Often on Transfiguration Sunday the sermon that is offered is the standard spiritual high that takes place on the mountaintop and the inevitable fact that everyone must come off the mountaintop and live life in the real world. It is on the mountain that God—the Holy—is encountered and signifies a spiritual high point. That is exactly what the disciples have there top of that mountain . . . they see Jesus change before their eyes . . . they witness the affirmation of Moses and Elijah, and they know that they are on holy ground. They are experiencing the ultimate epiphany.
Of course, the writer of Luke’s gospel goes on to tell us what happened next . . . “a cloud appeared and covered them, and they were afraid as they entered the cloud.” Then a voice proclaims that Jesus is the Son of God—listen to him. Then—POOF!—it was over and there was Jesus standing there. Fearful of what they had just witness the disciples tell no one what happened up there on the mountain.
According to the version of the bible that we read, the New International Version, the writer tells us that the disciples were afraid. Now I like the way it is over in some of the other translations of the bible. Instead of being “afraid” the disciples were “terrified”. I think that “terrified” is a better description especially when one considers what happens as they come down off of the mountain and back into the “real” world.
Luke tells us that the group encounters a large crowd. Out of the crowd a man asks for Jesus to look at his son who is possessed. He had asked the disciples to drive the spirit it out, but they could not. Jesus is upset with the news and lets his disciples know that he is not happy with them. Then he heals the boy.
Jesus isn’t happy. Listen to the words that Jesus speaks to his disciples: “You unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I stay with you and put up with you?” Those do not sound like words of encouragement. I don’t know about you but whenever I have encountered the disappointment and frustration from someone in my life that I held in esteem . . . well, it scared me . . . made me afraid . . . even terrified me. I am sure that the disciples—especially Peter, James, and John who had had that spiritual moment on the mountaintop—were scared. They had disappointed Jesus.
Faith is tough . . . tough to live. Sitting up there on a mountaintop surrounded by all that is holy sure feels good . . . so who wouldn’t want to stay up there for as long as possible. Isn’t that the reason that the disciples volunteered to build shelter for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah? Bask in all the feel-good vibes going around. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I do know that I wished I could live up there on the mountaintop when I had my big encounter with God. It is there that we know God . . . experience God . . . and come to know God’s love and grace for us. And it is where we begin to understand Jesus and his purpose . . . his role in this adventure of faith. After all it is Jesus who is to show “the way”.
Jesus’ way is to be our way. We are to live the words that he spoke. We are to do as he has done. He has shown us how it is to be done. Repeatedly he showed the disciples . . . he believed in his disciples . . . and yet, they could not heal the boy. There was a disconnect between them and the faith they were called to live. Coming down off that mountain they were beginning to realize that faith was more than sitting around a campfire singing Kum Ba Ya. Faith was much more . . . it was living one’s life for another. This realization terrified them.
The terrifying reality of faith is that Jesus expects us to live it. Jesus doesn’t want us to just believe it, Jesus wants us to do it. When we look around the world in which we live . . . when we consider everything that is happening around us . . . when we recognize the terrible shape that the world is in . . . it is terrifying to think what role our faith should play in such chaos. What can we do? What can we do to remedy any of the catastrophic craziness swirling around us . . . how do we stop war? How do feed the starving? How do we stop injustice . . . prejudice . . . hatred . . . all the divisiveness? How do we end poverty? How do we free the oppressed? How do we love the least of these?
All of which Jesus calls us to do.
Terrifying to consider such a proposition, isn’t it?
Faith as spoken about by Jesus . . . as demonstrated by Jesus . . . moves beyond mere belief. It moves into action. Faith is not coming to church every Sunday. Faith is not reading and praying daily. Faith is not putting a little extra in the collection plate. It is not belonging to a fellowship group. It is not proclaiming to care. Faith is love in action . . . it is doing something about which we encounter or experience.
There is the old sermon illustration that has probably been used millions of times about a little boy who is finally allowed to go to the grocery store for his mother. The little guy runs to the store, gathers everything on his mother’s list, and pays for it. He is so proud of himself and what he is doing that he does see the curb . . . and he trips. The bag of groceries goes flying in the air and with a loud crash the contents fly all over the street. There are broken jars, smashed eggs, crushed cookies, smashed bread everywhere. The boy begins to cry . . . he blew it. His mother was going to be mad. The more that he thought about it the harder he cried. He didn’t have any money to get new groceries. As far as he was concerned it was the end of the world.
Now a lot of adults witnessed the whole accident take place and they all ran over there to help the boy. A circle formed around the boy as he cried. A few reached down and patted the boy on the back exclaiming that everything would be all right. Everyone was attempting to make the boy feel better. But he kept crying.
Finally, a man came up and asked what was going on. The people told him that they were concerned for the boy . . . that they cared for him . . . but nothing they did comforted the child. The man just shook his head, reached in his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Then he said, “How much do you really care when you only offer words? I care enough to give this child twenty dollars to replace what has been broken. How much do any of you really care?” Then he handed the twenty to the boy.
Suddenly the boy felt some hope. Stopped crying and ran back into the store to try one more time.
To reach out and do something . . . to do something that makes a difference . . . that is faith. Jesus believed that his disciples could do that. He truly did and that is why he is disappointed in our reading this morning. His disciples failed the test. When there had been an opportunity to do something to make a difference, they could not do it.
There is no shortage in any of our lives to live our faith . . . to reach out and do something . . . to make a difference . . . to build the kingdom of God. Jesus believes that we can do it . . . and yet, it terrifies us. It terrifies us because we understand the immensity of the problems we are facing in the world today . . . what can one person do?
We can try.
Another age-old sermon illustration is about a man walking a long a beach after a tropical storm has come through. Littered across the beach are thousands of starfish. They are dying because they are no longer in the water. Ahead of him he sees a young girl bending over, picking up a starfish, and throwing it back into the ocean. Approaching her the man tells her that there are too many of them and that she could never make a difference. It was impossible to save them all. It would make no difference.
The little girl bent over, picked up the starfish, and tossed it into the water. Then she looked at the man and said, “It makes a difference to that one.”
We begin where we are with what we encounter and experience. We reach out to those around us . . . one starfish at a time. And if enough of us start doing it others will too. That is how we change the world we live in . . . we do something no matter how terrifying it might be. And, if it doesn’t . . . well at least we know we tried. That is all that Jesus wants . . . he wants us to try. Amen.
