A mountaintop experience (Lk. 9:28–43)
As kids, we used to go on regular camping trips almost every school holiday break. Living in the south-west of WA at the time, we explored as far south as Albany and Esperance and as far north as Shark Bay and Monkey Mia.
One of my favourite trips was to the Stirling Ranges, about 330 kilometres south-east of Perth. It was springtime I think – I remember everything being green and a bit damp from the winter rain still.
During that trip, we went on a hike up Bluff Knoll, the highest point in the range at 1100 metres above sea level. Looking back, mum and dad had a lot of faith in us kids to get through a 6.8km round trip up a mountain... But we did it.
The best part, of course, was getting to the top. We took the chance to catch our breath before soaking in the panoramic views of the range. We weren’t in a rush to get down either, so we had Cup-a-Soups from the Thermos and I think dad called his dad to wish him a happy birthday.
It’s such a good memory because it was a reward for the hard hike up, we had the top of the bluff to ourselves, and we just enjoyed the moment for what it was. I wonder what “mountaintop” stories you might have.
Another “mountaintop experience” (in more ways than one) is of course the Transfiguration. Jesus takes his three lead disciples in Peter, James, and John on a hike with a plan to pray when they get to the top. Jesus must have been praying for a while for them to be “heavy with sleep,” and then we hear what they saw when they were woken up by a very bright light.
Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Peter apparently knows exactly who the two men are who are standing and chatting with Jesus – Moses and Elijah, of all people – and acts on instinct. “Stay a while! Let’s set up a few tents.” He hasn’t got a clue what’s going on really, but he knows that he wants this moment to last. It seems important. It seems big. It seems like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. Let’s prolong this as much as we can. Someone get the Cup- a-Soups and the Thermos!
As if seeing a shining Jesus and two absolute Old Testament legends wasn’t enough, the clouds roll in and God speaks: “This is my Son, my Chosen One. Listen to him.” I wonder what that sounded like... And then, before anyone can think or say anything, Jesus is alone, the disciples are completely stunned, and it’s time to head back down. Oh, and don’t tell anyone about this, OK?
After such a massive high, you can imagine what it must’ve felt like to come crashing down again. There have only been a few big, significant, emotional days in my life and after each of them I got home and just crashed for a couple of days. I’m not a big sleeper either – I just zone out and become a bit of a zombie. Wedding day, ordination day, and installation day are the ones that spring to my mind. I wonder if you have a similar experience yourself.
Once you’ve re-surfaced and it’s time to get back to normal life, it can feel a bit strange. Maybe disbelief that all of that just happened to me. Maybe even a bit disappointed that no one else seems to really care. Maybe lost for words when someone asks you how the other day went. I’m imagining those disciples experiencing all of that and more.
What about spiritually? I’m sure the way they viewed their master changed forever after that day.
Would you say that you’ve ever had a “mountaintop experience” in a spiritual sense? You were alerted to something in the Bible that you’d never seen before. You heard a well-known passage in a whole new way. You felt closer to God than ever before in a worship service or a time of prayer.
Not everyone gets to see the world from the top of the mountain – just think about the remaining nine disciples. Peter, James, and John got to see and experience something other-worldly and glorious which is an enormous privilege, but the other disciples were still loved by Jesus and very close to him.
It’s all well and good to have a great time on top of the mountain, but at some point you have to return to earth. The gospel reading today does that very quickly. Immediately following this surreal experience is a very earthy and human one.
An exorcism is no small act, but it’s not very glamorous or glorious compared to being in the company of Moses and Elijah, shining like the sun and hearing God’s voice direct from heaven.
Going from mountaintop to rock bottom doesn’t go so well for many of us. Just look at the stories of football stars, iconic film actors and directors, and successful businesspeople that end up on TV leaving a courthouse with a jacket over their head.
We don’t always cope well with the mountaintop because of what will happen when we come back down. I’m sure the thought of arrogance or pride might have snuck into the minds of Peter, James and John. “We’re the privileged ones. We got to see the real thing. We got exclusive access.” We don’t know what they did, but we do know that they were human.
Sunday worship is a kind of “mountaintop experience” in itself. Here we hear God speak, we speak to him, we receive Christ’s own body and blood for forgiveness and life, we’re encouraged in our faith... What happens when you leave church? What happens when you go back down the mountain and into the everyday again?
That’s what the veil was for. A big theme in all our readings today is this image of the veil. It was a literal one for Moses because his face shone that brightly after talking with God. The cloud coming over the mountain functions like a veil.
In the epistle, which was, funnily enough, our wedding text. Paul talks about a figurative one that separates us from God, and that which Jesus has taken away by his becoming human. It’s not a common wedding text, but it certainly drew attention to what the veil meant on that day, and more importantly, the veil that Jesus has removed for us.
It reminds me of the temple curtain in Jerusalem being torn in two when he died. The barrier has been taken out. The veil has been lifted. We have full access where we didn’t before.
The thing is, before the veil was removed, worship used to be a mountaintop experience. It was limited to certain people at certain times. It was protected because God’s glory was too much for us to cope with.
But now, because of Christ, worship came back to the ground. It is no longer restricted or limited. Anyone is welcome. We don’t climb the mountain to get to God – he comes down the mountain to meet us. The Transfiguration was just a glimpse of what was to come – regular encounters with God, face-to-face. By the Holy Spirit, God is present even where only two or three people are gathered. Sure, we might not be blinded by his radiance or hear God’s voice through a cloud very often, but he certainly speaks. The Word of God was proclaimed, it has been written down and it continues to be heard everywhere. All we need to do is listen to him.
Life is full of mountaintops and rock bottoms, but God is present through it all. Each of the moments in our lives – up or down – have their purpose and their place. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster at times, just like how Jesus went from his Transfiguration on the mountain to earthly, human problems on the ground. And yet, after both these events, the result is the same: “And they were all amazed at the greatness of God.” (Luke 9:43)
