Sermon on Mark 9:2-9

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

The Transfiguration is, in my opinion, one of the weirdest stories in the Gospels—maybe in the whole Bible. We’ve got Jesus lit up like a glow stick, long-dead ancestors in faith, a supernatural cloud and a voice from heaven. And then all of it goes away as quickly as it happened. It’s no wonder Peter, James, and John were a little overwhelmed.

But let’s start at the beginning. Our reading opens with the words, “six days later.” Whenever we see a context clue like that, it’s worth reading back a little to see what it’s talking about.

In this case, Jesus had been walking around with his disciples, and he asked them about what people were saying about him and then what the disciples said about him. Peter had his glorious moment and said, “You are the Messiah.” If Peter felt half as good as I feel when I give the right answer when called on in class, he must have been feeling amazing.

That is, until Jesus started telling his disciples that he would suffer and die and rise again. Peter, perhaps emboldened by his correct insight, wasn’t having it. And Jesus said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Ouch.

Jesus then went on to address his followers with a teaching about denying oneself and taking up one’s cross to follow him.

Our reading today begins six days after these conversations.

Poor Peter never did anything in moderation. He went from correctly and reverently naming Jesus’ identity to getting scolded for trying to derail his mission.

Maybe getting invited, along with James and John, to go on a hike up a mountain with Jesus took a little of the sting away. Or maybe it felt like getting marched to the principal’s office.

When they made it to the top, we could perhaps say “all heaven broke loose.” Jesus started glowing and had a conversation with Moses and Elijah. I wonder if Peter, James, and John thought the air was a little thin up there and they were hallucinating.

They, understandably, started freaking out. It says, “[Peter] did not know what to say, for they were terrified.” But, instead of saying nothing, Peter blurted out, “’Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us set up three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’”

And yet again, poor Peter got scolded—this time by a suddenly-appearing cloud and a heavenly voice. “’This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’” This echoes what the heavenly voice said at Jesus’ baptism, but instead of talking to Jesus, saying “you are,” this time the voice spoke to the disciples, saying “this is my Son, the Beloved.”

And then, everything suddenly went back to normal. They went back down the mountain, and Jesus swore them to secrecy until after he had died and risen again.

Like I said: weird story.

But what stuck out to me this time, in light of our Sabbath theme, was Peter’s anxiety.

Poor Peter just couldn’t contain his anxiety about what was going on in front of him. He couldn’t just stand there and watch—he needed to do something.

So, he makes up a job for himself. “Let me set up some tents for you!”

But in doing so, he’s deciding how Jesus should be honored, when instead God’s voice says, “listen to him.”

Instead of taking in this amazing conversation and being awed by everything he’s witnessing, Peter makes the experience about “doing” instead of “being.”

Peter would miss out on a once-in-history event if he went foraging for materials to make tents.

What God asks instead is that Peter and James and John listen to Jesus instead of guessing what he would like from them.

How often do we guess what God wants from us instead of slowing down and listening to God?

We read last week about Jesus taking some time by himself to pray and coming away with a fresh understanding of the next steps toward his mission. Maybe Peter and James and John needed to follow Jesus’ example.

And maybe we do, too.

Most of us won’t experience a “mountaintop” encounter with God as dramatic as the one in our story.

But as we end this season after Epiphany, when God made Godself known in Jesus, what if we expect to experience God in our daily lives? How would we move through our day differently? Would we slow down and pay more attention? Would we look with extra kindness at the people we encounter if we expect to see Jesus reflected in their eyes? Would we treat the sunset like the gift from God it is?

I heard about an artist who set up an event space outdoors with a red carpet and chairs. People lined up and took their seats… and then watched the sun set.

If we had to buy a ticket and get dressed up, we might pay more attention to the sunset. If it only happened once a year, we would clear our calendars. If it only happened once a generation, we would take vacation time and travel to a mountain peak to watch that breathtaking moment. But we forget the beauty that is around us every day. It becomes commonplace.

Sometimes, just changing the way we perceive something—like having a red carpet for a sunset—can help us appreciate it and the One who created it.

And sometimes, like Peter, our urge to do something instead of just soaking it in can cause us to miss out on the wonders of the universe we live in.

One of my favorite movies is Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium about a magical toy shop and its quirky owner. At one point, he and his assistant are waiting 37 seconds before something is going to happen.

The assistant says, “Now we wait.”

And Mr. Magorium responds, “No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.”

We can’t actually appreciate every single second of our lives. We would probably crumple under the pressure of paying that close attention.

But,what if we tried to be 1% more attentive today to the world around us? What if we opened ourselves to awe just the tiniest bit?

It could change our lives. It could change the world.

And it doesn’t require doing anything. In fact, quite the opposite: it requires not doing.

As we transition from learning about Sabbath this season to practicing Sabbath rest during Lent, don’t let doing get in the way of being. Listen to Jesus, the Beloved. Let yourself be moved by awe.

Pause, notice, wonder, and be in awe of our beautiful Savior.