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| MS Herald
of Free Enterprise photo by Franz Golhen and made available as Public Domain. Wikipedia. |
SECOND
SUNDAY OF LENT (March 15th) 1987
READINGS
In last week’s
Gospel reading we
heard of an occasion on which Jesus drew aside from the
demands of daily life, and was led by the Spirit into a desert experience, an
experience of struggle with temptation. Now we find him once more withdrawing
from the crowds. This time for a very different sort of experience.
In today’s
Gospel reading, we hear of Jesus taking aside three of his closest disciples
and with them ascending a mountain. The experience that befalls the four is one
of those pinnacle experiences of life that fortunately occur rarely – too many
experiences of the mountain type would prove too demanding for the human soul
to manage. The experience that takes place is the experience that we have come
to know as the Transfiguration.
Exactly what
took place on the mountain it is hard to tell, for the account is rich in
symbolism and light on detail, but it would seem that the disciples experienced
a vivid vision. Three of the four gospel writers saw fit to include it in their
account, suggesting it was felt to be of great significance for the followers
of Jesus as they sought to live out their new found faith. Nothing has changed;
the passage has much from which we can learn.
Most of us
have heard numerous sermons preached on this passage, and in many ways I hope
we will hear many more. The experience on the mountain is a moving experience
in the life of our Lord, and of those of his disciples who were with him. As is
so often the case, the disciples misinterpret the events that befall them. That
the gospel writers learned of the disciples’ errors is testimony to the
humility of those first followers of Jesus.
The scene on
the mountain is a mystical scene of great beauty, often depicted in stained
glass windows, and particularly in the European
art of the Renaissance. But what does it mean for us?
What, as we
journey together through the season of Lent, are we to learn from these events?
As we prepare for our Lord’s death and the glorious events of Easter, what does
this Transfiguration mean for us?
In answer to
this I wish to take as my text one verse from our gospel passage. In verse 9,
the final verse, we read, “as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus
commanded them, ‘tell no one the vision, until the Son of Man is raised from
the dead’.”
The writer
emphasises two points. The first is the obvious point that they do all
return from the mountain experience. The second is that the meaning of the
mystical experience they share on the mountain cannot be explained except in
the light of our Lord’s death and resurrection.
So let us
first consider the question, “why did Jesus command his friends to silence?”
What is it about this mountain experience that is inexplicable except in the
light of the events of Easter?
All three
accounts in the gospels of the transfiguration scene tell us clearly of the
disciples’ misunderstanding of the events, and of their awe, even fear. We
should hardly be surprised. The prophet Malachi,
who was writing five centuries before these events took place, warned the
people of Israel to expect the return of Elijah, the ancient prophet, as a sign
of the coming of the Day
of the Lord. It was a vision a good Jew of our Lord’s lifetime would have
longed for, as the end of the trials of the people of God, the beginning of
the Kingdom of Heaven. It was a popular Jewish belief that Elijah had
never physically died, but had been assumed bodily into the presence of God.
Similarly,
some had begun to teach that Moses had likewise not died, and like Elijah had
been taken bodily to the presence of God. Imagine, then, the disciples’ awe and
fear when, on a mountain they were confronted by the vision for which their
people had longed for so long.
Was this
really to herald the coming Kingdom? The end of Roman rule? The reinstatement
of the free State of Israel? All these interpretations may have flashed through
the disciples’ minds. Whatever interpretation they took, this vision
represented for the disciples a sign of the end of life as they knew it.
Their response
is most sensible. They ask Jesus whether they should pitch a tent, provide a
place for their master to dwell with the two ancient figures. They are
recognising the enormity of the situation, and saying to Jesus, “Look, look,
the wonderful day has come. Let us take this moment, the moment of the
salvation of Israel, and treat it with the respect it deserves.”
