"Glimpses"
Mark 9:2-9
February 22, 2009
St. Paul United Methodist Church
Rev. John Andrew Fleming
Some of you may remember Charles Kuralt, the host of CBS's Sunday morning news show of a few years ago. I am sure that you recorded the broadcast because it airs when you ought to be making your way to Sunday school and Worship. Charles died on Independence Day, 1997, some eleven years ago. He was famous for a many things and infamous for his personal life, but his On the Road segments were legendary. Six hundred or so were recorded about his travels across America.
In one of them, he and his photographer, a man named Izzy, unexpectedly spent a night on Alaska's Mount McKinley. It was supposed to be a day trip, but the plane that had flown him in couldn't make it to fly him out, and so the two spent the night in a cabin. The cabin was rustic and the two had to hike a mile or so to get to it. I am sure that Charles was not accustomed to that.
As I said, the cabin was rustic. There was no one there to welcome them, cook their meals, check them in, or turn down their sheets. The beds were attached to the walls and the linens were in a cabinet. The cabin was one big room, heated by a wood burning fireplace. There was no sign of an outside world. No radio or television could be found anywhere. and there was no sign of an outside world.
Besides all of the things that were missing and staring Charles and Izzy in the face, the two were amazed at a bank of huge windows that nearly took up an entire wall of the five walled cabin. The view, even at night, was breath taking! When he saw it Charles began to wonder if the pilot of that little plane left them there on purpose, as if to say, "You want to see America, here it is!"
Charles tells that for one night he and Izzy had the best seats in the world looking out at nature's remarkable show. The two stayed up most of the night. They were filled with awe. Writing about it, Charles penned these words, "It was a night I would never forget."
Literally it was a mountaintop experience. Because our gospel lesson is what it is this morning, I've been doing a little thinking about mountaintop experiences. I have had a few in my lifetime, a couple of them actually happened on mountains. One happened in Colorado and one in the Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee.
I know a Sunday school class in our church who would speak of their annual retreat to Petit Jean as a mountaintop experience, one they cherish and remember and long to return to.
I also want to say this, not all mountaintop experiences happen on mountains. They can happen just about anywhere. For some they happen as we sit on the beach, with the sun rising or setting, depending on if you're a morning person or not, as the waves rush in and then retreat again. It could happen while you are sipping a cup of hot coffee or a cool morning as you sit on your deck overlooking a garden. It could happen while you are holding a baby, perhaps your baby, maybe for the first time. Why it could happen here, on a Sunday morning, maybe down there at the communion rail. Or while singing a song or listening to a sermon.
A mountaintop experience is any moment in time that we don't want to leave, that we wish would last forever, and any one that causes our souls to say, "It is good for us to be here!" Now I want to be sensitive today, because there is a chance that you haven't had those experiences, or at least not many of them. If that is you, you're not alone. It was John Wesley, a spiritual giant in my eyes, who wanted such an experience. His journals tells us that on May 24, 1738, he went unwillingly to church and was changed when he heard, of all things, Luther's thoughts on the book of Romans. Us Methodists know that on that night John Wesley felt his heart strangely warmed. That night he was sure of his salvation.
What I know about mountaintop experiences is that you cannot schedule them. You can't plan a retreat and know for sure that a spiritual experience will happen. I also know this about a mountaintop experience. When they do happen and when you try to tell someone else about them, you will get a glazed look. It is almost impossible to explain such an experience to those who haven't had the one you just had.
I think Jesus knew that and so as he was coming down the mountain with Peter and James and John, he told them not to tell anyone about what had happened up on that mountain. Who would have believed them anyway?
Mark begins this lesson by writing, "Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain, apart, by themselves." What had happened six days earlier is important and significant. It was then that Jesus had turned to his disciples to ask what the talk around the coffee pot was about him. He wanted to know what others were saying about who he really was. The disciples answer, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets." When Jesus asks who they think he is, Peter quickly speaks and says, "You are the Messiah." On the heels of that Jesus speaks of his arrest, suffering, death, and resurrection. Peter speaks for the group when he says, "Lord, that's not really what we signed up for. We thought we were hooking up with a celebrity, a miracle worker, someone who was really going places. We had no idea you were headed towards a cross. We signed up for glory! Where is the glory?"
That is the mood as Jesus takes Peter and James and John up on what we believe is Mt. Herman, a mountain that reached nine thousand feet up towards the heavens. We signed up for glory! Where is the glory? Peter and James and John are about to see it. Mark writes, "And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them."
If that's not enough, as they squint their eyes, they see Moses and Elijah standing with Jesus talking to him. Peter is overwhelmed. James and John must have been, too. Mark tells us that Peter spoke out of fear. I don't buy that. I think Peter spoke out of awe. Peter said what any of us would when we are in the midst of something that feels so powerful. "Lord, it is good for us to be here!" Peter wants to get his fellow disciples in on a building program.
That's the real temptation, isn't it? When we have an experience or a time, a moment that we want to treasure, we want to stay in that moment. But we cannot stay on mountaintops forever. I like what theologian Henry Drummond said about mountains, "Mountains aren't made for us to live on. We ascend them. We climb them. We soar to their heights and catch a bigger glimpse of the world around us. But we don't live there. We don't tarry there. Streams that begin on the mountains quickly descend to gladden the valleys below." It is the glimpse that God is after on that mountain, a glimpse of God's glory and an understanding of who this Jesus really is.
Look at what happens next. A cloud encompasses the retreat. Out of the cloud comes God's booming voice. God has spoken in this gospel before. At Jesus' baptism God said, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." You get the idea that the voice on that baptismal day was for Jesus and Jesus alone. Now God speaks for the benefit of Peter, James, and John. Listen to what God says, "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" Listen to him. He may not say what you want him to say, but listen to him. He may not go where you want him to go, but go with him. He may not take the path that you would have chosen for him, but take the path anyway and listen to him as he walks along.
Mark tells us that after the voice boomed, the disciples looked around and there was only Jesus and the experience was nearly over. The four head back down the mountain. The voice they now hear is Jesus' voice that tells them not to say anything about what happened up on the mountain until the time is right. They didn't dare to. God had just told them to listen to Jesus and besides, who would have believed their tall tale?
Let me bring this a little closer to home for us. Every year I struggle with this passage. We read it and I preach from it as the season of Lent draws near. It comes at the end of the season called Epiphany. What happened on the mountain is an epiphany, the greatest of all of them.
We may or may not have had a mountaintop experience, but most of us have had epiphanies, light bulb moments. At the time what we heard or what we saw did not make sense. Later it did. These moments could be as simple as a strong feeling that as you walked along, someone was walking with you. I heard of a man who felt that way. He described it as saying, "It felt like my best friend was walking beside me and yet no one was there, or were they? It was just a glimpse, just a moment. That's all it was.
I don't know, maybe I am wrong, but then again, maybe I am very right. These moments happen and later they make sense. My sister whispered to me as she went off to her surgery to make sure the doctors did everything they could. Her surgery was to be simple. Did she know something? Maybe. For me later it was an epiphany.
The disciples came down that mountain and walked with Jesus towards Jerusalem. When all was said and done and they saw his resurrection, they must have understood. But up on that mountain, it was but a glimpse. Let us pray.