Matthew 17:1-9: Too Distracted for the Transfiguration

Last Sunday’s “Zits” comic strip was a little too prophetic or maybe a bit too close to home, as it really struck a chord in me. In the first frame, Jeremy, the teenage son character, has his face planted in an electronic tablet and hears from his mother that he should turn off the TV if he is not watching it. His response comes, “I AM WATCHING IT!” Then, “This show is a two screen experience. You’re supposed to go online and answer trivia questions, take polls, and connect with other fans.” Jeremy’s mother finally disgusted by the overload of “social media” begins to storm off saying, “OH FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE!” Suddenly next to Jeremy on the couch another voice emerges, “It’s about creating a shared experience Mrs. Duncan.” Jeremy then surprisingly says, “Oh, hey Sara, when did you get here?”

Technology…whatever the latest device or newest app is… seems to promise that it will bring a newfound connection that will lead to happiness. Being addicted to the new and to some new sense of connection is nothing new! The hit TV show Madmen, which takes place in the 1960s takes an inside look at the swelling of this phenomenon. The lead character Don Draper describes, “Advertising is based on one thing: happiness. And do you know what happiness is? Happiness is the smell of a new car. It's freedom from fear. It's a billboard on the side of a road that screams with reassurance that whatever you're doing is OK. You are OK.” And what is okay? What makes us feel okay today? Being “connected,” not feeling alone, not appearing like you are by yourself.

I have noticed a growing trend that the Zits comic strip seemed to illustrate. A recent study points out that many children in America today spend 75% of their waking hours glued to some screen or another. When I go into restaurants I notice how many people who are supposedly there together are actually spending all their time “connecting” to others on their phones. The trend I notice is that many people are addicted to being “connected” via technology to a vast nebulous community of friends. While I do not doubt for many people some of the time this actually serves a source of support, friendship, and connectivity, yet often I believe this way of relating to others actually serves more as a distraction from whatever the feeling, emotion, thought, or condition is within them at that very moment. Perhaps I notice this because it is a problem in my own life. Maybe giving up some technology and screen time would be a good Lenten discipline.

Yet, distraction and not being present in the moment with what is actually happening is not anything new. In today’s gospel, Jesus calls Simon-Peter, James, and John to go up a mountain with him. The disciples do not realize that they are stepping into an almost-indescribable, holy moment. The messiah calls them up to the top, away from everyday distractions, so that they may witness something mystic, divine, and mysterious.

In this mountaintop venture, Jesus fully immersed in the moment reveals his true nature to his disciples. Unlike Moses who veiled his face upon returning from a visit with God, Jesus, in the presence of his Father, lets his uncovered face shine with all the glory of God. Then, Moses (the bearer of the Law) and Elijah (the exemplary prophet) appear with Jesus. God drenches this triumvirate of holy figures with such holy light that the Christ is transformed in front of the overwhelmed disciples. Jesus is transfigured. His clothing turns dazzlingly white, even more brilliant than the amazing new vestments and altar hangings that we are blessing today.

I sometimes think what if I had been there? What if I were Peter or James or John? Could I resist snapping a picture with my phone to hold onto the moment? Or would I get distracted in that moment and miss what was really happening in front of me?

Peter knows how good it is that he is there on holy ground, but he gets distracted by the overwhelming holiness of this moment. He nervously floats out the idea that he should build a dwelling for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. This moment is not quite good enough for Peter, he wants to hold onto the Christ. Peter is distracted in this encounter with God by a desire to come back to the Almighty later on.

When we encounter the holy: a beautiful sunset, a magnificent piece of music, a friend who has lost a child, a newborn baby, a distressed neighbor, or a million other moments that are happening around the world right now; when we encounter the holy we often have a hard time adequately responding. We might fumble around the right words to say to a suffering friend, we might think it’s more important to rush to a meeting than to stop and smell the roses, or we might not hear the magnificent song God is inviting us to sing because we are just too busy. We so often say, “I want to put you, the Christ, in a box, so that I can take you out later on my time. When it is convenient to me I will worship you. For now, let me be distracted by technology or my work or my worry.”

God interrupts Peter’s attempt to put Jesus, Moses, and Elijah in a box. God interrupts our lives too. “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” These words familiar too us from Jesus’ baptism in the River Jordan by John the Baptist. Contain three extra words from the original. LISTEN TO HIM.

We may want to busy ourselves every moment, we may be addicted to distractions, but what God is asking us to do is to stop, to recognize the Christ around us, and to listen to him! Fight the urge to put God in a box, for our own convenience and instead respond in devout worship. The disciples fall down after hearing God’s voice, and while this might be how we all would respond if we heard God’s voice, Jesus rebukes his followers.

After such an awe-inspiring, transcended, transfigured moment, Jesus brings his disciples back to this plane of reality with a very simple act. He touches them, saying “Get up and do not be afraid.” If we are able to see the holiness of a moment, to see God cutting through the false veil that often clouds this world, if we see a thin space, a Celtic phrase that means that this veil between our world and God’s reality is minimal, if we are able to encounter the holy we are not to fearfully cringe. We are invited to let Christ touch us, to have him strengthen us, but we’re also not to shout it from the mountaintop. Or, maybe we are not to shout it once we leave the mountaintop.

Jesus commands his followers not to tell of this moment until after his Resurrection. If we encounter such a holy moment, we are to acknowledge it. We are to hold onto it, but not to overwhelm others with it. Take the holy with you. Let it be a source of strength, but not a form of boasting.

We are distracted in our lives so often. We might miss the holy. When we encounter it we want to box it up so that we can experience it on our own time or we want to boast about it with others. These are our human responses. God urges us to listen to Christ, to encounter the mysterious moments of Transfiguration not on our time, but in God’s Time. How will you come down the mountain?