2 Kings 2:1-12
Psalm 50:1-6
2 Corinthians 4:3-6
Mark 9:2-9
Ash Wednesday comes quite early this year, so we’re here at the last Sunday of Epiphany before we’ve had as many chances as usual to hear about the “epiphanies” of Jesus’ healings and exorcisms. Today’s Gospel reading skips ahead to the second half of Mark.
As Pastor Linda told us last week, things move quickly in Mark’s Gospel. The Greek word “immediately” occurs 11 times in the first chapter and 42 times in the short 16-chapter Gospel. Linda also pointed out that Mark likes to repeat himself. He uses the same words and images to help readers – more likely, listeners – see how all of this is linked together.
That’s because Mark wants his listeners – including us – to be insiders. We get to see what’s going on behind the scenes and to grasp where this story is going.
Our insider’s knowledge is in marked contrast to the disciples. In Mark’s Gospel, the disciples are thick-headed at best and often willful deniers.
The veil is lifted: a crucified Jesus is the Beloved Son
In today’s reading, though, the veil – to take a phrase from our second lesson – is lifted. At least three of the disciples begin to see what’s at stake here. These three – especially Peter – have had starring roles earlier in the Gospel. Notably, Peter – in chapter 8 at the middle pivot of the Gospel – has confessed what we the inside listeners heard already in Chapter 1, Verse 1: Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of the Living God.
Just as notably, Peter is taken aback when Jesus responds by telling him, in effect, “Peter, you got it right, and that’s why I’m going to Jerusalem to be put to death.” For Peter and the other disciples, that sounded like the opposite of what a Messiah and God’s Son should be doing.
Mark’s first readers may have had similar feelings. They were living in the midst of violence and oppression of the Roman Empire. Christians were being persecuted. Paul and Peter, the best and bravest of the Apostles, had been put to death. It certainly didn’t seem as though Jesus had ushered in God’s kingdom.
That’s why today’s story of the transfiguration is such good news for the disciples, for Mark’s first listeners, and for us today. We get to see and hear that the good news that Jesus headed for Jerusalem to die is exactly what Moses and Elijah hoped for, that a crucified Messiah is the beloved Son of God.
Baptism: Our New Bodies
That message from the clouds that the three disciples heard may ring a bell for you. It’s the same message Jesus and we – but no one else – heard way back in chapter 1, when Jesus was baptized: “You are my Son, the beloved.”
Mark is reminding us that we are transfigured because – in our baptism – we are buried with Christ and raised with Christ. Our baptism is now the structure of our daily lives: letting go of our old selves to be raised for new life with Christ.
This word we call transfiguration is interesting. It includes the word morphe or body or form. Some translations use the “transformed” instead of “transfigured.” Last week, Pastor Linda cited the ancient hymn from Paul’s letter to Philippians in which Jesus empties himself – his morphe – and becomes obedient unto death and God exalts him. That’s how Jesus is transfigured: he gives us his body to death to be raised to new life.
You may remember that, in chapter 15, Jesus goes up another mountain, to Gethsemane outside Jerusalem. Once again, he takes Peter, James, and John. There, in agonizing prayer, we hear that it is God’s will that Jesus drink the cup of death.
And so Jesus dies naked and alone, forsaken by the God he calls out for.
White Robes for Everyone
But in this God-forsaken death, Jesus swallows death. And it is this body – empty now of death – that God raises. And so our empty lives can be filled with God’s endless love.
In today’s Gospel, the transfigured Christ is depicted as wearing a dazzling white robe.
This isn’t privileging white over black or dark. Jesus and his followers would have been dark-skinned, and most clothing would have been unbleached drab tan. A white that was dazzling would have been difficult to achieve, beyond even what the best possible bleach could have produced.
Mark’s first listeners would already know there is another person dressed in a white robe: the young man at the empty tomb in chapter 16. Perhaps this young man, when Jesus was arrested, who lost his robe running away as he, like the rest of the disciples, deserted Jesus.
Now, this failed and flawed follower of Jesus now stands dressed in white at the empty tomb. He tells the women, “Jesus has risen. He has gone before you to Galilee, back to your home turf and your daily lives.”
You and I, equally failed and flawed, frequently confused and resistant, are today also dressed in white robes. We, who have been transfigured in our baptism, are dazzling white.
To be sure, you may not see your own white robe. But that’s why you are here today, so you can see all the others dressed in white – and they can tell you that you look lovely dressed in white.
We can also remind each other that the supply of baptismal robes is endless. We can invite others to be part of this community of faith. We can welcome them into this Transfigured Body of Christ.
As we sign our hymns, listen to the Scriptures, and speak our prayers, we see and hear the Risen Christ who is present in each of us. Our little faith becomes big enough to roll away on the stone at all the gravesites in our life.
And, dressed in our Sunday best – our baptismal robes – we are able to move forward. We are able to go to our Galilees: our homes, our community, our jobs. We know it won’t be perfect and it may be too infrequent, but God’s love will shine through our words and actions. Trusting in the promise of new life, we can’t help but do something that makes a difference … that feeds the hungry … and heals the brokenhearted.
Some of us are discouraged because we no longer have the ability and energy to do what we once could do. Some of us are struggling with chronic illness or catastrophic health issues. A few of us have jobs and responsibilities that seem to have nailed our feet to the floor.
Beyond our own situations, we worry about St. Alban’s and its future. What’s next for us as a congregation? And, of course, our cities, states, and our nation seem to be falling apart before our eyes.
The good news is that, today, we have climbed that mountain with Peter, James, and John. We have been transformed. We have new bodies and new hearts. We can take the next step and all the steps that are ahead of us.
My goodness, you all look so wonderful in your dazzling white robes!
