'Jesus took with him Peter and John and
James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the
appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly
they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and
were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.
Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had
stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as
they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be
here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for
Elijah” —not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and
overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from
the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in
those days told no one any of the things they had seen.'
--Luke 9: 28-36
An icon depicting the Transfiguration.
This past Sunday I saw several confused looks on people's faces in my church. Suddenly our colors changed from green to white. I was wearing the cope (a fancy cape-looking thing), which I only break out on important days. And we read Scripture that most folks were pretty certain we had already heard a few months earlier. The cause of all this confusion was the fact that we were celebrating the Feast of the Transfiguration of Our Lord Jesus Christ, a major feast day in the life of the Church, not unlike Easter, Christmas, or Pentecost. Normally if a feast day falls on a Sunday its commemoration gets booted in favor of that Sunday's observance; after all, each Sunday is like a mini-Easter. However, if the feast is a celebration of a day in the life of Jesus himself, then we celebrate the feast. We hang the colors of the feast day, break out the fancy cape, maybe throw a little incense, and go big (or go home, right?)! As for why the readings sounded so familiar, that's because the story of the Transfiguration is always the Gospel reading on the Sunday
right before the start of the season of Lent. We heard these same readings on February 26, complete with a dynamite sermon by Kristen Southworth, which you can listen to by clicking here . So now you know!
The story of the Transfiguration always makes me think about the mountains. That’s due in large
part to my growing up on a mountain. As a little kid I spent my afternoons running
around in the woods with my dogs, picking blackberries, swinging on our tire
swing, and going for long walks on the
coal mining job site behind our house, which overlooked our little community of
Flat Gap. After high school the mountain
became a sanctuary, a place of retreat from the much busier world; the mountain
was quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. It
became my favorite place in all the world.
View of Flat Gap from the strip job behind the house where I grew up.
In the desert between Galilee and Jerusalem lies Mount Tabor. It isn’t the biggest mountain in the area but
it’s still quite a site to behold, and many archeologists and scholars claim it
as the site of Jesus’ Transfiguration.
When you finally make it to the top of Mt. Tabor you are greeted by the
enormous Church of the Transfiguration, which is kept up by the
Franciscans. Dozens of outdoor chapels
surround it, and just inside the main entrance are two smaller chapels, one
dedicated to Moses, and one dedicated to Elijah, just like what Peter wanted.
When you look out over the Palestinian landscape you can’t help but be
awestruck. It’s a beautiful place, the kind of place that, when you see it, you
don’t want to leave.
View of the Jezreel Valley from atop Mount Tabor and the Church of the Transfiguration
Whether it is Hale Gap Mountain in Virginia, Mount Tabor in Palestine, or
any of the mountains my parishioners so often visit here in North Carolina, there is something about the mountain that
just makes so many of us feel closer to God.
Maybe it is the altitude, or the beauty of creation that we see around
us. Like Peter, many
of us, when we are atop those mountains, we feel so close to God and want only to stay. We don’t want to leave and head back to our
regular lives. It seems only natural;
after all, who WOULD want to give up feeling THAT close to God?
These mountaintop experiences are not limited to geographically high
places, though. Mountaintop experiences
are any of those moments when we feel such an awareness of God’s blessings and
love for us, likes things couldn’t be more perfect, or the world couldn’t be
more beautiful. A graduation, a wedding day, or a new rector joining a church are all examples of such moments. They fill us with such joy and excitement, and we cannot help but echo Peter's exclamation: “Lord it is good for us to be here!" “Let us stay!”
Yet Peter does not get his wish.
The light eventually fades away.
Moses and Elijah depart. Jesus' visage returns to normal. It is time for them to make their way down the mountain and back into the desert towards Jerusalem....and the cross.
The thing about those mountaintop experiences is that eventually we
have to come down, and the high of being
up on that mountain eventually fades. A
graduation is exciting, but soon the graduate has to find a job. Wedding days
are lovely, but then a couple has to learn to live with one another. The arrival of a new rector is thrilling, but
eventually the shine fades and the priest and people have to do the
nitty-gritty work of ministering together.
We have to come down.
In August of 2009, after having lived there on and off for 25 years, I
packed up a van and pulled out of our driveway and said goodbye to the Hale Gap
Mountain. I moved to New York to start
seminary, and shortly thereafter my father and stepmother moved off the
mountain and into the valley on the other side of the county. The very thought of losing the mountain,
losing the long walks with the dogs, the view of Flat Gap, and the feeling of sanctuary al brought me to
tears, especially when I realized I would never be able to go back. Still, had I stayed on that mountain
I never would have been able to live into who God has called me to be; I never
would have had the experiences of New York City; and I wouldn’t be where I am right now. In order for my life to have its
fullest meaning, I had to come down off the mountain.
The last picture of my home on Hale Gap Mountain, taken just before my move in 2009.
We have to come down from our mountaintops, brothers and sisters. We are not meant to live in a continuous
state of excitement and euphoria. Like Jesus and the apostles we have to leave
the splendor of the mountaintop from time to time and walk through the brutal
and unforgiving desert. Nevertheless, the coming
down is not about completely letting go of or forgetting about the mountaintop
experiences, rather it is about learning from them, being transformed by them,
and heading into the unknown valleys and deserts a different person than we were before. I’m sure the apostles’ lives were never the
same after that day on Mount Tabor. Nor
are our lives the same after those mountaintop experiences. My life was forever changed by the mountain, as I am sure your lives are changed by those mountaintop experiences like graduations,
wedding days, or the start of a new ministry.
We may wish we could hang on to those good and joyful feelings all the
time, but it ain’t about that! It’s
about the whole journey, mountaintops and the valleys, the good and not-so-good. It's about having the grace to come down, to be changed
ourselves, so that we can walk through the valleys, and go to our
own Jerusalem, to our own cross. For it is from that place that we can look
back and find meaning in both the mountaintop and valley experiences, seeing our journey as a whole, and becoming the person that God has called us to be. That is the great teaching of this glorious feast day, that the Transfiguration is as much about our own journey as it is that of Jesus.
It's easy to feel close to God when we're on the
mountain and everything is bright and wonderful. It's the great challenge of
our faith to remember that the God we meet on the mountain is also found in the
valleys down below. Some of y'all today
may feel like you're on a mountaintop at this point in your lives. That's
great! Cherish the moment. But I pray
you'll have the courage and grace to remember that you can't always stay there. Meanwhile, some of you may feel like you're down there in the valley, in the bleakest
desert, and you can't even remember ever being on the mountain. I pray
you will remember that Jesus spent more time in the valleys and deserts than he
did on the mountain, and that you may have the grace to remember that he is walking
with you.
That, brothers and
sisters, is good news for not only a major feast day, and everyday.