Page 8 of 8
Mark 9.2-8
Mark 9.2-8
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Transfiguration Sunday
Shelton, WA
Veil Torn
You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like? What would it be like if God were to peal back the veil of time… if God were to—for just a moment—lift one corner of that curtain separating time and eternity, and if out from underneath that one little corner, God’s glory came rushing in? What would that be like? You know, I have this funny feeling that it would blow us away! But still… still, I wonder.
Moses climbed a mountain. Up in a cloud consumed by smoke and fire, he stayed in the Lord’s presence for forty days. The Bible says that when he came down from that mountain his face was glowing with the glory of God. The brilliance of that glory was so intense, so overwhelming that it was too much for the people to bear. Moses had to veil his face until the brilliance faded.
Elijah also went up on to a mountain. And there in a cave, hiding from the world, God came to Elijah and spoke to him. This time, though, God’s presence was not in the lightning, the fire, the wind or the thunder; it was in the still small voice that spoke to Elijah in the stillness of the moment. Yet, it was no less overwhelming—no less awe-filled. And Elijah, like Moses walked away from that encounter a changed person.
Peter, James, and John had a similar experience. One that overwhelmed them, one that proved to be a turning point, one that brought them face-to-face with the Glory of God.
Mark 9.2-8
The ministry of Jesus was about to turn a corner. From here Jesus would march into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, he would endure Passion Week, the arrest at Gethsemane, the trials before Pilate and the Sanhedrin, and ultimately the cross. From here, on top of the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus would walk down into the valley of the shadow of death.
It was a turning point. But it’s also much more than just a turning point. Something happened there on top of that mountain that affected more than just an isolated moment in history. Something happened that has sent a ripple across the very fabric of time.
You see there on that mountain a veil was lifted. And even though the full effect wouldn’t be realized until Pentecost, and ultimately not until the end of time, nonetheless a ripple was set in motion… a ripple that would not stop until it spanned the whole breadth of human existence.
Oh, I suppose the whole thing really started six days before they actually made their way up on to that mountain. When Jesus told the disciples, “I tell you the truth, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God come with power,” that’s really when things were set in motion. That’s when the splash happened that started the ripple.
The Transfiguration turned out to be the fulfillment of those words. When Peter, James, and John followed Jesus up that mountain, what they saw was more than just a brilliant light show. What they saw was more than a glowing Jesus talking with Elijah and Moses. What they saw was a glimpse of the kingdom of God in all of its power. A veil was lifted.
When Jesus was crucified, the veil in the Temple was torn from top to bottom. But it is almost as if that tear began here on the Mount of Transfiguration. It’s almost as if when the light of God’s glory radiated from the transformed figure of Jesus, the power of God’s kingdom broke through—and with it a way was opened, a veil was lifted.
When you really stop to think about it… when you really consider what’s going on here, that’s what the transfiguration is all about—a whole new way of coming to God. Things were changing. The old ways were being transformed by a new and living way—Jesus.
When Jesus was up on that mountain, transformed into dazzling white, the veil of his flesh was momentarily pealed away and his divinity broke through. And even though Jesus walked down from that mountain, and even though his glory would once more be veiled behind his humanity, it’s almost as if in that very moment something very dramatic happened… something very significant changed. A way was opened… a way into the presence of God like never before… and even more significant, a way for the power of God to flow into our world.
In that moment a ripple began to move. It moved from the top of that mountain all the way to a cross set on a hill. It exploded from the tomb on Easter morning, and fell in tongues of fire on the day of Pentecost. It’s a ripple that has spanned the centuries. It’s a ripple that has become a wave… a wave that washes over us with the promise of change… with the promise of making all things new.
You see there on that mountain a veil was lifted, and the power of God’s kingdom was released into our world. It’s a power filled with hope… a power that promised something new, something different… a power that could actually touch a person’s life and change it. The power of God’s Kingdom was now at work in the world in a fresh, new, and dazzling way. Finally, the power of God’s kingdom broke through the veil of the heavens once and for all.
