The Shining Savior

 

Jesu Juva

St. Mark 9:2-9                                                                 

February 14, 2021

Transfiguration B                   

 Dear Saints of our Savior~

          The time for miracles was coming to an end.  Throughout the Epiphany season we’ve been wending our way through Mark chapter one, encountering one miracle after another.  Multitudes were being healed—the demon-possessed, the feverish, and even lowly lepers.  It didn’t matter what their affliction was, because Jesus, the Great Physician, could cure it.  As you might imagine, Jesus’ popularity was growing by leaps and bounds.  He couldn’t enter even the remotest village without being mobbed by adoring crowds.

          But the Transfiguration marks a time of transition in the ministry of Jesus.  Things would be different now.  The time for miracles was ending, and the time for His crucifixion was approaching.  Jesus had just begun to teach His disciples that He must suffer many things, be rejected, be killed, and on the third day rise again.  You may recall that this prediction was not well received by the Twelve.  And Peter had a particular problem with it.  But all of them were terribly troubled by this grim prediction.  What did it all mean?

          One week later Jesus took Peter, James and John on a little retreat, up on a high mountain by themselves.  And on that mountain Jesus was transfigured before them.  The Greek word is “metamorphosis,” changed in appearance.  Jesus was

“morphed” before their eyes.  Here was a Jesus they hadn’t seen before—shining, glorious, radiant, glowing brighter and purer than all the angels in the sky.  God of light, light of light, very God of very God.  Every cell of His body was aglow with the glory of God.  What a sight that must have been.

          As if that wasn’t enough, Moses and Elijah also put in a guest appearance—carrying on a conversation with Jesus.  Now, Moses and Elijah weren’t shining like the Savior; but their presence pointed to Jesus as the fulfillment of the entire Old Testament.  And let’s not overlook the fact that both Moses and Elijah (who had long ago departed from this life) were alive and well in the presence of Jesus.  It’s a preview of the life of the world to come—a glimpse of the glory we will all one day enjoy as we are gathered together in the glory of God’s beloved Son.  And nobody has to ask, “Who are those two guys with Jesus?”  They are simply known.  And that’s how it will be in heaven—for all of us.  You will know and recognize saints you’ve never met before; and they will know and recognize you—all without the benefit of nametags.

          Peter gets caught up in the moment.  And who can blame him?  “Rabbi, it’s good to be here,” he says.  “Let’s make three tents, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.”  Peter was so terrified he didn’t know what he was talking about.  But behind his words was the urge to make that moment last—to capitalize on the power and the glory made manifest before their eyes.  Peter wanted to enshrine the moment and memorialize the mountain—a place where the crowds could come and be thrilled.  This was a Jesus Peter could support and promote!

          Can you imagine what would have happened if Jesus had okayed Peter’s building plans?  That spot could have become a tourist attraction—maybe even a theme park.  They could have called it “Morph Mountain,” with a chapel and a website and a gift shop with little vials of dirt for sale.  Busloads of church groups would make their pilgrimage there, so that ordinary folks could feel closer to God—and maybe catch a glimpse of the glory.

          The truth is that we love this kind of thing—miracles, visions, healings, appearances of angels, unexplained phenomena that seem to show God at work.  Now, at least we Lutherans don’t go “ga-ga” over apparitions of the Virgin Mary that seem to pop up in the strangest places.  But we do have a weakness for what Martin Luther called a “theology of glory,” a faith that’s grounded in success rather than suffering—where feeling God’s glory is more important than the humble and hidden ways He has promised to serve us in His Word and sacraments.  We would so much rather hear a story about someone’s near-death experience than hear a pastor proclaim that God’s power is made perfect in weakness.

          But a careful reading of today’s text reveals that the point of the Transfiguration isn’t to embrace a theology of glory.  Faith that’s focused on visions and on extraordinary experiences will always need more visions . . . and more extraordinary experiences to keep it going.  And without those, it dies.  This is why God threw a wet blanket over the whole scene that day, just when things were getting interesting.  A thick cloud of God’s glory moved in and obscured the visibility.  The seeing stopped, so that the listening could begin:  “This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him.”  Jesus is the one.  Don’t look or listen for another.  His Words are what you need. Listen to Him!

          “Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone . . . but Jesus only.”  When all was said and done that day, Jesus was the only one left standing before their eyes.  That’s what God the Father wants you to see.  That’s where He wants your faith to be focused—on Jesus only.  It’s great to see Moses on the mountain, but Moses can’t save you, and keeping his commandments can’t save you.  Elijah was the most impressive prophet ever; but he can’t save you either. 

          Only Jesus is the beloved Son of God.  Only Jesus is the eternal Word through whom all things were made.  Only Jesus dies and rises and takes you and the whole world with Him.  Only Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  Only in Jesus are you reconciled to God, redeemed and renewed.  Only in Jesus are your sins forgiven and washed away.  Only in Jesus do you have life—and have it to the full.

          So, if God doesn’t want us searching for and seeking out visions of glory and grandeur, why did He provide a vision like that for Peter, James and John?  This was a sign—a sign for those three men who would very soon see Jesus with nails in His hands and feet, bloodied and beaten.  They would see Him rejected by all, defeated and dead.  They would see the Savior humble and weak and broken.  But those three would know that there was more to Jesus than meets the eye.  There was glory hidden behind the weakness and humility.  They knew that Jesus’ power and glory is sometimes hidden.

          That’s our experience of Jesus too.  The glory of Jesus is hidden under weakness.  In baptism God’s glory is hidden in a splash of ordinary water.  In the Lord’s Supper God’s glory is hidden in a little bread and wine.  In Holy Absolution God’s glory is hidden in words spoken by your pastor—a fellow sinner.  But what is there—what is here—is the power and majesty of God.  Every Sunday we have a glorious Jesus who comes to us gently, humbly and graciously. 

          One day you will see what Peter, James and John saw—when Jesus appears again in glory.  On that day all the dead will be raised in the power of His resurrection.  And you will be changed.  You will undergo your own metamorphosis.  You will be transfigured and transformed, to be like Jesus in His glory.  In fact, St. Paul says that it’s already started.  Even now the light of God’s glory is shining in your heart.  You can’t see it.  But you can let it shine.  You can leave here today glowing with the glory of God’s promises in Christ, given to good works—so that others might see those good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

          One thing’s for sure on this Transfiguration Sunday—It’s good to be here.  It’s good to be here, where the Lord Jesus has promised to come among us to love us, to forgive us, and save us.  Alleluia!

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.