Mountaintops

Transfiguration Sunday
Texts: Matthew 17:1-9; Exodus 24:12-18

Note: This sermon was accompanied by a series of pictures that my wife and I had taken at the summit of Haleakala, Maui, Hawaii that simply ran in the background while I preached this. Follow this link to a page for similar pictures.

As some of you probably know, at the end of October last year, my parents generously flew my family out to visit them on the island of Maui in Hawaii. It was only a week’s stay, but certainly worth the long airplane trip to a warm, tropical paradise in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I’m not sure how many of you have ever been to Maui, but one of the major geographic features on the island is the dormant volcano that makes up the entirety of the east part of the island. In the Hawaiian language, it’s called Haleakala, which roughly translates to “House of the Sun.” It rises more than ten thousand feet above sea-level, and more than 25,000 feet above the sea floor.

It may be all well and good, but what are my family’s travels doing in this sermon? Well… it’s all about mountaintops. We have Moses and a personal encounter with God at the top of Mount Sinai, and we have the three disciples seeing Jesus in a new light on a mountaintop. Special things happen on mountains in the Bible… and having been to the top of one, I can certainly see why. I even brought pictures! (Cue Pictures)

Haleakala is the only place in the world where one can swim in the ocean in the morning, and then be standing on the summit, in the cool, thin air, approximately two hours later. You can literally drive from shore to summit on a paved, well maintained highway. It sort of takes the fun out of mountain-climbing in one sense, but at the same time one can actually get a glimpse of the mystique that mountains had in the Bible. Haleakala is slightly taller than the mountain range of which Mount Sinai is a part, so it’s not that hard to get a sense of what it was like for Moses, or Elijah, or for Peter, James and John in their respective experiences. The majestic stillness of the mountain peak is hard to convey even through these pictures here.

Yet one of the things that become clear is that in comparison to the low-lands that we tend to occupy, the tops of mountains are genuinely another world. One can literally be standing on solid ground, looking down on the clouds… a point of view normally seen out the window of an aircraft. The terrain is rugged, barren, as you can see from the pictures, it looks like we could be standing on Mars… It seems bereft of nearly all life, except a few small plants… some of which are only native to this place. The air is perceptibly thin, and there is a kind of overwhelming quiet that is hard to describe. It’s no wonder that ancient cultures saw mountains as extraordinary places where one could experience God. In their understanding of the world, the mountains were these “thin places” where the barriers between the mortal and divine realm becomes porous. On top of a mountain, heaven seems closer; and the cares and concerns of earth farther away. The mountain offers a place of quiet and peace, of sanctuary or escape. There one cannot help but realize the vastness of the universe, and stand in awe of its Creator. There, it seems as if the world stops spinning, and time stands still.

It is here, in this solitude of the mountain peak that we encounter this last Epiphany moment of the Season. We tend to focus on Peter and James and John, because at least from the way Matthew tells it, it seems written from their point of view. As we learn, mountains are not just places of peace… but it can be quite scary too… if one is afraid of heights, then it can be quite intimidating to be in a place where there is nowhere to go but down… quite rapidly if there weren’t some well-placed fences. Some find the quiet and the solitude uncomfortable.

What drove Jesus to the mountain was the realization that his earthly ministry was nearing an end. The time had come to set his face toward Jerusalem - there to suffer and die. Six days earlier, he had told his disciples about the fate which awaited him in Jerusalem - and about the similar suffering they would have to endure as his followers.

The Gospel of Matthew does not record what took place in the days between Jesus’ announcement of his suffering and the trip up the mountain. But one can imagine that the disciples were confused and frightened. They probably bombarded Jesus with questions, and proposed every conceivable alternative to the way of suffering and death. And when every alternative was rejected by Jesus, a dark silence fell upon the group - as each struggled with his own private doubts and fears. Perhaps troubled, exhausted, and fearful himself, Jesus went up to the mountain to pray - taking Peter, James, and John with him.

Up until this point, the disciples only have an inkling of who Jesus really is. A teacher of considerable wisdom and insight who teaches with unbridled authority about the kingdom of God, but there was something more. Sure, Peter has his suspicions, and had even voiced them… but it was not until this encounter on the mountaintop… removed from their safe, comfortable environment, do they experience something else.
When they really find out, they’re terrified.

On this mountaintop, something extraordinary occurred. Right before the disciples’ eyes, Jesus was transfigured! His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white! Suddenly everything had changed. They literally saw Jesus in a new light.

As his own transformation took place, two other figures also appeared in that glorious moment- Moses and Elijah. Two others that also had a mountain-top experience of God… And Jesus spoke with them.

There is no record of what they said. But they must have encouraged him on his path which would lead him to Jerusalem. Perhaps they reminded Jesus of their own mountaintop experiences - which, like his, were but temporary sanctuaries where they received guidance and strength for the road ahead. Whatever they said, it is clear that, for Jesus, this mountain was like theirs - a momentary respite, rather than a permanent escape from the world.

But the disciples - or at least, Peter - saw things differently. He said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” One can almost hear the thoughts behind Peter’s suggestion: “Here we can capture the moment, commemorate the glory! Build dwellings for people to come to, away from the cares of the world, and see and know the true majesty of Jesus! Surely this is the full revelation of Jesus as the Son of God!”

But God rejected Peter’s plan. A voice in a cloud said simply, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, all three of them fell to the ground in fear - realizing that they were in the very presence of God. But Jesus came and touched them, healing their fear, and raising them up again as if from death itself. And when they looked around, they saw no one on the mountain except Jesus.

The moment of glory had passed. The mountaintop experience was over. And as they made their way down into the valley once again, Jesus charged them to tell no one of the vision until after his resurrection.

Waiting at the foot of the mountain was a young boy, seized and wracked with convulsions. Jesus healed him - and went on his way to Jerusalem, teaching and healing as he went.

For the sake of that young boy - and for our sakes - it was good that the moment on the mountain was not the high point of Jesus’ life. What good would it do us, if our faith in Jesus Christ were limited to commemorating a moment on a mountaintop when the glory of God shone through the face of Jesus?

But Jesus, filled with and transformed by the glory of God, came down the mountain - into the valleys where we live and suffer and die. Jesus came down the mountain to be with us in our suffering, to offer healing, to take our deaths upon himself, and to touch our lives with God’s love.

There are times in our lives as Christians when we, too, are intensely aware of God’s presence with us - moments of prayer, a piece of music, times of insight or comfort, when we are emptied of pain and doubt and despair, and are filled with faith, hope, and peace. Those times are our mountain-top experiences. Like the disciples on the mountain, we, too, long to freeze or preserve the moment, to stay in the heights and forget about the world below, where life and faith are a constant struggle.

That is when we need to listen to Jesus, and to follow him down the mountain. We must let his mountain and ours sustain and encourage us. But we must never forget that the moment we commemorate as Christians is not the dazzling glory of the mountaintop, but the real power of the cross and the empty tomb. That is the moment that accomplished our forgiveness and salvation, and set things right. That is the event that makes possible for us true and lasting communion with God. That is the road that God calls us too to follow - not only because life leads that way, but also because that way leads us to life - new and eternal life in the presence of God. Amen.

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