Mountains Beyond Mountains (Transfiguration Sermon)

March 6, 2011
Transfiguration of the Lord Sunday
Northridge Presbyterian Church
Exodus 24:12-18; Matthew 17:1-9


“No one comes to this mountain by accident.” Those were the words uttered by Chaplain Phil Dicks at the YMCA of the Rockies/Snow Mountain Ranch on a Sunday morning. I spent a summer working as a chaplain’s assistant at Snow Mountain Ranch in Winter Park after my first year in college. After several weeks of hearing the same welcome in worship, and growing annoyed at the lack of variety, I asked my boss, the chaplain, “why that phrase?“ The chaplain noted our chapel was a transient congregation, filled with folks who come to the Rocky Mountains for a variety of reasons. He noted many come to the mountains to get away from something or to reconnect, and they needed to be reminded of God’s presence in the mountains while worshiping in that space.

Chaplain Phil, or “Chap” as we all called him, was an avid fly fisherman, outdoorsmen, preacher who believed people experienced God in creation. He was fascinated with the grandeur of the rocky mountain range, and sought to pass that awe on to the congregation and Y staff.

No one comes to this mountain by accident. Indeed, as the summer wore on and I worked to coordinate weddings at our beautiful outdoor chapel, planned and led worship and Bible Studies, sold fishing licenses, signed guests up for fly fishing classes, and even filled in to teach a fly fishing class once…Yes, the chaplain’s office was also the fish gear office.. .I learned that staff and guests alike came to the mountains for respite, reunion, and reconnection.

Respite…Reunion…Reconnection. Many of the Y staff came for those things as well. We were drawn to work for below minimum wage and spend a summer in dank dorms because it promised a summer of hiking, biking, camping, in one of the most beautiful places on earth. Many of my friends were searching for something that summer. One was grieving the death of his college sweet heart, another struggling with questions of identity, and all of us college staff wondered just what we’d do and be when we “grew up”.

During that summer a growing sense of call emerged for many, including myself. Post work shift conversations would center around the deep questions of life. It was intoxicating to live 10,000 miles above sea level in a global village in the middle of the rocky mountain range.

I know many of you have spent time in Colorado. You can picture the scene of both passages, of what it’s like to spend time on a mountain, overlooking vistas. You might even know that feeling of respite and reconnection that a mountain top experience can provide.

Jesus, James, John, and Peter didn’t climb up the mountain by accident. Allow me to give a bit of context. At this point in Matthew Jesus has led his disciples to Caesera Philippi, the resort region. In the chapter prior to this one, Peter has confessed Jesus is the Christ and immediately following this awareness, Jesus predicts his death. Six days later, presumably on the Sabbath, Jesus gathers a small group including Peter, James, and John to get away, to pray. This is not the first time Jesus has come away for some intentional time of reflection, nor will it be the last.

What is unique about this mountain top Sabbath is the transfiguration. Transfiguration, now that’s a word we don’t hear too often in our vernacular. According to the text, “Jesus’ face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.” The glory of God, a fuller representation of Jesus’ identity is made clear. Moses and Elijah appear with him, representative of the prophets and the law, and engage Jesus in conversation.

Peter, in typical disciple fashion gets a bit overwhelmed, missing the point, and broaches the topic of staying for a while, tabernacling in booths. And then from the cloud the voice of God speaks “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” This is the second time God speaks audibly in the Gospel of Matthew, the first at Jesus’ baptism. The voice of God would stop anyone in their tracks, even hasty Peter.

What a startling course of events on that mountain top! The response to the transfiguration is a healthy mix of fear and awe, and then a desire to stay a while and relish the experience. Peter, James, and John know what is to come: death.
Fear of the unknown, a desire to control, avoidance. These are all natural human responses in the face of death or in the midst of an awesome experience. There is nothing the disciples can do to prolong the Sabbath or change the fate of Jesus.

Stanley Hauerwas points out in his commentary on this passage, that “Like Peter we desire to secure in place, if not tie down and domesticate, the wild spirit of God’s kingdom. We do not wish to face anew the challenge of God’s presence. We would like to make the success of the past our own without having to have the courage of those who followed Jesus into the unknown. Yet, the church dies or is unfaithful when the achievements of the past are used to ignore God’s command to ‘listen.’”

Peter, James, and John knew Jesus was going to die. If they were paying attention, they could see that Jesus had been teaching, healing, and leading them toward his death. The inevitability of the cross weighed on them. And so, they began to look for alternatives, for a way to stop time. Peter wants to build a shelter away from the world, to cloister from reality and the suffering to come.

There is a Haitian proverb that goes like this: “Deye Mon Gen Mon.” "Beyond mountains there are mountains": as you solve one problem, another problem presents itself, and so you go on and try to solve that one too.

Tracy Kidder wrote a biography of Dr. Paul Farmer titled, Mountains Beyond Mountains. The Haitian proverb is a metaphor for the true story of Paul Farmer. Paul Farmer is a doctor, Harvard professor, renowned infectious-disease specialist, anthropologist, the recipient of a MacArthur "genius" grant, world-class Robin Hood, Farmer was brought up in a bus and on a boat, and in medical school found his life’s calling: to diagnose and cure infectious diseases and to bring the lifesaving tools of modern medicine to those who need them most.

