TEXT:
Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for You and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” For he did not know what to say, for they were terrified.
Mark 9:5, 6 (ESV)
It has often been observed that we live in a very mobile society. There was a time long ago when a family had one automobile if they were lucky; today it’s not unusual for a family to have more cars than it does drivers. When I was in elementary school, growing up in the Baltimore area, it was a big deal for us to go on a field trip to Washington, D. C. or Annapolis or Gettysburg (We went by bus); today it’s not uncommon for students to take a field trip outside of the country and to get there by plane. When I was a child Sunday afternoons were spend just lying around the house recovering from that big dinner (and if we really got bored we’d take an exciting ride to the cemetery!); nowadays anything more than a few hours at a time spent at home is thought to be almost tragic. Times certainly have changed. As we have acquired the capacity to get around more, sitting still just doesn’t seem to have any appeal to us anymore.
The people of God have always been people on the move. The ancient people of God, the Israelites, were a pilgrim people. They were instructed to eat the Passover, the greatest feast of the year for them, “with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste” (Exodus 12:11). They were eat it in such a way that, even as they ate, they were ready to depart at any moment on the journey to freedom. In the wilderness they were told to live in portable tents, not permanent shelters, because they wouldn’t be staying in any one place for very long. For the first three centuries of the Church’s life there were no permanent church buildings because of persecution. We see this same mobility in this morning’s Gospel. Peter desires to build shelters for his Lord and the Old Testament saints who appeared with Him on the mountain, but as the text itself makes clear, the apostle spoke nonsense, for he was speaking out of fear and amazement. No matter how smart we are, we have a lot in common with Peter at the transfiguration.
In the first place, we are like Peter in that having seen the glory of Christ, we are frozen in time. No matter how prepared we may think we are, the glory of Jesus Christ always manages to catch us off guard. Even the faithful disciple is amazed when the Lord’s glory is revealed. Remember how surprised the followers of Jesus were that first Easter morning when they saw their Lord alive? And remember how we like to comment that they shouldn’t have been surprised--that they should have known that He would rise from the dead? But, in all honesty, how would you or I have reacted? How do we react today when we pray for something and then see our request granted? The truth is that we are just as surprised. We act as if we don’t really expect God to hear our prayer or to answer. We confess in the creed that we believe in the resurrection of the body, so why do we approach death with such trepidation? We say that we believe in the forgiveness of sins, so why do we find it so difficult to forgive or to ask forgiveness of others?
Perhaps the reason why we have such a hard time with all of this is the same reason why Peter had such a hard time with the transfiguration: the glory of God revealed in Christ is always so much more and so much greater than anything that we could ever imagine. We spend billions in a desperate attempt to ward off the inevitability of death, but Jesus teaches us that we overcome death simply by dying. We exert an tremendous amount of time and energy on retribution--trying to even the score with those who’ve offended us, but Jesus shows us that the only effective way to be done with sin is to forgive it--freely and completely. We make the pursuit of material wealth our number one priority in life, but Jesus shows us that the way to be truly rich is to be free from the slavery of greed. In so many ways we miss out on the glory of Christ simply because it is far greater than anything that we can imagine.
Something else that we have in common with Peter is that, having experienced the glory of Christ, we want to remain frozen in time. In so many ways we want to savor the glory of our Savior at the expense of reflecting His glory to the world. It shows even in the way we talk. If someone were ask us later today what we did this morning, I suspect that most of us would probably say: “I went to church.” Did we really? If this is church--the hour a week that we spend in this sanctuary, does that mean that our worship of Christ ceases as soon as we walk out that door? Do you really think that the best way to worship your Savior is to stay here in this sanctuary and never leave? It sounds ridiculous, but that is precisely what Peter had in mind at the transfiguration. Having seen the glory of his Lord and having experienced Jesus’ glory confirmed by Moses and Elijah, Peter didn’t see any reason why he should leave that mountaintop. “Let’s just stay here,” he said in effect. “Let’s savor it.” There was something otherworldly about the transfiguration, just as there is something otherworldly about our public worship. You don’t see people out on the street dressed like this and you’re not likely to hear any of the music that we use here on a popular radio station. To come into this gathering is to step out of the busyness and frustrations of everyday life for a little refreshment from the Gospel of Christ and the fellowship of His people.
But what goes on here is really only the tip of the iceberg. What goes on here is something to strengthen you and to reassure you as you leave this place to really worship Him. Do you know how the Bible defines genuine worship? Listen to these words from Paul’s Letter to the Romans: “Therefore, my brothers, I implore you by God’s mercy to offer your very selves to Him: a living sacrifice, dedicated and fit for His acceptance, the worship offered by mind and heart. Adapt yourselves no longer to the pattern of this present world, but let your minds be remade and your whole nature thus transformed. Then you will be able to discern the will of God, and to know whatis good, acceptable, and perfect” (Romans 12:1, 2 NEB). Real worship takes place in the real world. It takes place when you love as you have been loved, when you forgive as you have been forgiven, when you share with others the same Good News of salvation in Christ that you have received.
The Lutheran theologian George Forell has written, “We never ARE Christians in the sense that now we’ve made it and we can rest on our laurels. In a sense, we are always BECOMING Christians.” There is a lot of truth in that. As Christians we are people on the move. We have moved out of judgment into grace, out of sin into righteousness, out of death into life. But it doesn’t stop here. We need to move on from grace to glory, from righteousness to holiness, from life to everlasting life. We are people who began a great journey of faith when we were baptized in the Savior’s name--a journey that will not end until we close our eyes in death, falling asleep in His loving arms and claiming the victory that He has gained for us with His own blood. Until then, He is and will be with us to guide us and to strengthen us along the way.
Amen.
May the God who caused light to shine out of darkness cause you to increase and abound in love toward one another and toward all people, as His love abounds for us; and may the glory of His Son be manifested to you and in you, that you may be witnesses to all nations now and until the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful, and He will do it. Amen.