Neill Morgan
Sermon Dated February 19, 2007
Luke 9:28-43
28Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32Now 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. 33Just 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. 34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36When 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.
37On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. 38Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. 39Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. 40I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” 41Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” 42While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father.
43And all were astounded at the greatness of God.
Life Is Like That
When I was in Junior High, my friends and I sat in the second to last row during worship. The very last row was the territory of the Senior High Youth group, and we knew better than to trespass.
From that second-to-last row, my friends and I heard some extraordinary preaching from a pastor named David Uhl. And, of course, being Junior High students, we were always quiet, still, and attentive. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
In fact, we listened so attentively that we began to notice certain phrases that Dr. Uhl used in almost every sermon. “Indeed, that is true for us” was one, and another that we knew indicated that the sermon was about to conclude was this: “Life is like that.”
That phrase was so dependable that we, being adolescent boys, created a game. At the beginning of the service, each of us wrote down a time on a slip of paper: 11: 41, or 11:43, or 11:49, and then synchronized our watches.
When Dr. Uhl got to the point in the sermon when he had finished his final illustrative story, he would say, “And life is like that.” All of us on the second-to-last row, having been listening for that phrase for the whole sermon, would look at our watches, and whoever was closest to predicting the time would raise his fist in the air and say, “Yes!”
Dr. Uhl would look over at us, puzzled, and the rest of us would say, “Amen!”
I don’t remember all the sermons he preached, or all his stories, I do remember a few and some of you would recognize them now because I’ve told them from this pulpit. But, I remember sitting and waiting, listening attentively for the phrase “Life is like that,” all through Dr. Uhl’s sermon on the transfiguration, and it never came.
I think it never came because, for all of Luke’s down-to-earth storytelling, there is nothing in our lives that is analogous to the transfiguration experience. We preachers have tried to draw analogies: Mountaintop experiences like Synod Youth workshop or the Mission trip or Youthquake or worship on the top of the mountain at Mo Ranch with the river winding below and a hawk soaring on the thermals above the valley at eye our level, behind the cross.
We who have worshiped for more than a few years in retreats, conference centers, and outdoor sanctuaries have had some moving and wonderful worship and mission experiences.
But, they’re nothing like the transfiguration Luke describes. Not really.
When we preachers try to make some experience of our own “just like those disciples,” we are like Peter, whose words “let’s make three booths, one for you, one for Elijah, and one for Moses,” were rather silly when Luke repeated them. He had to explain, “Peter had just awakened, so he didn’t know what he was saying.” Luke is rather kind.
The point of the passage is that there is no parallel. The question, “Who is Jesus?” runs all through Luke, and people continually come up with inadequate answers. In the beginning of this chapter, King Herod wonders who Jesus could be. “I had John the Baptist put to death – is he back?” And, of course others wonder if he could be Elijah, the prophet Malachi promised would return before the Messiah came. Only Peter had said so far, to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the anointed one, the Christ, the Son of God.”
And, after confessing this, he could not hear what this meant when Jesus said that being the Messiah meant he would be put to death. “No,” Peter says, “let me tell you who you are and what that means.”
Jesus transfigured on the mountaintop, in dazzling light, with Moses and Elijah appearing and then disappearing before him, pulls all the ancient imagery of God’s glory and presence together in one place: Fire on the mountain, a cloud, a voice, dazzling light, Moses the bearer of the law, and Elijah the prophet.
However inadequate words are to explain their experience, one thing we hear loud and clear: the veil was briefly withdrawn between mere human experience and the transcendence of God. This Jesus they had experienced as an extraordinary human being was now revealed as being God the Son, One with the Father and the Spirit.
Peter says something silly, and James and John, Luke tells us, were silent. In the face of such a dazzling revelation, there was nothing to say.
When we preachers try to make analogies and speak of some pleasant and moving worship experience on the top of a mountain, with the breeze blowing gently, especially through our hair, and nature revealing the gentle kindness of our Creator, we have to ignore a key phrase in this passage: the disciples were terrified.
This mountaintop experience was not pleasant at all. They were exhausted, fighting off sleep. In Peter’s case, he was scared silly; and, in the case of James and John, they were scared speechless.
And, though the dazzling clothes and bright light anticipates the resurrection, Luke tells us what Jesus and Moses and Elijah discussed: They discussed Jesus’ departure, his exodus, his death.
And when they came down from the mountaintop experience, they were not inspired, revved up, and spiritually empowered. They were debilitated. All the spiritual power Jesus had given them to heal and cast out the power of evil was gone. The man with the son foaming at the mouth had asked the disciples to cast out this unclean spirit and they were powerless; Jesus stepped forward and lamented their faithlessness even as he healed the boy.
The power of the passage, then, comes not from this imposed idea that after the uplifting mountaintop experience we have to come down to earth for mission and ministry: Luke says just the opposite here: The experience of God is so awesome that the effect on us is fright, exhaustion, and a total sense of helplessness in God’s presence. Whenever we think God’s purpose is to strengthen us to be able to do the things we want to do, the gospel offers a humbling objection.
The transcendent presence of God is not strengthening at all. In the presence of God, we would become a puddle of trembling mush.
When we find strength for ministry, it’s not because we have called upon God to help us carry out our agenda and God has chosen to get on board. It works in the opposite direction. We find strength for ministry when we have listened and discerned God’s agenda, God’s mission, and we have answered that call.
Here’s the good news of this story: When we are a puddle of trembling mush, when we are frightened into silence, when we are so confused we have nothing to say – that is precisely when we are ready for God. When we have failed the god of self-reliance that our culture holds in such high esteem; when we have done everything to help ourselves and the lord of self-reliance has failed to step up to the plate; when we have run out of our own strength, when our own confidence is drained, when we have nothing but our doubt and fears – that’s a sure sign that we are ready to depend on God rather than ourselves.
Well, there I’ve said it, and I think when I said “Here’s the good news,” one of the youth looked at his watch and said, “Yes!”
So, now that I’ve had my say, it’s time for me to step out of the way that all of us can keep silence in the presence of a Holy and Awesome God.
Let us pray. (Silence.) God, help us to diminish in self-delusion, in any thought that we could set your agenda. Help us, when we read and study your word in Scripture, when we pray for your guidance, when we join in community with other disciples, to listen for you more than the sound of our own voices; to follow you more than the desires of our own hearts; to depend upon you more than our own strength. In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.