Christ the King-Epiphany, Wilbraham

The Rev. Martha S. Sipe

March 2, 2025 / Transfiguration of Our Lord

Luke 9:28-36

Up until this point in his ministry, Jesus has been travelling throughout the region of Galilee where he was raised, and things have been going pretty well.  It is true that the people in his hometown of Nazareth were offended by the way he taught in the synagogue, so offended that they tried to throw him off a cliff.  But Jesus avoided harm.  It is also true that the religious experts were beginning to question his words and actions.  But so far, they’ve mostly been leaving him alone.  In all the small towns of Galilee, Jesus has been teaching in the synagogues and preaching from boats and healing the sick and telling stories about farmers and seeds and gathering followers and feeding hungry crowds . . . overall, we get the feeling of forward momentum, that the Kingdom of God is truly coming near in Jesus.

But things are beginning to change.  And if you didn’t know the story, you might hear this story of Jesus transfigured and think that things are changing for the better.  I mean, it’s pretty impressive, this event that happens while he is praying – his face changes, his clothes get all glow-y, he sees and converses with Moses and Elijah, and the voice of God speaks from a cloud.  I don’t know about you, but this is not what happens to me when I pray!  This is surely another sign that things are progressing nicely for Jesus.

Well, yes and no.  Yes, what we see in the Transfiguration is surely God at work, in all God’s majesty and mystery; and yes, it’s a clear sign that Jesus is God’s Son, the Chosen One.  But as for things progressing nicely . . . well, they’re progressing according to plan, but nicely may not be the most apt word because he’s beginning to move toward the cross.  The Transfiguration is a bright spot in the narrative, literally and figuratively.  But it comes just eight days after Jesus says for the first, and not for the last time, that he is going to suffer, and be rejected, and killed.  And before you imagine that Jesus and Moses and Elijah are chatting about how great it is to be in the presence of God, before you picture their conversation as a smiling, high-fiving sort of koffee klatch, note that the subject of their conversation is Jesus’ departure, i.e. his upcoming leave-taking of this world.  

Some newer translations of the Bible render this word departure as exodus, which is actually closer to the original Greek.  And it’s the only time this word gets used in the Gospels.  Exodus means “going out,” like the English word exit.  Exodus:  like the Old Testament book that tells the story of the Israelites’ escape from slavery in Egypt and their deliverance to the Promised Land.  And since Moses was the one who led the people out of Egypt, there’s perhaps no better person to talk to Jesus about his exodus than Moses.  I wonder if Luke isn’t trying to signal to us that Jesus, like Moses before him, is the way out of all that holds us captive.  He is the way out of our fears and anxieties.  He is the way out of our miscalculations, mistakes, and missteps.  He is the way out of grief and pain and illness, and even death.  We already know that Jesus is the Way; he’s also the way out.

But that way out is not necessarily an easy way.  Jesus’ brief encounter of the holiness of his Heavenly Father does not mean, going forward, it will be all sunshine and roses. “Like Moses before him, Jesus is given an experience of God and God’s majesty.  Like Moses, in spite of being chosen, he is not granted an easy passage.  The word exodus is a reminder of plagues, blood, the death of first-born sons, and the . . . oppressive power of the Egyptians.”  When Jesus comes down from the mountain, he sets his course for Jerusalem, where he will suffer and struggle, and where he, the first- and only-born son, will die.  

The Transfiguration reminds us, as Robert Frost is credited with saying, that “The only way out is through.”  The only way out of our struggles is through them – with Jesus, who understands and accompanies us along the way.  The only way out of our sin is through confession, and Jesus’ promise of forgiveness.  The only way out of death is through it, into the eternal life that Jesus has made possible for us.  

Peter, James, and John, who were with Jesus on that mountain – they got the benefit of the Transfiguration experience before they walked with him into suffering.  It must have been a great comfort, a great strength, a great source of hope to have that vision to hang onto when things got rough.  And by hearing this story, we, too, get the benefit of knowing that there is a way through and out.  But it’s hard, I think, to hold onto a vision that we only get second-hand through the words of the Gospel.  And let’s face it:  we’re surrounded by pain and suffering – in our lives, in our families, in our communities, in our country, and in our world – there’s a lot for us to get through without the benefit of experiencing God on that mountain.  And that’s why, when I hear this story, I also think about the other nine disciples:  the ones who weren’t on that mountain, and the ones who did not know what had gone on up there because Peter, James, and John said nothing to anyone.  How did the nine make it through without the benefit of a mountaintop experience?  By following Jesus.  And by leaning on each other.

And that, my friends, is exactly how we will get through all the adversity that we face.  By following Jesus, as best we can.  And when we falter, when we fall, when we cannot summon the vision and the courage and the hope to believe that there is an exodus for us, we will lean on each other.  The only way out is through.  Our only way out is Jesus, and he is also our way through.  But we don’t travel the road alone.  We travel the exodus road together.