Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”
When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
Have you heard about the spiritual “revival” at Asbury University?
Asbury University is a private Christian school in Wilmore, Kentucky. It identifies as “non-denominational,” but has ties to the Wesleyan-Holiness movement. Which means, I think, that it’s inclined toward the Methodist institution, in not so many words.
Anyway, apparently they’re experiencing a surprising, unintended, unplanned, Holy Spirit-induced, good old-fashioned “revival,” there – and have been since a week ago, Wednesday as far as I could tell.
See, Wednesday is when Asbury University has its regularly-scheduled, weekly chapel, as many small, private, religiously affiliated undergraduate colleges and universities do. And at Asbury – like so many other schools – students are required to attend some number of these 10 a.m., Wednesday morning, chapel services each semester.
And last Wednesday, something odd happened.
After the benediction, when worship was supposed to be over; when, I’m guessing, students usually pull out their phones, put on their coats, and shuffle off to their next class, to the cafeteria for lunch, or back to bed … they didn’t leave. Many, or most, maybe all of them – students, professors, staff and worship leaders – just stayed.
They stuck around… singing quietly, praying like they meant it, reading Scripture, publicly confessing their sins, even. Small groups of prayer circles formed. People raised their arms in praise. Some knelt at the altar. Some prostrated themselves on the floor. According to those who’ve witnessed it, the space was filled with peace and quiet and music and joy and light and love and all the good vibes.
Ultimately, people began to come and go, but the praying and worshiping, reading and confessing continued. The place has been packed – standing room only – according to a professor of theology from the seminary across the street, who walked over so he could see it to believe it.
AND students have been showing up from other schools – the University of Kentucky, Ohio Christian, Lee University, Georgetown College, Mt. Vernon Nazarene University – Purdue and Indiana Wesleyan University, even – just to name a few. I saw some Asbury alumni from right here in New Pal posting about it on Facebook, too.
And I find it fascinating. My skeptical instincts, some of what I’ve read about it, and my limited experience with such things tempt me to be critical of it, but I’m not going there. It’s not something that ever happened in chapel when I was an undergrad – not that I would have been there to notice. (They didn’t take attendance at Capital University.) And if it’s all it’s cracked up to be for those who are experiencing it, more power to them.
Anyway, all of this lasted for at least a week – it was still happening until THIS Wednesday, anyway, when I sat down to start thinking about this sermon and about today and about what we call “Transfiguration Sunday” around here – an event, for what it’s worth, I would have been equally skeptical about back in the day.
Because it seems like a spiritual revival of sorts took place on that mountain with Jesus, Peter, James and John. Jesus took them up the mountain “after six days,” we’re told, which is another way of saying, “on the seventh day,” which means we’re supposed to draw some meaningful connections to what happened when Moses took a hike up another mountain, “on the seventh day” as we heard about in our first reading from Exodus. Moses came down with the Ten Commandments, remember, after a transformative, transfiguring moment of his own up on there on Mount Sinai.
And in order to make that connection even more clearly, the disciples see Jesus in conversation with Moses – and Elijah, too – as a sign and declaration of his prophetic status and succession as the Messiah… the next … and last … and final Word … worth listening to … as God’s Chosen One … anointed … beloved prophet of all prophets.
So, however and whatever happened up on that mountain with Jesus – by way of his face that shined like the sun and his dazzling white clothes, in the appearance of those ghosts from the past, that talking cloud, and God’s profound declarations about his belovedness – the point was to reveal for those carefully chosen disciples (Peter, James and John) that Jesus was something special; that he was worth listening to, learning from, and following.
And we’d like to imagine the disciples were changed by all of this – Peter, James and John, I mean. They were knocked to their knees by what they saw and heard, after all. They were filled with fear and awe at what they witnessed. Maybe they prostrated themselves, raised their hands in worship, maybe they prayed, silently or aloud. And, like the students, faculty and staff at Asbury University, last week, Peter wants them to stay … to make it all last: “Lord, if you wish, I’ll build three dwellings here; one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah, too.”
But, as great and holy as it was… as mighty and transformative as it seemed to be… that doesn’t happen. It doesn’t last for long. Jesus seems to nip it in the bud pretty quickly. He comes to the disciples, touches them – seemingly snaps them out of their spiritual shock and awe – and they head back down the mountain. And as they go, he tells them to keep all of this on the down low. He tells them not to tell anyone about any of it until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.
And this, for me, is where the lesson, the inspiration, the challenge and the hope about whatever happened on that mountaintop with Jesus and – whatever may be happening at Asbury University – matters. Because the lesson, inspiration, challenge and hope of whatever spiritual renewal or revival we’re looking for, longing for, or experiencing shows up in what happens as a result of it all.
Because what happens next for Jesus, as God’s beloved, anointed, chosen one, was even more surprising, unbelievable and awe-inspiring than what happened on that mountaintop.
He healed the sick and gave sight to the blind. He taught about loving the lost and forgiving without limit. He chastised and challenged the rich and the wealthy. He preached against the powerful. He talked politics and protested injustice. He overturned the tables in the temple.
And after all of that – because of all that, and more – Jesus gets crucified. He shares a meal with his friends; he is arrested; he is denied and betrayed by the closest of his followers – Peter, James and John, from this morning’s mountain, among them – and then he dies a horrible, humiliating, public and painful death – whipped, beaten, mocked, spit upon, crowned with thorns and nailed to a cross.
So, I kind of think Jesus is saying – on his way down the mountain this morning: “don’t go yapping about this mountaintop stuff – this little ‘transfiguration moment’ up here on the hill – unless or until it amounts to something; until you’re able to see and connect it with the rest of what’s to come.”
“Don’t talk about spiritual renewal or faithful transformation unless or until it leads to some measure of sacrifice, in your life, for the sake of others.”
“Don’t talk about spiritual revival or transfiguration unless or until it comes from – or leads to – a place of humility, justice, mercy and peace.”
“Don’t talk about spiritual renewal or faithful transformation unless or until it has something to do with a new way of living and moving and being in the world; unless or until something changes in you that does something to change the world around you.”
So, may whatever spiritual revival or renewal or transfiguration we seek as God’s people in this world inspire us not to stay put or to cling to the mountaintop moments of our lives for the sake of the mountaintop moments of our lives. But may renewal, revival and transfiguration fill us, inspire us and move us down from the mountain, beyond our sanctuary, off of our couches and out of our kitchens – to the lonely places, toward the least among us, in the face of the darkness and the powers that be, for the sake of a world that is ripe for the live-changing, life-giving hard, holy grace and good news that belong to us all in Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen
