Most folks enjoy a good mystery. The fictional ones make up many movies, TV series, and books, but the real life ones are even more intriguing. Almost everyone knows that feeling of curiosity and that desire to know that come as a response to unsolved mysteries. How were the pyramids built? What is the Bermuda Triangle? Who was Jack the Ripper? What happened to Amelia Earhart? Was there a conspiracy cover-up in the death of JFK? There have been scientific studies performed, documentaries filmed, and countless books written about the unexplained and the unsolved. The pleasure and intrigue of a real mystery will never lose its appeal.
There are also still things that can take our breath away, even in an age that has, for many reasons, lost some of its sense of wonder. As the use of special effects reaches new heights on the silver screen, and we can change a photo to include or exclude anything we want just by using a computer program, it’s a little harder to impress us – but there’s still the first visit to the Grand Canyon, the sight of the Aurora Borealis, an amazing electrical storm, or the devastation of a hurricane or earthquake, the joy at the birth of a baby, all of which remind us of what it means to be awestruck, stunned, speechless.
Today’s lessons present us with both mystery and majesty. Yet, if we are not really listening, paying attention, we modern listeners can let these lessons flow over us, missing the impact they are meant to convey. The readings from Second Kings and the Gospel of Mark are dazzling, two of the most beautiful stories in scripture: Elijah’s ascent to heaven and Jesus’ transfiguration. These are mystical stories where heaven and earth meet in an extraordinary human being. These are stories of miracles and the eternal; and at the same time, these stories are profoundly human, speaking of love, loss, grief, and transformation. They are meant to take our breath away.
When the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven by a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal.
What do we know about Elijah? Earlier in the second scroll of the Kings, Elijah has been involved in a feast. Today he performs a miracle, parting the waters of the Jordan. A feast, followed by a miracle of water, is a formula that becomes a standard in the ancient religious traditions of the Hebrews. It is a formula that is reminiscent of Moses parting of the Red Sea, and because Elijah repeats it, we understand he is the first of the prophets like Moses, whom God promised to send to the Children of Israel. Unlike other prophets, who only speak the word of the Lord, Elijah, and after him Elisha, also perform miracles, something we will later see in Our Lord.
The first three quarters of today’s reading focus on Elisha’s devotion to his mentor Elijah. As we approach the climax of the story, Elijah’s final moments and his ascension into heaven, Elijah performs the miracle of parting the River Jordan. Interestingly, Elisha seems to not notice at all. He crosses over the water with his mentor, and is immediately questioned by the older man.
“When they had crossed, Elijah said to Elisha, ‘Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.’ Elisha said, ‘Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit’”
Now we become aware of a reason why Elisha has not made exclamations of awe and wonder over the parting of the Jordan. He does not yet possess the spirit, the faith, necessary to take in all that is occurring around him. Many unexpected and alarming things are about to happen in quick succession, but from Elisha we will hear only confusion and fear, as he and his teacher are parted.
“As they continued walking and talking, a chariot of fire and horses of fire separated the two of them, and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha kept watching and crying out, ‘Father, father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!’ But when he could no longer see him, he grasped his own clothes and tore them in two pieces.”
In this marvelous scene, God actually comes down. For the ancient listener, the whirlwind is a long recognized and accepted analogy for God. When Moses encounters God on Mt. Sinai, the Almighty passes by in a whirlwind. Here, in the Divine Presence which lifts Elijah from his view, all Elisha does is shout about “The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!” Elisha’s focus is off. He’s completely missed the most important thing in what is happening, the Presence of God.
This is a warning for us, who face each day with eyes sometimes dulled by worldly responsibilities and cares, eyes so accustomed to the everyday, we are no longer even looking for Him whom we serve. It is a reminder that everyday life is filled with the awe, the majesty, and the mystery of God, and we need to be paying attention that we may perceive Him and His will for us. We tend to see only the superficial, but we are called to the mystery of our faith. We need nurture and respond to that call.
“Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves.”
Today’s Gospel begins up a high mountain. The ancient listener understood that going up a mountain meant getting closer to God. It is a place apart, where Jesus and His disciples can be by themselves - a lonely place. What happens next will happen to each of them individually. “And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus.
The Transfiguration describes what is called a theophany, an experience of God’s ever-near eternal presence. Mark tells the story with a clear simplicity. Jesus goes to a mountain to pray, accompanied by his dearest friends, the disciples Peter, James, and John. And there they see him transfigured, dazzling white, shining with the glory of God, and talking with the great prophets Moses and Elijah. Moses is the archetypal prophet, the first of his kind, while Elijah is the archetypal miracle worker. Jesus stands with these two holy people, and He, Jesus, embodies both attributes and more.
The scene as it is described is reminiscent of Moses’ transfiguration in Exodus, when he came down from Mt. Sinai with the tablets of the covenant, his face shining so brightly from his encounter with God that his people were afraid and he had to cover it with a veil. In each story, the mountain is a thin place, a bridge between heaven and earth.
The Transfiguration describes a mystical moment on the mountain, a visible manifestation of the union of human and divine in Jesus. Like Moses’ people, Jesus’ friends are terrified by what they have seen. Terrified—and in awe of that glimpse of God’s eternal glory, and Jesus’ unity with that Glory, and indeed the unity of all humankind forever and ever, world without end, in God and Jesus.
In the climax of the scene, Jesus is called by God, who confirms his identity as the Son of God. “This is my Son the Beloved; listen to him!” This experience is a turning point for Jesus as well as His disciples. Jesus, reminded of His unity with God, turns toward the inevitable end of His human story.
The Transfiguration is a bridge between Jesus’ public ministry as a traveling teacher and healer in Galilee, and the road to His passion, i.e. His suffering, death, and resurrection in Jerusalem. Transfiguration Sunday is a bridge from Epiphany, when we celebrate the miracles and works of Jesus’ life, to Lent, when we focus on Jesus’ journey to the cross.
Today the Church’s Season of Light, of Epiphany, draws to a close – and Wednesday we step into the solemn shadows of Lent. During Lent we traditionally make sacrifices, and do more for God than we might usually do. Lent is the season in which we ponder what it would mean to live without the Light of Jesus, without the Love of Jesus. It is a time to feel sorrow for our blindness, our numbness, our insensitivity to His constant Presence in our lives. It is a time to be very, very grateful that we need never experience the dreadful darkness of His absence.
We can choose to see Lent as a time of abstinence, sorrow, and depravation, or as a powerful, mysterious season in which we are called to open our hearts to the suffering around us and the mystery of Christ in that suffering, to seek in the silence of Lent the center where our hearts rest in the mystery that is God. Lent is not about giving up chocolate, it is about a bridge, about going from the breathtaking experience on the mountain in which God shows Himself to us is all His glory, to finding that same powerful light within ourselves, and to being repentant, sorry that we do not always seek that Light and let it shine through us.
In the shadows of Lent, let us open our hearts, let Jesus flood us with His grace, and enable us to shine like a beacon with His Love. This is our calling. This is what Jesus has commanded us to do. In Lent, let us remember the voice from the cloud and obey. ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’”
Let us pray:
O God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and rest we shall be saved, in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength: By the might of your Spirit lift us, we pray you, to your presence, where we may be still and know that you are God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.