Dr. Dale Miller

February 18, 2007

Mountaintops in the Valley

Luke 9:28-36

On my first trip to Israel some twenty years ago I found myself on a tour bus traveling through the Jezreel Valley on the way to Mount Tabor, traditional site of the Mount of Transfiguration where the events of today's scripture reading took place. When we arrived at the Mount we had to discard the bus for smaller cars that could maneuver the steep and windy road that would take us up the side of the mountain. At first glance the mountain didn't seem that high or that steep. As I learned from this experience, however, first impressions can often be misleading.

Because I needed the legroom I was granted the privilege of sitting in the front passenger seat. I was quite pleased that I was going to have such a wonderful view of the ascent. As the car sped away I became acutely aware that it was going to be a steep ascent. I also became aware that when I looked out the side window I was looking straight down the mountain. There were no guardrails on the mountain curves. Just as I thought the car was going to hurtle out into space, the driver would jam on his brakes, turn the steering wheel sharply to the left and then step on the accelerator to regain his lost momentum of speed.

The mountain got higher and higher! I thought we would never get to the top. In Jesus' day it would take him a half of a day to walk to the top. I felt lucky to arrive in one piece! Just getting to the top of the mountain was a mountaintop experience.

Jesus goes up a mountain, away and apart from all of the crowds that have been following him for bread and healing and teaching. He is even leaving behind nine out of the twelve disciples, taking with him only the three who seem to be in on everything - Peter, John and James. There on the mountain, he talks with Moses and Elijah, the two greatest figures from the history of the covenant people. They talk about what Luke calls Jesus' exodus, his departure, his passion, death and resurrection.

When the discussion seems to be drawing to a close, good old Peter steps in. Half of the time Peter is right on the money about what is going on with Jesus. Unfortunately, the other half of the time Peter is completely clueless about Jesus. Peter wants to erect tents, and stay there forever, basking in God's glory as long as possible, isolating themselves from the flow of life. Peter's suggestion is interrupted by God. God declares "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!"

These cloud-covered words reveal the focus of this epiphany. It's not just the affirmation of Jesus' ministry. It's not just a sneak-peek at Jesus' glory. It is to give the directive "listen to him." The message preached by Jesus, a message of rejection and suffering, was validated by God. In the midst of this scene of glory, Peter, James and John were brought back to the valley of everyday life. Peter wants to control the situation. Instead, he is invited to share in all of life, mountaintops and valleys.

We like to be in control of our lives and our environment by putting things in containers, drawing boundaries, classifying, and categorizing. The spiritual experience, however, defies control. Our experience of God is not a possession, but rather it is an opportunity to be possessed by God. The disciples followed where Jesus led them. They followed him up the mountain to witness the transfiguration, an awesome experience. And then it's all over. Suddenly they are coming down the mountain, back to the normal routine.

As the Gospel story continues, the disciples are very slow to understand the significance of what they have witnessed. Their experience does not make them fully informed, brilliant, heroic, or holy. Their experience is simply one experience on a long journey toward faithfulness. The same journey of life that takes Jesus to the Cross is our journey where each day we encounter the crosses we must bear through faith and in faithfulness.

In the valleys of everyday life, in the bearing of the crosses of human trials and tribulations, we must look for and listen to Christ Jesus. With him we can discover our mountaintop experiences in the midst of our valley living. Our ordinary living becomes extraordinary living when we can look for and listen to the divine presence of God. This is hard to do. Our sensibilities often become numb to the reality of anything divine.

Long before Mother Teresa there was Albert Schweitzer. A visitor to Schweitzer's mission station in equatorial Africa saw a battered old piano. Extreme heat and humidity had almost destroyed it. The ivories on the keyboard were fastened with screws. A dozen or more strings were missing. It was capable of clattering only music marred with tinniness of tone and horribly out of tune. That is until Albert Schweitzer sat down to play.

Schweitzer was not only a skilled physician, but also a renowned master of the music of Johann Sebastian Bach. He could bring alive in even a pitifully ravaged instrument the glorious chords of Bach's great music. God's infinite grace can enable us to experience beauty and holiness hidden in the moments of each day.

Jesus is not doing his redemptive work on the mountain. Jesus is just getting himself revved up for the work he has to do. He does his redemptive work in Jerusalem. If we want to be the Body of Christ in this world, then we too are called to do the work of God in Jerusalem - in the midst of the passion and pain and mundane of the world. We are the Body of Christ most closely, most truly and most recognizably when we step off the mountaintop and into the meat of creation.

