staying on the mountain?

In Luke’s story of Jesus the Transfiguration comes in the middle of stories which are about what it means to be a disciple. Although the Chapter dividers in the Gospel are editorial the theme runs from the Disciples being sent out with authority over demons, through Peter declaring who Jesus is, Jesus twice in this chapter foretells his death, he feeds the hungry and explains various harder aspects of discipleship and in the middle of it all he takes his closest friends up a mountain and there is changed in appearance before them.

All of this revelation of what it means to be a follower of Christ, and ultimately, for us, what it means to be Church, surrounds this point of encounter with the Glory of God.

As we approach the beginning of Lent on Wednesday it is worth holding on this central truth that God is revealed to us in Jesus. That in this moment of change, of Transfiguration, the Kingdom of God is seen as it is, the holiness of God is revealed, This is new in the story of God’s interaction with humanity. Holiness has, up until now, been something distant and frightening, shut in the Temple, hidden from view in the Ark of the Covenant. The unfortunate Uzzah who reached out his hand in the book of Samuel to steady the Ark on its cart as it was moved to the Temple and was struck dead.

Strange as this story may seem it fits with the idea that people and the glory of God do not mix. Moses, in the Old Testament reading wears a veil to prevent people from gazing on his shining features and in the second letter to the Corinthians it is veil imagery that is taken up – the veil has been torn by Jesus – remember, of course, that the curtain to the Temple tears from top to bottom as Jesus dies, God’s glory, God’s holiness is exposed.

It is not surprising then that the disciples are terrified – Peter’s immediate reaction is to put walls around the appearance of both Jesus and the great prophets, to contain them and make them somehow safe. But Luke’s narrative it is important to realize that the message is clear, a follower of Jesus is one who has authority over the powers of the world, one who is content in having nothing materially, one who will never be truly at home in this world, one who will experience suffering and will join Jesus in the journey to the cross but most importantly one who is experiencing and living in the light and glory of God’s kingdom, not just in a far away and hopeful sense, but in the here and now sense of the every day.

It is tempting, as we approach the beginning of Lent on Wednesday, to compare the mountaintop with the valley. To approach the Transfiguration as if it is one last desperate look at glory before we descend into seven weeks of darkness – but that is not Luke’s message. Jesus does not remain on the mountaintop but descends with his followers and immediately heals a boy with a demon. The work of the Gospel continues – the inbreaking of God’s glory is part of the ministry of the Church not a final, last gasp attempt to reassure an ailing people. They will preach and teach and set their faces to Jerusalem, walking with Jesus but reminded who he is and what that might mean.

Lent is a time of learning, of reflection, of repentance and of giving. Often we see this season as gloomy, as shadowed around with sin and death – and, of course, cleaning our spiritual houses can be dirty , hard and sometimes painful work. We carry burdens which we should not, we make assumptions which we cannot and we look to God too little. But my question to us this Lent is what happens if we see ourselves as staying, in some way, on the mountain, as living in the Kingdom of God here and now as well as in the time which is to come. What happens if, instead of running around like Peter trying to contain the glory we simply allow it, we allow light, we allow amazement, we allow awe. What if we are silent on the mountaintop, a deep silence which allows God to be God and allows us to be who we really are – loved first and ready to be better.

What does that feel like – to be in a place where total honesty is not just allowable but it, in fact, the only thing possible. What does it feel like to let go of the terror of being outside and embracing the welcome which we are offered. Imagine that for a moment, imagine what it feels like just to be – and to be alright – to really be alright. To be caught between wonder and joy, to be lifted up into this Jesus, into this thin place, to touch heaven – how does that feel and how does it change us?

This place is then the beginning of our Lenten journey. In three days many of us will come here and receive the sign of ashes on our heads – we will remind ourselves that we are dust and to dust we shall return – but what wonderful and loved dust we are – dust that is invited to a mountaintop.

Of course I am not saying that we do not need to improve, that we do not have faults, that sin is not a real and constant drain on us and spoiler to our relationship with God. Neither am I saying that we can so bask in the glory of God that we Have no real responsibilities to the world around us. Peter still has his biggest moment of demial to come and, as we have seen, Jesus comes down the and begins his ordinary work again. Lent is certainly about putting down and taking up, there needs to be a real repentance and reconciliation but it is not about some sort of strangely psuedo-medieval self-degradation. We have real points of conflict, real problems but we also have a light in which to see them – a Kingdom which is both here and here to come.

Where does the mountaintop encounter with Jesus leave you? What is there in your life which you need to let go of – where are there shadows? But also where does the light shine, which moments make you laugh, what do you most enjoy and how can you turn all those things to God’s service? These thoughts are the beginning of a Lent Rule – what do I need to let go of, what do I need to learn, where do I lack discipline and what can I offer to others. As always, make it short, memorable and most of all do-able, if you set a challenge for yourself do so with kindness and with support.

This Lent our focus is our worship – the words and actions of the communion service. In Lukes Gospel the feeding of the five thousand is woven into this chapter – Jesus feeds, Jesus reveal glory and these actions are both caught up in the Eucharist. We are invited to a thin place, a mountain-top table. It is important because this worship, this Eucharist, which we offer is a place of encounter, a place of God’s inbreaking, a place of transformation and light. Sundays in Lent are places of respite, places of celebration and refreshment.

The whole course is downloadable from the website and there are a few paper copies available – we will have a list to sign up on if we need more than we have.

One more brief thought. The mountaintop is not really a day trip – it is a lifetime’s journey of transformation – it is an wonderfully ordinary part of the disciple’s calling. The people noticed the Moses had been with God, his face had changed, he brought the light back with him. That is our calling too, we will change, we will be transformed and transfigured as we return again and again to the light – it will rub off on us and inhabit us – we are ourselves the tents of the presence of God and we will carry it with us back to our dwelling. We are called to be light in our several generations – to flood the valley and in that light to remove everything which prevents us from being as bright as we can be.

We cannot ever live on the mountaintop – that is not our home – but we can pause there awhile, lost in wonder not frenetic activity, we can breathe deeply of the peace which God offers and if we are brave enough we can see ourselves for who we really are – know that we are still deeply loved – and leave that place changed.

This Lent, I would urge all of us to spend some time standing in the light, wondering at the glory and from that place of glory to begin a bit of spring soul cleaning to make ourselves God’s wandering, powerful, shiney people.