Mark 9: 2-9 (February 19, 2012)

1) The Text

2Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

2) Perspectives/Questions

a. Why does Jesus come back down the mountain?

Here’s a suggestion: pay attention to the dramatic movement of the story. For while Jesus takes his disciples with him up the mountain, after the period of revelation, transformation, and transfiguration, they come back down again. Think of it: Jesus could have stayed there. Perhaps he should have stayed there. After all, this transfigured state, attended by Moses, Elijah, and his three disciples, was much closer to the state of glory that Jesus deserved than what’s coming. Yet he comes back down.
Down. Down into the mundane nature of everyday life. Down into the nitty-gritty details of misunderstanding, squabbling, disbelieving disciples. Down into the religious and political quarrels of the day. Down into the jealousies and rivals both petty and gigantic that color our relationships. Down into the poverty and pain that are part and parcel of our life in this world. Down. Jesus came down.

Why is this important? At least two reasons: First, because I think it gets at the heart of the gospel, Mark’s and, truth be told, that of the whole New Testament. As Paul sings, “though he was in the form of God, he did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness” (Phil. 2:6-7). Jesus’ downward movement from his rightful place in glory to embrace our lot and life out of love is, in a very real sense, the essence the gospel.

Second, and just as importantly, I also have a hunch that, deep down, most of us think Jesus is a little too good for us. That, truth be told, our job is to try our darnedest to become more like him. While that’s a good impulse on one level, on another it can prevent us from being honest. Because no matter how hard we try to be like Jesus — to be, that is, perfect — we know that we fall dreadfully short. As a consequence, we may feel that the most broken parts of our lives are the ones that keep us from being like Jesus and therefore are the farthest things from him.

But this isn’t a story about our going up, it’s a story about Jesus coming down, all the way down into our brokenness, fear, disappointment, and loss. And, of course, it only gets more so, as we will soon watch our Lord travel to the cross, there embracing all that is hard, difficult, and even despicable in life in order to wrest victory from death itself that we might live in hope knowing that wherever we may go, Christ has already been and that where Christ is now we will one day be.

b. Being overwhelmed with joy

When people enter places that completely overwhelm them—such as a grand cathedral or a monumental museum—they tend to gravitate toward the various plaques and placards which dot the walls. The placards which describe this stained glass window, or that work of art. People gravitate towards those things as anchors, so that they don’t emotionally and spiritually sink into the mire. They can’t handle the sheer weight of a soaring vault or work-after-work of Matisse, and so they find the little squares with plain writing on them as a defense mechanism to get them through the experience.

The problem is, of course, that if you spend most of your time with the little square plaques you miss out on the opportunity to truly experience something—something that, if you let it, might end up changing you in some way. Epiphany begins with the Magi arriving at the Christ-child after a long journey. Matthew tells us that once they were there, they were overwhelmed with joy.

I think that’s a great phrase which sums up what the Christian life looks like when it comes nearer and nearer to Christ. We are all meant to be overwhelmed with joy. Overwhelmed at the manger. Overwhelmed at the cross (though perhaps not with joy, per se). Certainly overwhelmed at the empty tomb.

The three disciples, Peter, James, and John, are taken up the mountaintop in Mark 9, and they are indeed overwhelmed! But, not in the same way that the Magi were. The Magi were overwhelmed in the sense that they were filled with wonder. They were awe-struck. Peter, James, and John are overwhelmed in the sense that they are terrified. They are so terrified/overwhelmed that they don’t know quite what to do. They don’t know what to say. Peter wants to build some tabernacles—because…that’s a…good idea…?

The transfiguration is certainly a Christological event—it says something about Jesus. Jesus is at center of it all, and even the pillars of the Hebrew Bible are there to demonstrate that.
But, it’s also a scene which says a lot about the disciples, and thereby discipleship itself. They were taken up the mountaintop, and they had their socks knocked off. AND, they were totally and completely spiritually unprepared for such an experience. They were the tourists being ushered into Notre Dame de Paris, and forsaking the ribbed vaulting and rose window for the cardboard rectangles they couldn’t read anyway.

There’s something that separates the Magi from the inner-circle of the disciples here. And, it’s something we need to latch onto. It’s something that we need to spiritually work towards. So that when Jesus takes us somewhere to completely blow our mind with the grandeur and grace of Almighty God, we’re ready. We’re prepared. And, we’re overwhelmed—not with fear— but with joy and wonder in all God’s works.

c. Listen to Him!

I believe this text is exactly what we need to hear today. The scene is set on a mountain top.

There are very few mountain top scenes in the Bible: all of them are literally awe-some – they all involve people meeting God. The first is the scene in which Abram takes his beloved son to Mt. Moriah, and is willing to sacrifice him there. God’s voice intervenes; Isaac is spared. The covenant continues (Gen. 22).

The second mountain top scene is Moses, on Mt. Sinai. After crossing the Red Sea to escape the pursuing Egyptian army, Moses leads the newly freed people to the base of the mountain. It is covered in a thick cloud. Moses ascends the mountain, and after six days, the Lord spoke to Moses (Exod. 24:16). Moses comes down and proclaims “Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God; the Lord is One.” (Deut 6:4)

The third mountain top scene is the one in which the great prophet Elijah is waiting to catch a glimpse of God; he was not in the wind storm nor in the earthquake, but Elijah heard his voice in the sound of sheer, awesome silence. (1 Kings 19:11, ff.)

Do you hear the echoes of those mountain top scenes in the text of Mark? The timing, after six days, the mountain itself, the cloud, the voice, the beloved son, the command to listen to him, all come together, along with presence of Moses and Elijah.
The fear on that mountain top is another shared similarity: Peter is terrified, as he must be, in the presence of God’s glory. Jesus is there, just as the voice of God says, as the beloved son, the prophet like Moses that had been long promised. Listen to him! says the voice from the cloud.

Jesus’ clothing is transformed – it becomes dazzling white. There is something ultimate and final about that description, as if something has been achieved that cannot ever be superseded. The vision is being fulfilled: the final act is now being played. This is it!

All of these images are gathered up together on that mountain top: the significance is clear. Jesus is God’s fulfillment of the promise, the covenant with Abraham. He is the one whose voice we must hear; he is the one who speaks with God’s authority.

This is why we need this text today. You are going to go home, and just like me, by this time tomorrow you will have heard a lot of voices clamoring for your attention.

Here is the point: in the text we have before us, we see Jesus, on that mountain top, in the cloud of God’s presence, shinning in dazzling white like the Ancient of Days, hearing the voice of God almighty saying: “this is my beloved Son; listen to him.”

This is not a suggestion; this is our mandate. We are obliged to listen to Jesus; to learn what Jesus said and is saying and what it means today. This is a challenging text, but it is also deeply helpful for times like these. This time of national and world crisis may be a clarifying time in our lives; a time in which we re-examine our values and consider what has been consuming our time and energy. Maybe this is the time to make a change; break some old habits; acquire some new ones. Start putting yourself within range of his voice more so that we can listen to him.