Preached at St Nicholas’, Leicester on Sunday 19th of February 2023

READINGS

Exodus 24.12-end & Matthew 17.1-9

SERMON

At face value, the Gospels are quite gritty affairs. Jesus in the dirt and the mud. Jesus in the dust. Jesus walking for miles. Jesus with no home to lay his head. Jesus in massed crowds, with the poor, the sick, the outcast.

God has come to Earth to dwell with us - and the Gospels understandably focus on that earthly ministry. And as far as the Gospels tell us, at this point in Jesus’ ministry, all of his miracles have been human in scale. They are individual person to individual person. There is no parting of the sea, no summoning of plagues. Jesus swoops in to save a party from a catering disaster. Jesus feeds a crowd. Heals a child. An adult. A loved one. 

Though, of course, humans alone are incapable of these miracles, they are not what we would expect from God walking among us.

If a man walked up to you now, and turned a glass of water into wine, you’d probably say, “nice trick” and go on with your day. You wouldn’t think “God has come to earth in human form, an utterly unprecedented miracle has occurred”. Because it’s not enough. It’s not enough. We naturally want to see more from God. We want to see some production value.

But at this point in his life, Jesus is still swearing his followers to silence There is no pomp. No ceremony. No flashy tricks. A few days before they climb this mountain together, Peter guesses that Jesus is the Messiah, and Jesus tells everyone he is with to keep quiet about it.

But this moment, in which Jesus and his close friends climb a mountain, shows the other side of the Gospels.

In this moment Jesus is Transfigured.

The dust and dirt of the road, and the mountain hike, are stripped away, and he is clothed in dazzling white. He shines like the sun.

Jesus is fully human. And fully God. And here, in this moment, that is revealed to his disciples in an undeniable way.  And upon seeing this, Peter says to him: “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

And something strange happens.

Jesus doesn’t reply.

In every other interaction, in all of the Gospels, Jesus responds when he is spoken to. Jesus replies. To teach, to rebuke, to care. Jesus always replies. But not here. Jesus simply stands there, speaking with the dead prophets, and shining like the sun.

And his followers look on, amazed.

And I think this is something we fail to do, all too often.

To look on, Amazed.

Now, I am convinced that the Christian faith is a faith of action. A faith of doing. Of being. A faith you live out. We pray for God’s will to be done, on Earth as in Heaven, and I remain convinced that we must work towards that, every day, in our deeds. That we must call the Kingdom closer, yes, but also draw the Kingdom closer. That we, like Christ and his Disciples in the Gospels, must spend our time in the dirt and in the mud. That we must walk among the oppressed, and challenge the human structures that oppress.

But, we must not forget that this is but one side of a coin. One part of a story. One element of a faith. And that we should, all of us, pause to look on, amazed.

In this moment, Peter, James, and John, are able to witness the incredible fact of Jesus’ truth, revealed in light. A miracle that cannot be explained away. And their only recorded response to it comes through Peter, who says:  “It is good for us to be here.”

He offers to build three tents, three dwellings, three residences for God - mirrors of the tent in which God resided among the people during the Exodus. Peter wants this to stay. So he can look upon this wondrous vision, forever.

I worry that we, perhaps, spend too much time doing.

That we do the work, we climb the mountain, but we do not gaze upon the light.

It is important to simply allow ourselves to be in the presence of God. To let that wonder wash over us. To be content without a reply, without words. To acknowledge the presence, and all that means, without feeling a need to do anything.

We may not be standing upon a mountain, we may not be staring at Jesus, conversing with Moses and Elijah, radiant with incredible light - but we are in the presence of God - and it is good for us to be here.

We live in a busy world, our modern society so far removed from the one in which Jesus walked as to be unrecognisable. And we fight for many things. We struggle through many difficulties. These last years have been hard ones, for ALL of us. We have, metaphorically, climbed many mountains, just to be here today. And I don’t know about you - but I am tired.

I’m so tired.

But God is here. Perhaps not glowing with light, but present. And I find it important to remind myself, to remind you all, that doing the work isn’t the only important thing. That being with God, that is the important thing.

Peter offers to make a home for God - to build dwelling places, there, on that mountain. And Jesus, for the first, and only, time, doesn’t reply. And I think, perhaps, that is because Peter has already made a home for God, in his heart. And that is something we can all do.

I want to encourage you all to find time to be with God. To find quiet space, to pause, and recognise God’s presence. To build a home inside your heart. To not be afraid.

Jesus, James, Peter, and John, will soon descend that mountain. The dazzling light will fade. Jesus’ robes will become dirtied from the road. They will soon experience the horrors of the crucifixion. Peter will, for a moment, deny everything he has seen.

But that does not mean it did not happen. That does not negate the impact it has had.

As we, too, find ourselves, not in the mountains, but in the valleys, we must hold on to the wonder of God.

We must remind ourselves of that dazzling light, that wondrous mountain height - whatever form it has taken in our own lives and we must take a moment, just a moment, to cherish the blessing that is God’s presence in our lives - without expectation of action, or reply - knowing that silence and wonders are not opposites, but often two parts of the same gift.

We must sit with God, we must look for, and look upon, God’s radiance, and listen, to both God’s speech, and God’s silence, and we must remind ourselves: “It is GOOD for us to be here.”

Amen