Lutheran Church of the Holy Spirit
Albany, New York
2 March 2025 + Transfiguration of Our Lord
Luke 9:28-43a
Rev. Josh Evans
Now about eight days after these sayings…
What sayings?
“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asked Peter, just eight days ago. “The Messiah of God,” Peter responds, only to be met with Jesus’ stern warning not to tell anyone, and followed by an equally jarring prediction about himself: “The Son of Man must undergo great suffering and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised.”
But wait, there’s more! “If any wish to come after me,” Jesus goes on, “let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”
Now about eight days after these sayings,
Jesus took with him Peter and John and James…
I wonder if the other nine didn’t get invited to the exclusive mountaintop hike – or if they opted out, shaken by Jesus’ foreboding words the week before. “What’s that he said about ‘taking up our cross’?” I can’t say I’d blame them for opting out.
Now about eight days after these sayings,
Jesus took with him Peter and John and James
and went up on the mountain to pray.
Isn’t that interesting? Prayer, as it so often is for Luke, is a means of “setting the stage for major events, decisions, and ministry moments.” (Working Preacher) Prayer, as a means of grounding one’s self in the moment, in the presence of the divine, and here, in the presence of three close friends, before Something Big.
And while he was praying,
the appearance of his face changed,
and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning.
Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah –
arguably two of ancient Israel’s most distinguished and notable religious figures –
talking to him.
They appeared in glory and were speaking about his exodus –
Where have we heard that word before? –
which he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem…
Could this be a “new” exodus? Another decisive moment of God’s liberating and saving act on behalf of God’s people, about to break through in their own time? What does this mean?
Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep…
A relatable feeling, isn’t it?
We who are weighed down by so many things.
So. Many. Things.
But as they awoke they saw his glory
and the two men who stood with him.
Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus,
“Master, it is good for us to be here;
let us set up three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah,”
not realizing what he was saying…
Except…I think he knew exactly what he was saying. Peter, understandably, wanted to stay. He saw the world they had left before they went up the mountain. He knew what awaited them on the journey back down. He had encountered the brokenness, the pain, the fear, the anger first-hand. Wouldn’t you want out too if you had the option? Yes, let’s stay! It is good for us to be here – so much better than the alternative.
While he was saying this,
a cloud came and overshadowed them,
and they were terrified as they entered the cloud.
Then from the cloud came a voice that said,
“This is my Son, my Chosen;
listen to him!”
Listen to him!
Listen to… what?
What he has already said?
“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised.”
“If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”
Or that mic drop inaugural address:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free those who are oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
That mic drop inaugural address…
that almost got him hurled off a cliff.
Or what he is about to say?
Rebuking the unclean spirit.
Again predicting his betrayal and death.
Settling an argument among his disciples about greatness: “Whoever welcomes [a] child in my name welcomes me…for the least among all of you is the greatest.”
Listen!
When the voice had spoken,
Jesus was found alone.
And they kept silent
and in those days told no one
any of the things they had seen.
On the next day –
the very next day –
when they had come down from the mountain,
a great crowd met him.
Just then a man from the crowd shouted,
“Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child.
Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks.
It convulses him until he foams at the mouth;
it mauls him and will scarcely leave him.
I begged your disciples to cast it out,
but they could not.”
Back to business as usual – the brokenness, the pain, the fear.
If only they had listened to Peter and stayed…
Jesus answered,
“You faithless and perverse generation,
how much longer must I be with you and put up with you?
Bring your son here.”
Yikes. That sounds a bit harsh, doesn’t it? Seems like a hard turn back to reality, from the mountaintop to the valley, even for Jesus.
While he was being brought forward,
the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions.
But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit,
healed the boy,
and gave him back to his father.
“Who is this, that he commands even the winds and the water” – even the unclean spirits– “and they obey him?”
Listen!
And all were astounded at the greatness of God.
The greatness, as the disciples will soon learn,
after quibbling with one another,
that is found in the least among them.