You see, in the past the power of God’s kingdom always seemed to be at work in the background… behind a veil. When Moses came down from the mountain and his face was glowing with the glory of God, he had to veil his face because the time wasn’t right… the people weren’t ready… the glory was too much for them.
When God’s glory came to rest in the Most Holy Place of the tabernacle in the wilderness, it was shrouded behind a curtain. A veil separated the power of God’s glory from the people. When the Shekinah, the glory of God, came to fill the Temple in Solomon’s day, it again had to be hidden behind a curtain. And when the people’s sin was too great for God to bear, Ezekiel watched as God’s glory lifted from the temple and was once more veiled behind the heavens.
But here on the Mount of Transfiguration, all that changed… the veil was lifted. In the transformation of Jesus the visible rule of God’s kingdom in all its power was made manifest. The veil was lifted. The glory of God came rushing in… and with it the power of God.
Paul says, “I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes” (Romans 1.16). And again: “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1.18).
The power of God’s kingdom in this world is the power of change… it is the power of transformation.
§ It is a power that can take a person torn and tattered by sin and failure, and make them whole.
§ It’s a power that can take someone adrift in sea of hopelessness and give them an anchor and a hope.
§ It’s a power that can touch a person at the deepest and most desperate point of need and bring them into the very throne room of grace.
§ It is a power that can change a heart, turning it from one as hard as stone to one of flesh.
§ It’s the power to mold and shape.
§ It’s the power of change.
There on that Mount of Transfiguration a veil was torn… a way was opened. God’s glory came rushing in. The power of God was released into the world… a power that can transform our lives, our families, our churches, our communities… our world.
So, what would it be like if God were to peal back the veil of time and let his glory come rushing in on us? It would be like the day of Pentecost. It would be like a fresh wind blowing through our lives. It would be like tongues of fire falling from heaven igniting a holy blaze in the hearts and lives of God’s people. It would be like the power of a thousand earthquakes shaking us out of our complacency and filling us with an unquenchable passion for more of God.
You know what’s kind of surprising, though—and even somewhat pathetic when you think about it? God has already pealed back the veil. The kingdom is here. Pentecost has come. Yet, we have settled for far less.
We’ve settled for going to church rather than being the church. We’ve settled for a condemning the culture rather than transforming our communities. We’ve settled for defending doctrinal distinctives rather than developing deeper disciples. We’ve settled for growing the church rather than growing people.
C. S. Lewis was right: “We are… like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in the slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
It’s like Peter: “Lord, should we make three shelters?” …Far too easily pleased. Peter was willing to settle for far less than what this experience really offered. Peter was willing to settle for a shrine to what once was—a memorial to the moment—rather than embrace a future that was so brilliant with change that it filled them with fear. …Far too easily pleased.
But, you know, that’s when the cloud comes—the great Cloud of Unknowing. And a voice comes from that cloud—the voice of God. And that voice reminds us once more, it’s not about us—it’s not about making mud pies in the slum—it’s about Jesus. That’s all—just Jesus. And that’s enough. Everything else must be pressed down into the cloud of forgetting as we press more deeply into the cloud of unknowing.
You know, I don’t know how many times I’ve read this passage. I don’t know how many hundreds of times I’ve read those words: “Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.” And each time I think to myself, “That’s it. The moment is over. Moses and Elijah are gone.” Those words, “they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus,” are always interpreted in the negative—Moses and Elijah are gone, everything can now get back to normal… to the way things were.
But what if that’s not what they meant… or at least not their only meaning? What if it means that this experience with the glory and power of God was so profound, so intense, so transformational, that all they saw was Jesus… that everything else seemed to simply fade into the background… that they were so captured by the vision of Jesus and his glory that Moses and Elijah—symbols of the old ways, the law and the prophets—no longer occupied their thoughts and minds and attitudes? All they saw was Jesus, because—in the end—that’s all that really matters anyway.
What if the same could be said about us? …that when we look around, we no longer see anyone—or anything—except Jesus… What would happen then?
John Grant Page 8 2/26/2006