind of life altering encounter with Jesus. He’s forgiven you of every sin you’ve ever committed. You’ll soon receive the physical reminder of that forgiveness in His very body and blood. And yet your journey down from this mountain will often look like one of my epic failures. Or one of those Olympic skiers whose crash is so magnificent that you just can’t turn away from. Instead of reveling in the glory we’ve seen, we too often fall back into our sinful ways. Treating others with contempt instead of love. Caring more for ourselves than for our relationships with others, or even our Lord Himself. Neglecting to apply His Word to our lives and going our own ways.
But the beautiful thing is that Jesus will continue to do for us what He did for Peter and James and John. As we’re lying on the ground, blinded by the sin that so easily entangles us and the transgression that but a divide between us and Him, Jesus will reach down and touch us and remind us that He’s in control. Even in control of our out-of-control lives barreling down the hill with no brakes or ability to slow ourselves down. And He’ll pick us back up and set us back on top of that mountain where we can again see the fullness of His glory through the forgiveness of sins and His power over sin, death and the devil.
The posture of those disciples, face down and in need of Jesus to lift them up out of their fear and sin and inability to act or speak on their own is a great reminder to us of where we find ourselves. And of what God will do when we find ourselves there. He will lift us up. And when He does may our eyes also be fixed firmly on Jesus, who calls us to deliver the message of His glory to the world around us. And what a wonderful season we enter into this week to do just that. Lent is a time to fix our eyes on Jesus and the road He walked for us. And an excellent time to remind the world, through our words and actions, of the salvation accomplished at the cross and celebrated on the other side of Lent in the resurrection on Easter Sunday. And remember, He doesn’t send you down from this mountain alone. He walks with you, to guide and strengthen, comfort and uplift you, everywhere you go. Amen.
The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
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