The greatness of a God who bends to us in weakness,
who is concerned for the lowly, the cast aside, and those who are cut off,
who rebukes every unclean spirit that rears its head –
the spirit of Christian nationalism and xenophobia,
the spirit of white supremacy and racism,
the spirit of anti-transgender executive orders,
the spirit of harmful rhetoric and policies at the expense of the most vulnerable.
***
This transfiguration is the ultimate epiphany –
at the end of this season of Epiphany –
not for the glory of the mountaintop,
as amazing and transformative and empowering as it was,
but for the journey back down into the valley,
for the revelation and affirmation of Jesus’ mission,
who he is and what he’s all about.
“It would be nice,” writes one commentator, “if we could ‘bottle the lightning’ of a transcendent experience like the transfiguration so that we could eliminate our fears, our failures, our pain and ignorance. But that’s not how life works. Nor is it what we see in the gospels.”
Instead, as another theologian summarizes: “The Transfiguration experience clarifies Jesus’ significance and reaffirms his purpose—but does nothing to alter the challenges to come. This puts into perspective the relative significance of spiritual mountaintop experiences in our lives today: While offering clarity, affirmation, and formative experiences, the call to ministry leads us not to stay there (as Peter may have desired), but to return below, where the hard work of healing happens. After all, Jesus’ ministry is nottransformative and redemptive because of what he did on the mountain, but what he did in the valleys and wilderness areas elsewhere.”
The disciples were weighed down –
they had seen some stuff,
and they were about to see more of it.
The state of the world weighed on them –
heavy, burdensome, oppressive.
They’re tired…burnt out…done.
No wonder they want to stay,
to set up tents,
to contain the relative safety of the mountaintop,
to make it last forever.
To avoid the valley experiences,
to shield themselves from confronting the pain and brokenness
of the world that almost certainly awaited them.
As the lyrics of Emily Saliers, better known as one half of the Indigo Girls, put it:
“The wood is tired and the wood is old,
and we’ll make it fine if the weather holds…
but if the weather holds, we’ll have missed the point.
That’s where I need to go.”
If the weather holds,
if we could just stay…
we’ll have missed the point.
That’s where we need to go.
“This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”
Listen!
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor,
release to the captives,
freedom to those who are oppressed.”
Listen!
“Take up your cross daily and follow me.”
Listen!
“The Son of Man must undergo great suffering and be rejected and killed…” –
Listen! – “…and on the third day be raised.”
The hard stuff is here and more is probably coming,
and it’s not necessarily going away,
and we are called into the midst of it:
To continue in the way of Jesus,
the way of the cross,
the way of jubilee, a new exodus,
the way of liberation for all.
To stay engaged,
and to stand in solidarity with the least among us –
for that is where greatness is –
to advocate, to agitate, to march
on behalf of the suffering and the vulnerable,
to rebuke every unclean spirit
that denies the full humanity of our fellow human beings,
our fellow siblings created in the image of our heavenly parent.
To build booths not of wood and stone and stained glass,
but of justice, mercy, and compassion.
***
It is true that we are weighed down by so many things.
There’s no use in pretending otherwise.
With the disciples, and even with Jesus,
we’re in good company there.
It is also true that those things don’t get to be the end of the story –
not in the kin-dom of God,
not in God’s beloved community.
One commentary puts it this way:
“This week, from here where we stand on the mountaintop, we can survey the troubles ahead, take a deep breath, and remember that the journey through ashes and sorrow is never for its own sake. It’s for the sake of what comes next. In a word, it’s for the sake of transfiguration: a radiant new life and a dazzling new world, full of courage, love, and grace. Take heart!”
Here, in this space,
where we bring with us all that weighs us down,
all that we carry with us in the valley,
we are filled and nourished.
Here, at this table,
we are given the strength that goes with us on the way.
And from here, we are sent –
boldly, bravely, resiliently –
to embody God’s love,
to proclaim God’s justice,
and to enact God’s peace.
And here, we are beckoned to return,
time and time again,
to continue to listen,
to hear God’s words of promise and hope,
that somehow, despite everything, keep us going.