This Wednesday is known as Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the season of Lent. Lent is:

• the season where we consider the temptations that assail us,

• the season where we contemplate the suffering that we, with Christ, undergo,

• the season where we gaze upon the good and the evil that is in this world, and in our hearts.

I think we would do well to be attentive to God's admonition: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" Jesus is more than the fellow from next door, more than a good buddy with whom we can walk and talk, more than good example for our children and our grandchildren to emulate. Jesus is the Son of God, the chosen one, the one to whom we are commanded to listen.

Jesus is the Chosen One, the one who is able to carry us into the presence of God everyday, the one who gives peace everyday, and the one who gives joy everyday. Sometimes we need to be reminded not to forget this. Sometimes we fall into our daily routines without a thought about the divinity that surrounds us, without any real awareness of the power that surrounds us and holds us up. We have business to do, we have people to see, we have kids to move from A to B to C and back again.

In the bustle and hurry of each day we lose track of where we are going. We lose track of whose we are. Do we listen for God every day? Do we stop thinking about what concerns us and simply listen; listen to the point where we can hear our pulse beating in our ears and feel the air moving steadily and strongly in out of our lungs; and listen to the point where God begins to put words upon our hearts, words of assurance, words of guidance, and words of comfort.

There is a vast and great power operating in this world, a power of love and care, a power of beauty, a sustaining power and a giving power. It is a power that is able to bear us through the most horrible of times, a power that weeps with us when we sorrow, and a power that holds us when we feel close to despair. Today and every day is a time to be transformed by love of God, listening to the message to be the work and word of God in our hearts.

There is also a power operating in this world within and through the Body of Christ, the Church. When Peter, James and John wanted to build three tents on top of the mountain that would serve as a light at the end of the tunnel, a beacon of light beckoning those squinting from dim tunnel vision or those stuck at the wrong end of long, dark tunnels, God intervened. Jesus rebuked their "light-at-the-end-of-a-tunnel" understanding of discipleship and challenged them to embrace a "tunnel-at-the-end-of-the-light" discipleship.

The church is not called to invite people out of the darkness into the light so much as to bring the light into the darkness. We spend so much time building our tents, our own safe "temples of light," that we neglect to spend anywhere near that much time bringing that light into the dark tunnels.

The Transfiguration does not call us to be "a light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel," waiting for people lost in the dark to blunder their way towards us. The church is to take the light of truth, the gospel and glory of Christ, boldly into the tunnel. There is always a tunnel lurking right outside our ring of light. Will we move forward and further into that tunnel with the light of the gospel? If we will follow Christ this way then all kinds of possibilities exist for us.

Harvey Pennick, a famous golf instructor, was coaching a woman who went on to win the Texas Amateur Women's Championship. He coached her right up to the minute of her tee times, and that moment the woman said to Pennick, "Well, I have to go out and play now." And he replied, "What do you mean, you have to go out and play? You get to go out and play." If we have to enter the tunnel at the end of the light we are in trouble. But, if we get to enter the tunnel at the end of the light, then we are ready to follow Christ Jesus.

Fred Rogers, whose TV show for children was watched for over twenty-five years, gave the baccalaureate address at Boston University several years ago. He told the story about a lad who wrote to him. The boy told of his troubled childhood, and severe abuse. The lad would sneak into the living room against his parents' orders, to watch "Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood." The boy named Tony wrote Fred Rogers that he considered Mr. Rogers his only friend.

Fortunately, Tony was also able to eventually write about being removed from the abusive situation. About his new foster father he said: "My new dad has shown me that if I take care of the present, I can take care of forever at the same time. The mistake so many people make is that we choose to push away those things that can increase our capacity to love."

This morning the sign out in front of the church reads: "Where There Is Love There Is Life." That is true, but in the everyday mountaintop possibilities it is also true: "Where There Is Life There Is Love - We Simply Have To See It, Grab Hold Of It, And Pass It On!"

Our mountaintop moments are those moments where our capacity to love as God loves is increased. Experiences on the mountain uplift us, but mountaintop experiences in the valley are where as disciples we experience Christ's presence and love. The fullness of life is not lived at the top of some mountain. It is no place for us to stay.

We must come down. We must go on. We must walk with Jesus into the tomorrows that can be filled with difficulty, because they are also the tomorrows that are filled with hope and grace. Each moment has the capacity for us to experience the glory of God within our lives, our faith, and our discipleship. God is always present with us. We are the people who have to awaken to this divine presence. How do we do this? We remember God's declaration: "This is my Son, my Chosen, listen to him!"