He Came Down

by Joan Fanshawe

(Based on Mark 9:2-9; Gen 17:1-7, 15-16)

In the 21^st Century, when we like to think there’s a scientific explanation for everything, it’s hard to even imagine the fantastical experience recounted in today’s Gospel reading, let alone incorporate it into our faith experience. For the followers of Jesus, familiar as they would have been with their Jewish history, this also was not at all a commonplace experience, but extremely significant, relating to mountain top experiences recorded in their Scriptures about both Elijah and Moses.
Like Peter, I would have been terrified and wouldn’t have known what to say. In his amazement at the scene before him Peter babbles about building a shelter for each one. Most commentators come down hard on that, which seems a bit harsh, but in Mark’s gospel there are several instances where the disciples are mentioned as ‘not getting it’. Rather like us too, and we have the benefit of hindsight.   For myself, 2000 years later, I hardly know what to say now about this extraordinary mountain top scenario, where in the midst of a swirling cloud the words ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ are spoken. The same words heard at the time Jesus was baptised by John are heard again.

When we met for our Lent reflection last Wednesday, we read this Gospel passage, sat with it, heard it again, then, using a process called Lectio Divina ….. each one of us in turn spoke a word or a phrase that had stood out for us in the reading.
The words that came up included “He did not know what to say”, “This is my son, the Beloved”, “only Jesus”, “up a high mountain”, and “listen to him”. After we had heard the verses read again, we gave thanks for God’s presence with us made known through Jesus who ‘came back down’.

This story, like so many stories in the gospels, is easier to describe than to explain and I’m not going to analyse it – but after reading several commentaries I’m happy to share these thoughts which are prompted by the final verse:
“As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.”

I found David Lose, a senior Lutheran pastor in America, was also wrestling with this Transfiguration passage along with how to explain the Creed to his young confirmation class. What David thinks is so significant about this little verse, and so easy to overlook, is simply that it reports that after all of what occurred on the mountaintop … Jesus came back down. Down to where the rest of the disciples are, down to where we are, down to the challenges of life ‘here below’, down to the problems and discomforts and discouragements that are part and parcel of our life in this world.

Down … to his crucifixion.

Jesus orders them not to tell anyone “until after the Son of Man has risen from the dead”. Resurrection, of course, is a hopeful note. However, it does not just imply, but pretty much necessitates, death!

Jesus came down. Only Jesus. The beloved son – listen to him.

David Lose continues: “This is also the heart of the Christian faith. God in Christ came down to be with us and for us, to take on our human life, that we might not simply exist, but flourish, not simply have life, but have it abundantly.
“That we might understand that the God who created and still sustains the vast cosmos, not only knows that we exist, but cares. Cares about our ups and downs, cares about our hopes and disappointments, cares about our dreams and despair, cares about all the things we care about, promising to be with us, to walk alongside us, to never, ever let us go, and in time to redeem us and bring us into the company of saints.”

“This is my Son the Beloved – listen to him” – this message is for us today as well.

Jesus came back down that mountain to continue telling and demonstrating his message of God’s care for all people, and like Abraham, another extraordinary story … we can have faith that even in the long view, in all the ups and downs of life, God is with us.

Let us pray:
Jesus said, ‘You ought always to pray and not to faint.’
So we do not pray for easy lives;
we pray to be stronger women and men.
And we do not pray for tasks equal to our powers,
but for power equal to our tasks.
Then, the doing of our work will be no miracle –
we will be the miracle.
Then every day, whatever that day brings,
may we wonder at ourselves, and the richness of life
which has come to us by the grace of God.

Amen.

(Prayer written by Julia Esquivel)