Glory Down the Mountain

If God is always on a mountain does that mean He's always hard to see?

Sermon audio can be found here.

Fog has a tendency to congregate on the peaks of mountains. I know this after spending seven years living on top of a high plateau. For what feels like days, weeks, and even months at a time, a mood-depressing mist can linger sticking to everything it touches. One’s entire field of vision takes on a type of grey, surreal obscurity and very little appears in focus. Higher elevations can even lead to altitude sickness, including migraines, diarrhea, and blurred sight. Despite all of this mountaintop moments remain a beloved catchall for spiritually exhilarating periods of our lives.

Mountains have since our earliest ancestors been the place where humans interact with the Divine. Whether we will admit it or not, we often imagine that God dwells somewhere among the clouds. Of course, this is not our fault. Everything about God seems cloudy. Our hymns reinforce this—think of our current Offertory, “From all who dwell below the skies, let the Creator’s praise arise” (Hymn 380, 1982 Hymnal). The Old Testament suggests this, as Moses exchanged messages with the Almighty on Sinai’s height and in today’s first lesson Elijah was swept up into the clouds by a chariot of fire. And of course, God names Jesus his beloved on a mountaintop. We get it God, you dwell up there, and we, well, we live down here.

Yet, even as Elijah zoomed off in a blaze of glory, Moses chatted with the Almighty, and God transfigured Jesus, I am left wondering what happens when they (and we with them) come back down? What occurs if the mountaintop becomes too foggy not with God’s Holy presence, but with a cloud of unknowing? Where do we meet God, if not on top of a mountain?

We can, of course, look to those who have met God on top of a mountain more recently, like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. who in his last public address beautifully depicted his own pinnacle experience. He even spoke of peeking over the peak and into the Promised Land. In his own words:

“I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop.
And I don't mind.
Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you.
But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

The Rev. Dr. King seemed to know that like Moses he might have made it to the mountain top, but he might not make it into the Promised Land. This prophetic saint of the 20th Century stood on a proverbial mountain, as he felt God calling him home. Only 300 feet above sea level in Memphis he could still see far enough to view his dream of racial equality becoming reality.

This summit experience of that prophetic speech appears so magnificent in light of the Rev. Dr. King’s martyrdom that it overshadows the first 4,276 words of that same speech. In it he did not pontificate on pinnacles, but rather he wound his way through history until he made it to his own day. He believed that something was happening across the globe as people cried out, “We want to be free.”

We can believe that the work of freedom is done by God, or by more mountainous figures, like the Rev. Dr. King, Mahatma Gandhi, or Mother Teresa. We might think that it takes a spiritual peak experience to be called by God into the work of bringing God’s healing to life. And yet, I believe as John F. Kennedy did that, “Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free.” The work of the Church, the work of the Body of Christ, the work of us who are that Church and that Body comes not when we have a powerful moment, like that of the transfiguration, but when we receive God’s grace and let it transfigure the rest of our life.

This is not always a pleasant experience either. Moses, Elijah, and the Rev. Dr. King all struggled with God, but maybe none of them as much as the disciples. On the one hand, in the Transfiguration they encountered the symbol of the Law, Moses, and the epitome of the prophets, Elijah, speaking with Jesus. Plus, they had heard the voice of God, and had lived! Yet on the other hand, a cloud obscured their vision, Peter blabbered about building booths, fear wrapped around them, and worst of all Jesus told them to tell no one of the experience. But, why?

Throughout Mark’s Gospel account the reader is left wondering, “Who is this Jesus?” In fact, Jesus even seems to turn to the audience to ask, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers the question acknowledging Jesus as the Messiah, and yet when Jesus describes the type of death the Messiah must die Peter cannot handle it. This is when Jesus calls Peter Satan. So when God transfigures Jesus on the mountaintop this fuels Peter’s understanding of the Messiah that is this person who was to come in and overthrow the occupying forces of Rome. And yet, Jesus understands the truth of this moment far better than the disciples.

The moment of the Transfiguration will remain a mystery until the events that transpire in Jerusalem and result in Jesus’ death. Some would have certainly tried to put Jesus in a position of political power had they heard of this divine encounter on the top of a mountain. Yet, the glorification of God’s Son in the cloud can only make sense in light of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. And this is what we must understand about our peak spiritual experiences: they are not meant to give us something to boast about, but rather are to transfigure our hearts so that we might continue on the journey.

We with the disciples and Jesus are beginning our journey towards Jerusalem through the Season of Lent this very week. We need not go in search of any alps. For Christ wants us to walk with him down the mountain instead. Jesus’ Transfiguration occurred among the clouds, but God yearns to reform our hearts, as we journey with him bringing freedom, release, and transformation to all God’s children starting with ourselves.