“On a High Mountain”

Meditation on the Transfiguration of Christ: Mark 9:2-9

     Mount Hermon is really a mountain range that crosses the borders of Syria, Lebanon, and Israel. The highest peak of Mount Hermon is in Syria—9,230 feet above sea level.  The highest peak of Mount Hermon in Israel is 7,295 feet. 

     In winter, Israel’s Mount Hermon is covered with snow! Thousands of people flock to the mountain to see and ski the only place in Israel where there is snow.

     Mount Hermon is important to Israel, not just because it is a fun place to ski or hike, but because of its strategic advantage. Israel seized the mountain from Syrian control in the Yom Kippur War of 1973.

     On a clear day Israel can see deep into Syrian territory.

     People say Mount Hermon is the only “real” mountain in Israel and that all the other mountains are just “high hills.”

      Scholars say that Mount Hermon is very likely the “high mountain” described in Mark chapter 9, when Jesus is transfigured before the very eyes of Simon Peter, James, and John.

      Now Jesus the mountain climber was never an image that had come to mind before studying this week’s scripture, learning the elevation of the peaks of Mount Hermon, and seeing the snowy photos of skiers at the only ski site in Israel.  Whether the “high mountain” in Mark refers to the peak of Mount Hermon in Syria or in Israel, for sure it was a steep climb!

      Clearly, Jesus does not want the crowds to follow when he leads these three disciples up such a high mountain. His disciples don’t know why they are making this climb. But they want to be with him, wherever he goes.

     Right before the transfiguration narrative in Mark, Jesus tries to tell his disciples that he will be killed by the religious people in power, then he will be raised from the dead after 3 days. They are upset by his words and don’t want to hear them. Simon Peter scolds him, stirring Jesus to say, “Get behind me, Satan! You are thinking human thoughts, not God’s thoughts.”

     Christ will try to teach them his identity again on this high mountain. This time, he won’t use words, at least, not his own. The revelation will be like a scene from a science fiction movie, when suddenly people thought to be relatives or friends shed their disguises and reveal their true identities as something other than human, something not of this earth.

    As N.T. Wright’s contemporary translation says, suddenly Christ’s clothes shone with a “whiteness that no laundry on earth could match.” Then, the long-dead prophets Elijah and Moses appear, shining with an unearthly glow. They talk with Jesus. About what, Mark does not say.

     Frightened and confused, Peter babbles something about building houses for Moses and Elijah. Isn’t that just like Peter—the one who attempted to follow Jesus as he walked on water, but then sank for lack of faith?  All heart, wanting to please Christ and be his devoted servant. But not being able to figure out what Christ was trying to say to him.

     When Peter stops babbling, a cloud overshadows the little group gathered on the mountaintop.  And similar to what happened at Christ’s baptism, a voice speaks from the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, the beloved.” This time, the voice adds, “Listen to Him.”

     As suddenly as the supernatural event begins, it ends.  The prophets of old disappear.  And though Jesus’ loses the mysterious glow, his disciples can never see him again in the same light.

     The mountaintop experience ushers in the beginning of a new reality for the disciples. Jesus is not one of them; he is something more than human, more than a wise prophet and good teacher. The full meaning of the event—and Jesus’ instructions on the way down the mountain to not tell anyone until after His resurrection—will come to the disciples later on.  But hopefully they got the message—to listen to what Jesus says.

     Like Peter, James, and John, we cannot fully understand what God is doing in our lives or in us, for that matter. And there may be times when we don’t want to listen to everything God is trying to teach us. With this knowledge, comes the responsibility of having to obey. God calls us as new creatures in Christ to a dramatic change in the way we think and live.  The change may mean sacrifice—giving up a comfortable existence and routine—in order to pick up His cross and follow Him.  The change means quieting the other voices in your head and in your life so you can listen to God—really listen.

      It may be hard for some of you to trust a God who wants all of you and nothing held back. Maybe you have been hurt before by someone you loved, someone who let you down.  God will not let you down! And trials, such as illness, the loss of a loved one or an economic hardship, may move you to feel as if the Spirit is leading you up a steep climb that goes on and on.

     I can assure you that though your faith may quiver and your legs feel like Jello, God will never lead you up to the mountaintop without good reason.  

     If we listen for His voice and let Him lead us on this journey of faith together, He will use us to build His Church like He used Peter, the disciple who never seemed to say or do anything right. But he had a heart full of love and the desire to serve and please Christ. 

     When Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is, Peter, the one whose name means “rock,” is the one who knows.

     “You are the Christ,” he says, “the Son of the living God.”

     Jesus answers him, “Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.  I also say to you that you are Peter (rock), and upon this rock I will build my church….”

   

Let us pray.  Lord, thank you for your word that reveals Christ to us and how we should live.  We pray your Spirit will open our ears to hear, really hear, and guide us to your will. Help us be your obedient servants.  Thank you for promising to use us for your work, though we don’t always say or do the right things. Give us loving hearts that yearn to please you. Give us patience when we feel as if you are leading us up a steep climb that doesn’t end. Lead us to feel your loving, comforting presence and bring us your joy that is like no other joy. In Christ’s name we pray.  Amen.