Awe

I have hiked some mountains in my lifetime.

Certainly not the highest peaks except for Baldy Mountain in New Mexico which was 12,000 feet.

Mostly Connecticut mountains, though.

Large hills if I’m honest.

Okay.

I have hiked some hills in my lifetime but they are hills with pretty views atop steep cliff faces.

And as a New Years resolution, I pledged to take a hike every week for a year.

I mostly hike around Crescent Lake, part of the Hanging Hills trap rock formation in Southcentral Connecticut.

 There’s something like 300 feet of elevation gained in a single somewhat steep incline.

And usually, around once a week, I stand at the base of that incline and think, do I really want to do this?

My thighs will be soon be aflame.

I will be breathing rapidly while out of breath at the same time.

But I made a promise to myself and for the last few weeks, I’ve kept it.

So up the hill I go.

Starting off at a good pace, I get slower and slower.

And slower.

But one foot in front the other, I finally reach the top.

And after all those times at Crescent Lake or on Ragged Mountain on Bethany Mountain or even Baldy Mountain standing high amongst the lower Rockies in New Mexico, I never once saw the glowing visage of Christ.

I was never called to chisel words into tablets by God.

I might have called out of God’s son as I tried to get to the top of a mountain a time or two, followed by the words, “I’m not going to make it” but I’ve never physically seen God or Jesus on a mountaintop.

And it feels like I’m missing out, because a lot of things happen on mountains in the bible.

Moses climbed Mt. Sinai to receive the commandments.

Elijah assembled the Israelites on Mount Carmel.

The Ark landed on Mount Ararat.

And now Jesus, with Peter and James and John, are now themselves atop a tall mountain.

Many things happen on many mountains in scripture.

And this thing that took place, this latest thing, is an interesting one.

Because Jesus was transfigured.

Now, what does this mean, “transfigured?”

We are reading about Jesus being transformed.

Just after Jesus comes down from the mount where he delivered his Servant on the Mount, where he delivered those words most beautiful to me, those words of hopefulness to the meek, the poor, the imprisoned, the suffering.

Those perfect words were spoken, and then Jesus descended the mount to climb a mountain and he was transfigured.

Rather, he was made more beautiful.

The face, the body, the mind, the soul that spoke those words of the Beatitudes were made more beautiful before his three disciples.

His face shone a radiant light, his robes were dazzling white.

Peter and James and John were witnessing Jesus in his perfect form; this was the son of God.

It was just 6 days earlier when Peter told Jesus he knew he was the Messiah, the son of God and out of, I think at least, a sense of love and foreboding, Peter urged Jesus to remove from himself his cup and try to escape the fate of a violent death.

Just six days earlier Jesus told Peter to get behind me Satan.

Just six days earlier Peter and the disciples were walking with a very human Jesus.

And now, six days later, Jesus is transfigured before them showing his true nature as God’s son.

As if that wasn’t enough.

As if having your greatest hopes in this man confirmed.

As if witnessing Jesus as truly the son of God, Elijah and Moses appear.

Now they are no strangers to mountains, we know that.

But why this particular mountain?

Why with Jesus?

Why now.

It seems like this story has become one great big crossover episode during sweeps week back in the eighties, the equivalent of the Dukes of Hazard and the A-Team going on adventures with the Muppets.

But there is a reason for this.

Matthew, some would surmise, is speaking to a Jewish community of Christ believers.

And there are some in that community who expect that Moses and Elijah, the great prophets are to return just as the believe Jesus would return.

The tradition is that no one knows where Moses was buried because he was buried by God and eventually Moses would return.

Malachi predicts Elijah’s return.

So the tradition Matthew is speaking to would understand why it is these three on a mountaintop and exactly these three.

And Peter is so enthralled with this scene taking place before him that he wants to keep it.

Like a butterfly pinned to a board as part of a butterfly collection, Peter wants this beauty to remain, in stasis, unchanging and forever.

Peter would make all of them homes, one each for Moses, Elijah, and Jesus.

Here Peter was not dismissed as Satan.

Here, Jesus was safe and would not face death.

Here was not Jerusalem where Jesus would undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed.

Peter desperately loved Jesus.

All that was happening confirmed to him that Jesus should remain safe.

And then God appeared and the three disciples were afraid.

They bowed before God.

They fell to the ground before God.

And Jesus touched them.

He told them not to be afraid.

They looked up.

Moses and Elijah were gone.

God’s cloud had whisked away.

It was now just Peter, James, John, and Jesus amidst the sparse shrubbery of a mountaintop in Israel.

They began the descent as they were upon the climb up.

Three disciples and their Messiah.

I think about this scene a lot.

I wonder about its meaning.

As I reach the top of one hill, I sometimes wonder what it must have looked like, how beautiful it must have been to witness the Son of God take on the full armor of light.

And what of the exhaustion, the effort it took to get up that mountain, the sore legs, the burning thighs?

How beautiful the relief to see such a scene after so much effort.

And yet, what does this all mean?

Is this just a story written by Matthew for a Jewish community believing in the return of the Messiah in whom they believed?

Or is this a story for all of us?

Well, of course it is for all of us.

Of course, this story is for all peoples.

But then, again, what is the meaning to be found in it?

And for me the meaning is awe.

The unimaginable beauty those disciples witnessed was awe filling.

Perhaps we will never witness such beauty for ourselves.

Perhaps that is our reality.

Perhaps though in our imaginings and perhaps in our faith and perhaps in moments of absolute harmony where things are just so, morning light filtered through a lace curtain creating designs and imagery dancing in a breeze, a moment we wish to keep in stasis forever, we can understand the awe those disciples must have felt.

And from that understanding, awestruck on a mountaintop, a hilltop, with a view upon creation, we can imagine God in creation.

Awe felt in nature, awe felt in beauty.

Awe confirming the all confirming love of Jesus in the midst of everything.

And reflecting that awe, we are transfigured.

Made more beautiful in the light of Christ and each other; God is well pleased.

Amen.