Change: a sermon for Transfiguration Sunday

Mark 9:2-9

2 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, ³and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. ⁴And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. ⁵Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ ⁶He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. ⁷Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ ⁸Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

9 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.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
   be acceptable to you,
   O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Change is inevitable. Growth is optional.

Let me share with you a lesser-known story:

 [Elijah] set out from [Horeb

], and found Elisha son of Shaphat, who was ploughing. There were twelve yoke of oxen ahead of him, and he was with the twelfth. Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. He left the oxen, ran after Elijah, and said, ‘Let me kiss my father and my mother, and then I will follow you.’ Then Elijah said to him, ‘Go back again; for what have I done to you?’ [I.e., I am not stopping you.]

 He returned from following him, took the yoke of oxen, and slaughtered them; using the equipment from the oxen, he boiled their flesh, and gave it to the people, and they ate. Then he set out and followed Elijah, and became his servant.

Elisha’s is a story like a lot of those whom God has called. It is very similar to the calling of the disciples, many of whom dropped everything they were doing, left family and friends, to go and follow the prophet from Nazareth.

It is the only story of Elisha that precedes today’s reading, although Elisha’s reaction to the whole whirlwind incident leads us to believe that some considerable time has passed and the relationship between Elijah and Elisha has blossomed dramatically.

Both are very human stories about people who have assumed and will assume extraordinary power from God. Both remind us that even the people who seem the most lofty and closest to God still maintain very human, very mundane emotions.

Both are stories about a time of crisis, of dramatic change in the lives of Elijah and Elisha, times when our emotions often overwhelm us, because people are not creatures who handle change well.

Elijah passed by him and threw his mantle over him. He left the oxen, ran after Elijah…

He’s excited. Really excited. But he wants to have some closure with his family.

But there is no uncertainty about his commitment. When he goes back to say his farewells, he slaughters the pack animals and uses their gear to cook them. Today we call that “burning the bridge”.

Dramatic kid. That’s fitting for a prophet, I suppose.

A little moody, too.

When the helpful company of prophets from Bethel and Jericho inform Elisha that his master is about to be taken, he’s terse with them.

‘Do you know that today the Lord will take your master away from you?’ 

‘Yes, I know; keep silent.’

That is,

‘I don’t need you to remind me. Shut your trap.’

Moody kid. I think he’s fifteen.

Elisha knows what’s coming, and he’s determined finally to make the best of it. His enthusiasm to follow Elijah at first makes me wonder if he wasn’t following out of hero worship, but today’s reading shows us an Elisha who is moving past that. He is able to say to Elijah:

‘Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.’

That is, the share of the first-born son. In physical inheritance, that would have been two-thirds of the estate. The underlying request is:

‘Please make me your heir.’

He chooses to take a really hard situation and make the best of it. Ultimately, he chooses to re-claim the calling he had claimed earlier.

The change was inevitable. God was going to take Elijah regardless. But Elisha chose to grow.

We often find ourselves looking to previous generations - our parents, grandparents, founding fathers - as great models to whose glory we can aspire. There is a fine line between learning from those gone before and revering those who have gone before. It’s not always easy to tell when our ancestors become idols.

One way to avoid worshiping our elders is to remember Elisha’s story. We don’t go into the bit that follows in today’s reading, but I encourage you to read about Elisha’s life when you leave.

I will point out only the first miracle that follows:

Elisha takes that mantle that Elijah had once thrown over him and perform the exact same miracle that Elijah just had. He tests the instruction that Elijah had given him, to watch as Elijah is taken, by striking the water of the Jordan and causing it to part to let him pass through.

Does that sound familiar? Like Moses?

 Like Joshua?

We have, at this point in our history, co-opted the language of “crossing the Jordan” to mean entering into heaven, finding ourselves in the promised land.

But that’s not how any of these stories go.

When Moses led the people through the sea ahead of Pharaoh’s army, they spent the following decades as nomads in the desert. They didn’t have it easy. In some ways, they had it rougher than they had in Egypt.

When Joshua led the people across the Jordan, they spent years driving the people out of Canaan. And they spent centuries trying to keep their claim on that land.

When Elisha crossed the Jordan, he didn’t come into some peace and quiet. He claimed Elijah’s power and took on some really scary prophetic work.

What makes us think that crossing Jordan is some journey into easy life?

Crossing Jordan hasn’t anything to do with the transition from this short life into eternity with God. Crossing Jordan is making the commitment to hear God’s call and follow.

Let me offer you this observation. When most people make their vow to join a local congregation, they view that as a goal. Membership is the finish line. It’s apparently such an exhausting thing to go through that they disappear for a number of weeks.

True story. Very common.

That’s not what being a part of the church is about. That’s what it looks like to join a club.

When I was in college, I let my friends talk me into joining a music fraternity. We rushed and we were hazed and we paid our dues and finally we went through the ritual and, boom, we were members. Then what? We just were. Keep paying dues, come to the meetings, and you’re good to go.

Do you know what kind of difference that has made in my life?

Zilch.

If we approach membership in the local congregation in that way, then church will also make zero difference in our lives. Christ will be meaningless to us.

You can’t cross Jordan and expect to join the country club.

In fact, let’s do away with language of membership. Do you know what you become when you covenant your prayers, your presence, your gifts, your service, and your witness to the local church?

You don’t become a member. You become a missionary.

That’s what Peter and James and John were slowly realizing. They weren’t just following Jesus because he’d called them to join a club. They were following Jesus because Jesus was going to make them missionaries.

The dazzling white clothes and the wonder of Moses and Elijah chatting it up with Jesus aren’t the point of the Transfiguration. The point of the Transfiguration of Christ is the Transfiguration itself. The Greek is exactly the word we use to describe what happens to a caterpillar when it hatches from a cocoon. It metamorphoses into a butterfly. There is a fundamental change.

Committing to the call of Christ should make in us a fundamental change. What Peter and James and John saw was a foretaste of what would happen to them. And sometimes the change was really hard, and sometimes they fought it. But the change was inevitable.

There is no use in trying to hold things together when God proclaims that something is going to change. There is no use in trying to go back to a point in history from which the Holy Spirit has already moved on.

When Elisha takes on Elijah’s mantle, he doesn’t do the same thing Elijah had done. He’s someone entirely different.

When the disciples take on the cross of Christ, Jesus promises they will do greater things than he ever did.

When we take on the calling of our forebears, and when we choose to listen to the whisper of God’s Spirit today, instead of assuming we know what to expect of God, we’ll find ourselves crossing Jordan into a world of promise. It’s a world of hard work, no doubt, but the reward of God’s Kingdom come on earth is the promise of the ages.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.