by Felecia Hensley

Mark 9:2-10

Our text today sits right in the middle of Mark, eight chapters into the story and eight more to go. That’s significant because Hebrew storytellers often used a specific form for telling their stories called a chiasm. Now, we all know that Jesus spoke Aramaic instead of Hebrew, and the author of Mark wrote in Greek, but even though the language changed, the people still held on to their traditional ways of telling their stories. In English literature, the story often builds and builds and builds to a climax, a final conflict, that is resolved just before the story ends. But in Hebrew storytelling, you have a second layer of plot, which starts with a, relatively, simple action or place, then the story builds to the very heart of the meaning of the story, which is right in the center, and then moves back outward in the same number of steps or parallel actions as came in the first part, until it reaches the climax. If you draw it out, it would kind of look like a sideways V.So, when we note that the Transfiguration falls right in the center of Mark’s gospel, we are recognizing what Mark’s original readers would have known instinctively. This event is the core of Mark’s message. It may not be the climax of the story, but it is critical to understanding what Mark is telling us.The other thing to note is that, if you read Mark carefully, you can see that this is the gospel that is focused on the mystery of Christ. Mark asks in a number of different ways, “Who is this Jesus, anyway?” It is in the first half of this gospel that Jesus, over and over again, tells people over and over again, “Don’t tell anyone what I did.” “Don’t say who healed you.” “Don’t reveal what happened to you.” As told in Mark, Jesus doesn’t want anyone to know that he is the Messiah until the time is right. And when is it right? After the transfiguration, because within one chapter of the transfiguration Jesus is riding on a donkey into Jerusalem, surrounded by waving palm branches and allowing the people to celebrate his mission to this world.When we remember that Mark is all about the mystery of Christ, then, we can now see why the Transfiguration is so important. This is where God publicly states, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” True, in Mark’s telling of Jesus’ baptism, God also spoke, but God said, “You are my Beloved son” speaking to Jesus. But here, God spoke to everyone, “This is my son; the Beloved.” Big difference. We go from the private message, to the public one.And how do Peter, James and John respond to the address from God? They are terrified! Not confused, excited, overjoyed, flabbergasted. They are terrified. That should tell us something about God that we seem to try and forget in our buddy God theology of today. God loves us intensely, but God is not our tame pet, personal servant or best friend. God is God, full of mystery and majesty, creator of all things seen and unseen, the ultimate power and reason in all known, unknown, or conceivable universes. God is God.Peter, James and John suddenly understood this in spades. They suddenly understood more about both Jesus and God than they really wanted to know and than they could wrap their minds around.And it’s not like they needed another shock right then. Just six days earlier, Jesus had suddenly started talking about the fact that he was getting ready to leave them. He had started preparing them for his upcoming conviction as a criminal, torture and death in the most painful and scandalous method in the Roman Empire. Everything they cherished, not just Jesus himself but their safety, their reputation, their conviction of their own rightness, was about to be ripped away, and Jesus had begun to try and get them ready for the shock.Just having him talk about such things had been enough of a shock. And then this. It was enough to make a man lose it permanently. But at the same time, how glorious could that have been. Wouldn’t you give anything to have been there—to see Christ shining, to see Moses and Elijah consulting with him, to experience as much of God’s glory as any human being ever had or ever would in this life? Don’t you wish you could have been there and seen it yourself? We spend hours and days searching for small slivers of an experience like that. We go to rallies, concerts, camps, retreats, revivals and even Sunday morning church craving some kind of revelation of God’s glory. We call it a “mountaintop experience,” some tiny glimpse of God that we can hang on to.And, of course, that’s what Peter really wanted with his outburst—just to hang on to the experience as long as he could. With the right enticement—a place to stay—maybe Moses and Elijah would stay. Maybe Jesus would stay here a while and they wouldn’t have to go back down the mountain to face all those horrors that Jesus had been predicting. Maybe this was a way out, and things could stay just as they are.How like us Peter is. We search and search for those mountaintop experiences, and then, what we really want is not to refuel and continue on our path, but just to stay there, where everything is beautiful.But even Jesus didn’t get to stay, although I’m sure he would have liked to. He had a mission to accomplish and what he knew, although, the disciples didn’t, was that this was just a refueling stop on his path. God didn’t come to Jesus here just for a chat. This was what Jesus needed to get him through what lay ahead. The disciples didn’t understand that, but Jesus did. He knew that what we all needed was a savior who lived on a mountaintop, but a savior who suffered like we suffer, a savior who died and took our pain on himself, a savior who, when our life gets tough and it seems that we just can’t face anymore, can stand right there with us saying, “I know. I’ve been there. And I’ll be here, with you.” The savior on the mountaintop may be what we want, but the savior on the cross is what we need.Jesus also understood something else. He understood that faith and relationship with God isn’t a destination on a mountaintop, but a journey. He knew he had a mission to complete that led to the cross, and beyond. He also knew that Peter, James and John also had a mission to complete that led them throughout the known world to their own crosses, their own executions. And Jesus knows that we, too, have a mission to complete.The apostles didn’t want to leave because they didn’t want to face what lay ahead. They didn’t want to go back to the regular world where life seemed like you were either worn out with responsibilities that never seemed to end, or crushed by pain that seemed to great to bear. They knew what waited for them ‘back home,’ at the foot of the mountain, and, like us, they would just as soon stay here, thank you very much.But Jesus knew better. And so, together, they traveled back down the mountain. Together they made it through the days ahead. And together, they all completed their missions.Now this place and time may not be your mountaintop. In fact, I’m sure it’s not because a mountaintop isn’t something that you can predict or expect or plan, like going to church very Sunday. But I hope you can see your mountaintop from here.This place where we come every Sunday can be, and should be, our resting place. The place where, when we come in here, we can let go of everything else:·        the who said what to whom,·        the evaluating and rating,·        the worries about money, status and the future·        the pain and grief that seem to dog our steps sometimes no matter where we go or what we do·        the insecurities·        the negativity·        the compulsion to have everything our own way.This is the place where, once we walk in the door, for one hour, everything else can be released and we can concentrate wholly on God. For just one hour, we can forget about everything else and be healed, recharged, redirected and just loved. While we continue to look for mountaintops, we can stop and rest here.But like the mountaintop, we can’t stay here. This morning we helped Kamden start on his faith journey, and we each took a vow to walk with him and his parents along that journey. His journey has just begun, our continues. We can’t stay here, but we can leave together, walk together, bear each others burdens, and ultimately, complete our missions together. This is the way of faith.

In the name of the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sustainer—the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.