Tracy Kidder follows Paul Farmer around for several years, from the halls of Brigham Hospital in Cambridge MA, to the mountains of Haiti. As the story of Famer unfolds, the reader learns that Farmer cares tremendously for his patients. He even goes so far as to hike for a day to bring a patient their medicine and a bag of food that will cause the medicine to be more effective.

This magnificent book shows how radical change can be fostered in situations that seem insurmountable. We learn Farmer is motivated, not by the desire to do good. His work and calling spring from a deep faith, and from that faith hope. Paul Farmer understands that at the heart of the proverb, mountains beyond mountains, is hope. As Famer solves one problem, another problem presents itself, and so you go on and try to solve that one too because of hope.

Now, you and I are not Paul Farmer, but I think there is something to be gleaned from his courage. Paul Farmer viewed the mountains as sets of challenges to ascend and descend with hope.

Looking back at the text, Peter is not like mountain climber, Paul Farmer excited to descend one mountain with hopeful anticipation only to climb another. Peter, for all his rushing around and hastiness doesn’t understand the significance of the moment and wants to camp out for a while. God speaks, stopping Peter in his tracks, issuing a command for Peter, James, and John to listen to Jesus, the Son of God. But, God’s presence is not merely in voice form. Remember, Jesus is there with them in all his glory. Jesus, the son of God, the one who is transfigured. Jesus speaks as well saying “Get up and do not be afraid.” Jesus also reaches out and touches them, offering a hand and a word of comfort.

No one comes to this mountain by accident, especially not this group at this time. One commentator notes, “The mountain was the way for God to prepare a human band of companions for the sacred journey, to offer something to hold onto when they descend to the crushing reality of the world below.”

It turns out that no one has come to that mountain by accident. Whether for respite or challenge, all parties the disciples and Jesus alike have been reoriented. In Jesus’ transfiguration we are assured that Jesus is indeed the son of God and the son of man. In that mountain top reunion Peter, James, and John see Jesus is the one who fulfilled the law given through Moses and the one proclaimed by the prophets, illustrated by Elijah.

But, in that moment when Jesus reaches out his hand to touch them, Peter, James, and John feel and know that Jesus is Immanuel, God with us…in the flesh. In that moment the paradox of comfort in the midst of suffering is present. Yes, Jesus is with them and the glory of God surrounds them, but soon they will descend that mountain toward death.

That hand clasp though is the tangible hope in the text. God offers the disciples something to hold onto as they descend. It is a sign and seal of God’s grace and love, that has been present and will sustain them as they journey through the cross. God’s glory and majesty, God’s peace are present not only in light, and audible voice, but in a hand clasp.

We cannot escape God, even as we travel down from the mountain to a valley.

If you have ever had a mountain top experience, you know that the most challenging piece is re-entry. Initially you have energy, and a clear focus…new ideas and a fresh perspective. Eventually, with time, the mountain top experience high fades and you fall back into the rhythm of your daily life. The challenge of the mountain, while great and anxiety producing also gets woven into you your life, shaping you into the person who sits here now in these pews.

Like the disciples, you and I need something to hold onto in this world. You know that most of life is not lived on a mountain top, but in the valleys of grief and loss, or in the level places of the car pool lane or the history test.
Like the disciples, we too know that we cannot escape God. God finds us wherever we are, most often in the ordinary moments in a staff meeting, on a hike, serving with your neighbor, in prayer. But, on Sunday when we come together in worship, we encounter God in worship in a particular way, with intentionality. Worship is a mini-mountaintop experience we encounter the glory of God differently.

In worship, we pause, and we listen, just as Peter, James, and John did on that mountain. We encounter the glory of God tangibly in the sacraments. John Calvin called the sacraments signs and seals of God’s grace. Sitting before this Table of Grace, you are fed and nourished to go out into the world bearing Christ’s peace. Coming to the waters of the Baptismal Font you receive the assurance that you are claimed as God’s own.

In a few minutes I will baptize Hugo and Mia Cortez. Baptism is one of those mountain top experiences that is both comfort and challenge. It is comforting to know that we are claimed as God’s own and sealed in God’s love. We keep water in the font each week to remind each one of you that you are claimed as God’s own child. I poured water into the font during the assurance of pardon because our baptismal identity is inextricably linked to the grace in that assurance or pardon.

Baptism is also a challenge, because baptism is not an ending, but a beginning of a journey, not a place we stay, but a place we emerge from. Upon baptism we have the challenging work of fulfilling our end of the covenant, to journey in discipleship with Natalie, Nathan, Hugo, and Mia. You as a congregation will make promises to raise Mia and Hugo in the faith, to nurture them as they grow.

As you know, raising children and nurturing them in the faith is challenging work. It means some of us will volunteer to teach, others will take a week of vacation to attend the youth summer camp at MO ranch, (we still need a couple of male volunteers) and still others will journey alongside parents when they have questions and concerns. It takes a family of faith to live into our baptismal identity.

We will all descend the mountain in search of more mountains, not because we’re perfect or because we have it all figured out, but because we are people of hope, claimed as the Triune God’s own, and God is there holding our hand.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.




References:
-Matthew Commentary by Stanley Hauerwas (Brazos Press)
-Feasting on the Word Commentary
-Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder

Thanks to Rev. C. Graham Ford for his conversation with be about the text and baptismal identity.