Transfiguration Sunday
Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 27; Luke 9:28-43a
St Andrew’s Scots Kirk, Colombo, March 2 2025
Jesus took James and John and Peter
high upon a mountain,
they saw him wrapped in shining light,
and their hearts were filled with wonder.
Strange things happen on high mountains in the stories our Bibles tell.
On Mount Sinai, Moses has a close encounter with God. He comes away with a shining face and a charter for how the Israelites as God’s people should live.
On Mount Horeb, Elijah has a close encounter with God. But God is not in the earthquake, wind and fire. God is in the sound of sheer silence, the still small voice that, if we are Christians, we may interpret as the Holy Spirit.
On Mount Tabor, or so Christian tradition has it, Jesus has a close encounter with Moses and Elijah. His face changes and his clothes become dazzling white.
*
The second world war ended in 1945, although 80 years later we are still living with its consequences.
After the war, however, another strange thing happened. All over the world, Christians began to write new hymns, so many that it was quickly labelled a “hymn explosion”.
One of the leading figures in this hymn explosion is Marty Haugen, an American Lutheran from Wanamingo, Minnesota, born in 1950, a year later than me.[1]
Thirty years ago, he wrote a song cycle based on the Gospel of Mark, full of beautifully simple melodies, that focuses on the compassion of Jesus for the outcast and his steadfast patience with disciples who are slow to catch on.[2]
“So good to be here” is his song about the transfiguration of Jesus. As I say, it’s based on the Gospel of Mark, but it works just as well for Matthew or Luke.
*
It begins conventionally enough. Its opening words are the words with which I began:
Jesus took James and John and Peter
high upon a mountain,
they saw him wrapped in shining light,
and their hearts were filled with wonder.
But this gives way to a second section, in which Haugen pokes gentle fun at the three disciples. We may enjoy this, until we realize that the fun he pokes at James and John and Peter, he also pokes gently at us.
*
This is what the three disciples sing:
It’s so nice on the mountain of Tabor,
no crosses to bear, no worries or care,
and so peaceful to rest from our labour,
it’s so good to be here with Jesus.
From up here the Romans look tiny,
from up here all our problems seem small,
all the world is wondrous and shiny,
it’s too much to take in it all.
It’s so nice on the mountain of Tabor,
no journey to make, no life to forsake,
what a moment to treasure and savour,
it’s so good to be here with Jesus.
It’s so nice on the mountain of Tabor,
no people in need with faces to feed,
when you’ve had it to here with your neighbour,
it’s so good to be here with Jesus.
*
But in the third section of the song, Jesus and a backing chorus remind the three disciples that following him is not simply a matter of enjoying the peace and comfort of the mountaintop.
We must walk down the mountain
to the path down below,
there is no time to linger,
you have so far to go,
though the way may be weary
and your spirits be low,
walk on, walk on into the valley…
From the peace of the mountain
to the trials down below,
you are called now to labour,
be the seeds God will sow,
bring new hope, bring true healing
to that world of woe,
walk on, walk on into the valley.
Doesn’t sound nearly so much fun, does it?
We may feel inclined, like James and John and Peter, to stay with the peace and comfort of the mountaintop and forget about the valley.
But Jesus explains why they should come down from the mountain and get on with it.
Though some will mock and shame me,
and death will finally claim me,
yet I will rise anew to
go before you on the way…
When you must face tomorrow,
with all its pain and sorrow,
my love shall burn within you
so your hearts will know the way.
He is a servant Messiah, and he calls them, just as he calls us, to service too. But he will be with them, and his Spirit will show them what to do and where to go.
*
What Jesus explains to the three disciples, he explains also to us.
We too have mountaintop experiences from time to time.
We come to St Andrew’s to get married. But then we have to face the challenge of living together day by day.
We come to St Andrew’s to baptize our children. But then we have to face the challenge of bringing them up to be the best possible versions of themselves.
We come to St Andrew’s to bury our dead: friends or family that are dear to our hearts. The funeral service may bring us comfort and peace. But then we have to face the challenge of living without those who once played so large a role in our lives.
And what is true in the intimate context of our personal lives is also true in the larger context of our society and our world.
We come to St Andrew’s Sunday by Sunday to worship God, to grow in wisdom and understanding, to deepen our knowledge of God and our commitment to God.
But then we have to face the ringing challenge of the prophets.
The prophet Michah who tells us that the Lord requires of us to do justice, to love compassion, and to walk humbly with God.[3]
The prophet Jeremiah who says bluntly that to know God is to do justice, and not to do justice is not to know God.[4]
In the original context, we may remember, Jeremiah is confronting a bad king, a bad ruler, and challenging him to change his ways.
And Jesus of Nazareth, chief among the prophets who speak God’s word, who says that what we do to the least of his brothers and sisters, we do to him; and insofar as we don’t do it to them, it is to him – the one we claim to follow – that we fail to do it.[5]
In the tradition of the Orthodox churches, this is called the liturgy after the liturgy: not what we do in worship, but what we do after we leave the church.
We are left with the uncomfortable realization that we worship the one true God at least as much by what we do from Monday to Saturday as what we do in morning worship on Sunday.
*
Today, we celebrate the Lord’s Supper. The risen Christ invites us to his table and asks us to share bread and wine, giving thanks to the Father.
It is for us – at least, I hope it is – a mountaintop experience, a moment in which we are touched by the grace of God.
But the meaning of what we do today lies as much in what we do after this service as within it, as we go out into the world to love and serve the Lord by loving those who are all God’s children, just like us, and by serving those who, like us, are brothers and sisters of the risen Christ and therefore our brothers and sisters also.
We cannot eat the bread of life or take the cup of salvation without remembering that the Christ who invites us to the feast is the same Christ who calls us to feed the hungry, give the thirsty something to drink, welcome strangers, clothe those without clothing, and visit the sick and the incarcerated.
To know the one true God is to do justice. To follow the one true Christ is to do justice. Let us therefore eat, drink, and remember.
Prayer
Almighty and most merciful,
to those who seek you with a sincere heart
you reveal the beauty of your face.
Strengthen us in faith
to embrace the mystery of the cross,
and open our hearts to its transforming power;
that, clinging to your will for us,
we may walk the way of discipleship
as followers of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, forever and ever. Amen.
[1] See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marty_Haugen
[2] I borrow from an online review
[3] Micah 6:8
[4] Jeremiah 22:15-17
[5] Matthew 25:31-45