Staying on the Mountain, Or Not

Staying on the Mountain, Or Not

Scripture: Mark 9:2-9

Years ago when I was practicing law in downtown Seattle I had a corner office on the 66^th floor of the tallest building in the city. I had spectacular views of the Cascade Mountains to the east and Mount Rainier to the southeast. One winter morning I got to the office early. I looked out my window to the east. I saw a spectacular sunrise over the Cascades. It was a bright clear morning. The Cascades were covered in snow. As the sun came up behind them the sky turned vivid pinks, oranges, and reds. I thought I’d just sit down and enjoy the view for a couple of minutes before beginning work. After what I thought was just a few minutes I looked at my watch. Forty-five minutes had passed, minutes of which I had no memory, indeed minutes of which I had not been consciously aware. That experience, I think, sheds some light on the New Testament story for Sunday, March 3, the story of the Transfiguration. So let’s take a look at that story.

It’s one of those famous New Testament stories that comes up in one version or another every year in the Revised Common Lectionary. This year the Revised Common Lectionary gives us Luke’s version, but I’ve cited Mark’s older version above because I like it better. The Transfiguration comes up in the lectionary every year because the Christian calendar has a Transfiguration Sunday in it every year as the last Sunday before the beginning of Lent. It certainly is an odd story. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John, the inner circle of the inner circle, up a mountain with him. There isn’t anything in Galilee that we would call a real mountain, but never mind. Such as the mountains there are, they went up one. Then Jesus was “transfigured” before the eyes of the three disciples. His clothes become whiter than anything on earth could make them. Then Moses and Elijah appeared there with him. We aren’t told how these guys other than Jesus knew who these figures were since the story doesn’t say that they identified themselves or that Jesus introduced them, but never mind. Moses and Elijah are really important figures. They represent the two parts of the Hebrew Bible, our Old Testament, that were already scripture in New Testament times, the Law and the Prophets. Moses brought the Torah law to the people. Elijah is (supposedly) the greatest of the Hebrew prophets, the one who was to reappear before the coming of the Messiah. A voice, clearly intended to be the voice of God, says: “This is my Son whom I love. Listen to him.” Peter is beside himself. The text says he didn’t know what to say, but in good Peter fashion he said something anyway. He said to Jesus let’s build three shelters up here on this mountain, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Pretty clearly Peter wants to stay up there on the mountain with Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Jesus doesn’t even respond to Peter’s suggestion. He just leads his three friends down off the mountain. A truly strange story indeed.

It’s a strange story, but it has some really important things to say. The story says that Jesus is the fulfillment of Hebrew scripture. That is at least one of the meanings of Moses and Elijah appearing to Jesus. What the voice from heaven says is really important too. Referring to Jesus Christ the voice doesn’t say believe in him. It doesn’t say worship him. It says “listen to him.” For a very long time Christians have been a whole lot better at believing in Jesus and worshipping him than they’ve (we’ve) been at listening to him. The world would be a much better place than it is if people would do a lot more listening to Jesus whether they believe in him as Lord and Savior or not.

All of that important stuff is in this story, but there’s something else in it that I want to focus on here. Peter wanted to stay up on the mountain with Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. Our text portrays him as befuddled, or better, overawed. He doesn’t know what to say. Mark’s version of the story, the oldest one we have, says he was “terrified.” The way the text says that Peter said something but didn’t know what to say points to how this bizarre experience of the Transfiguration had affected him. He was beside himself. He was transported out of his usual consciousness into a befuddlement, but it was a befuddlement he wanted to prolong. That’s why he suggested building dwellings for the three great figures before him and staying up on the mountain.

The experience I had that winter Sunday morning when I became transfixed by a sunrise over the Cascades and lost track of time is called a mountaintop experience. Peter had a mountaintop experience that day on the mountain with Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. That doesn’t just mean that I was looking at mountaintops and Peter was on one. Mountaintop experiences in this sense don’t necessarily have anything to do with mountains. A mountaintop experience is one of elevated consciousness, an elevated consciousness in which one can even lose awareness of time like I did that winter morning high in a skyscraper in downtown Seattle. It is a transcendent experience, one that is entirely unlike our normal, everyday, conscious experiences. Mountaintop experiences are what every mystic longs for and seeks to induce. They transport us above and beyond our ordinary world into a higher state of being. They may be immensely exciting, or they may produce a calmness in our souls that we don’t otherwise experience. Either way, they are wonderful, powerful experiences unlike anything else in life.

And when we have one we always want to stay in it. We want to prolong it. We want to stay with the high that no drug has produced. We want to stay on the mountaintop. Mountaintop experiences are some of the peak times of our lives. They’re wonderful; and they’re very rare, at least for most of us. We wish life could always be like that. We’re like Peter. We want to stay forever up there in our transcendent state. But here’s the thing: When Peter says to Jesus let’s build shelters for you, Moses, and Elijah and stay up here Jesus doesn’t even answer him with words. He just leads his friends back down the mountain. Back into the real world. Back into the world of struggle and pain, the world of love yes but also the world of fear and despair. Back into a world of troubles, a world of suffering. Back into the world where we really live. Back into the world where our work is. Back into the world where God’s work is. Our story doesn’t say that Peter argued with Jesus about going back down the mountain into the real world, but I imagine he must have been disappointed. It really was much better up there on that mountain, or so at least I’m sure it seemed to Peter. But Jesus just led him back down. Jesus wanted him back down. Jesus wanted him back in the real world where there is real work to do, not up on that mountain where Peter was both physically and spiritually high.

That’s where Jesus wants us too. Back in the world. Back to the work to which God calls us. Mountaintop experiences have their place and their role in life. They can reinvigorate us. They can both calm and inspire us. They can help us understand what our work in the world actually is and help us find the resources to keep at that work. Mountaintop experiences have their role, their value, but they aren’t where we’re supposed to stay. The world needs us. The world needs everyone who is willing to undertake the sacred work of being God’s love in the world. The sacred work of caring. The sacred work of relieving suffering. The sacred work of creating justice. The sacred work of peace.

So let’s value our mountaintop experiences when we have them. Perhaps like the mystics let us even seek them out from time to time. But let’s always remember: Life is in the valleys, the low places, not on the mountaintops. That’s where God wants us most of the time. So let’s get on with the work gives us off the mountaintop. Amen.