Incidentally,
it is worth noting that both Mark and Matthew describe this event as
happening “after six days,” but failed to give a point of reference. The timing
should remind us of the time of Creation. It is after the sixth day of Creation
that God rests and pronounces, for the final and definitive time, “it is very
good.” Are the authors trying to tell us here that the Transfiguration
experiences are the eve of a New Creation, the new Kingdom of
God? Luke seems to use a different phrase that may well suggest the
same thing, telling us that the event took place after eight days, but again
without a reference point.
So in many
ways the three disciples were right. At the time of the transfiguration a new
dawn is breaking. But it is a dawn more radically new than
even the disciples expected. Only Jesus is fully aware of what the vision
means, and only he knows the cost at which the new era must be bought.
So he tells
his disciples that they must not attempt to restrict the scope of the vision
they have seen, must not limit it to the scope that they as Jews have been
brought up to long for and pray for. Matthew is writing his gospel for Jews who
have converted to the new Christian faith. To those new converts the message of
the Transfiguration would be only too apparent. The new dawn is about to break
not only for the Old Testament people of God, but for the whole of creation. It
is Matthew who concludes his gospel with the command to “go and make disciples
of every nation.”
The “no” that
Jesus gives in reply to his disciples is because the new era he is ushering in
is far more radical than they or anyone else could have realized. It is an era
that extends salvation to the Gentiles.
The death and resurrection of our Lord, which is the price that the new era is
to cost, is not to be the property of a chosen few, of the Jews, but
of all the world.
So Jesus tells
the disciples not to build a tent. Instead they are to wait until the meaning
of the vision they have witnessed becomes clear. Only when the Easter event has
taken place will they or the world know the meaning, the enormity of the
meaning of the vision they have witnessed.
And so to my
final point. The disciples come down from the mountain. Jesus,
if he is to be saviour of the world, cannot remain in a state of glory on the
mountain. He must instead come down, and set his face towards his own death,
towards the intense loneliness of the cross, towards seeming defeat, before the
magnificent meaning of his life can become apparent.
It is that
journey down from the transfiguration towards Jerusalem that we as a
parish are sharing as we travel together through Lent. If we are to follow our
Lord we must in some small way travel with him through his decision to enter
Jerusalem, through Gethsemane,
and on to the
Cross. That is why we observe Lent, and why Christians have done so for
seventeen hundred years. To understand the victory of the Cross by which we are
saved we must first understand something of the suffering.
That I believe
is the guts of this passage. Christ can be no saviour if we leave him in glory
on the mountain. As we approach our parish
mission we must be very clear that this is not the Christ we are to
proclaim it to the world. There can be no salvation for us and for our
neighbour if we avoid the tragedy, or as Paul puts
it, the scandal of the Cross.
There is for
our world no hope if we believe only in a Messiah who
remains in a state of glory on the Mountain of Transfiguration. Instead, we
rejoice because he comes down, descends to the Cross and to Hell, and only
then, on Easter morning, rises in the fullness of his glory. It is so we can
make no mistake about that that Jesus commands his disciples to silence and
descends the mountain.
I thank God
that he does, for otherwise we have nothing to say to those people tragically
killed in the English Channel shipping disaster, or to their families.[1] Without
the scandal of the Cross we have nothing to say to those who suffer tragic
illnesses, or to their families and loved ones. For we would be speaking only
of a saviour who knows glory, not suffering. We would have nothing to say to
the children of Soweto, or to the victims of the Gulf War, or Beirut, or
Afghanistan, or countless other tragedies.
But our Lord
comes down from the mountain. He comes down and turns towards Jerusalem,
towards the events of Easter. In doing so he brings the experience of suffering
into the very heart of God, and simultaneously brings God’s victory into the
very midst of suffering. So it is that as we journey together through Lent we
can rejoice in the knowledge that not only Good
Friday but the glorious event of Easter lie ahead.
So, to the Son
who comes down from the mountain and turn towards Jerusalem, that we might all
be saved, all be transfigured, be all blessing and honour, glory and power now
and forever.
[1] The
MS Herald of Free Enterprise capsized and sank at Zeebrugge on
March 6th, 1987, six days before this sermon was written. 193
passengers and crew lost their lives.
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