March 6 -- Transfiguration Sunday

Grace to you and peace…

Transfiguration Sunday. Jesus picks a few disciples and takes a hike up a mountain. Wasn’t he just on a mountain for, like, six weeks? Ever since those early Epiphany texts, Jesus has been on the mount preaching his sermon, teaching his listeners about the beatitudes, loving our enemies, speaking on divorce and not worrying, trusting God above all else. Now he’s up on a different mountain.

In Scotland (and other mountainous regions) there’s this activity known as “peak bagging”. My brother talks about this in the Pacific Northwest and Colorado and Alaska as well. It’s a subculture of serious hikers who take great joy and pride in “bagging” as many mountain peaks as they can, ticking off the summits they’ve conquered like a checklist. Is Jesus a peak bagger? From one mountain to the next this season?

Some of our worship resources hint that we, the faithful, are peak baggers too these days, although I’m using that term. As we journey through our church year, we (at least figuratively) stand today on this Transfiguration peak between Advent-Christmas-Epiphany [on this side] and Lent-HolyWeek-Easter [on that. Welcome again to another mountain top, sisters and brothers in Christ!

I couldn’t help but remember so very fondly, the literal mountain top experience, the peak bagging a few of us did—thanks to you—last summer on our HS backpacking trip out of Rainbow Trail Lutheran Camp. Chelsea Hale, Austin & Teri Potts, Julia and Olivia Taylor, Christy Sorenson, and myself backpacking in Sangre de Cristo Mountians in southern Colorado. The literal summitting experience is like no other, so I understand the impulse of the peak baggers. It is such a rush to get that high and look over the top to the beauty of next valley and the 360degree panorama. Olivia was the first to peak, and I remember finding her, when I made it myself a few minutes later, just screaming with joy and pride and wonder at the beauty. “Yes! Yes! Woohoo!!” Arms held high to the clouds. What a gift those few minutes were. (We got off the peak and shared prayer and Holy Communion shortly after…)

Jesus ascends the mountain peak today. And the disciples experience something of a peak bagging rush.

But only a few of them.

Not everyone makes it to the peak.

And it strikes me that even those of us who have climbed literal mountains might feel a little left in the valley when it comes to experiencing the revelation and the joy, the fear and promise, the full drama of the Transfiguration story. Some among us have “mountain top experiences” in our lives to speak of – moments when it’s like Jesus literally puts his hand on our shoulders and our fears subside, or we hear the voice of God booming like thunder and we have clarity. If you have had “mountain top” experiences like this, and can call those up immediately, thank God for them. May they continue to breathe Gospel joy and hope into your lives, as even just the memories of those moments can be so powerful!

But every year this story comes up, I can’t help but get a little suspicious, maybe even a little jealous, and think, “Hey, what about the rest of us down here who struggle to see and know and experience that kind of majesty, that kind of Jesus shining bright?”

I like singing “Shine Jesus Shine”, and I know it’s a favorite for many of you too, but sometimes I really struggle to trust that Jesus is truly out there, or up there, somewhere shining.

What does the Transfiguration story really mean those of us who Jesus certainly loves, but, for whatever reason, never made it to that mountain peak, never got that clear invitation, or if we got it—for whatever reason—we didn’t take Jesus up on it and go? [pause]

The best part of this story is that Jesus descends the peak. He doesn’t stay up there, thanks be to God. The disciples who were with him wanted to stay up there. But Jesus commands them to come back down too. He doesn’t leave them up there. Jesus comes back down, with them, and re-enters the valleys.

There’s really something here in this text for everyone, I think. In the moments we feel like the clarity of Christ and his love and his resurrection message are all ours, Christ bids us return. In so many ways, he puts his hands on our shoulders, his body and blood in our hands, and says, “Settle down, don’t be afraid, let’s go back down now together.” The rare mountain top experience can be so overwhelming, making so exposed to the elements, the sun, Jesus, shines so brightly, the wind, the Spirit, nearly knocks you over. Too much joy and fear to even handle. And that’s when Jesus says, “Settle down, don’t be afraid, let’s go back down now together.” [pause]

And in moments when we can’t even see the mountain peak, much less climb up it, when we never heard Jesus’ invitation to go with him up the trail. In seasons when we feel stuck in our valleys and swamps, when it seems that only a few others are getting to the top with Christ, and while we might be happy for them, it sure can be depressing down here. Well, the Transfiguration story is for the valley dwellers too. The peak baggers aren’t the only ones who experience Christ’s healing hand, for Jesus always returns. Amen? He’s not interested in bagging peaks, he’s interested in feeding you, and in feeding the poor, clothing the naked, visiting the sick. Jesus comes back down the mountain and brings his disciples along with him, clumsy and confused as they (we) might be, their intentions are good too.

Sometimes we’re following him down from the top, and other times we’re waiting at the bottom. Where do you experience Jesus today? Either way, there is peace in his presence and the promise of his endurance and love. Either way, there is a voice that says “Be not afraid.” Either way there is new life…for Jesus always comes back down. Jesus’ movement is always down, either to take you with him back down or to come to your side in darkness. Jesus’ arm is around our shoulders, Jesus’ hand lifts us up. He always moves back down to inspire us (that is, to breathe life into us) to inspire us…with a passion and a compassion for others in this world who are also so deep in the valleys of pain and despair. If you haven’t felt it yet, you will, in this bread and cup, in this water. Jesus is transfigured here and now too. His “figure is changed”, his “shape moves across” and through this world. Jesus’ life is offered to us this day and forever, for Jesus always comes back down. Thanks be to God. AMEN.