“Our Eyes Have Seen the Glory – Now What?”
Matthew 17:1-8
A Communion Meditation
Several
minutes from now we will gather at our Lord’s Table to celebrate
Communion. Communion gives us a very
brief glimpse of what heaven will be like, a glimpse of that time beyond time
when God’s Kingdom will have come in its fullness and his people will gather
for a great banquet feast. And O what a
time that will be!
A
brief glimpse, however, is all we get.
We get to savor but a very small taste of eternity. It is over quickly. We will have partaken of the loaf and the
cup, bowed for the Communion Prayer, and sung the Communion Hymn. Then comes the benediction and out the door
we will go. Communion will be over. Worship will be done. A little fellowship, an hour or so of Sunday
school, and then we will go out from God’s house into that so-called real
world.
We
will have been to that weekly mountain top that is corporate worship. During Communion we will have caught a brief
monthly glimpse of the coming glory of God.
After the mountain top, after that brief glimpse of glory, then
what?
In
today’s text Peter, James, and John accompany Jesus to a mountain top. There Jesus is revealed in all of his
transcendent splendor. The three
disciples get an eye full of glory that we can’t even begin to imagine. Moses and Elijah are there. The experience is so wonderful, so glorious,
that Peter begins a grand statement about how all of them should take up
residence on the mountain top.
But
Peter never finishes his speech. The
Great God Almighty himself speaks from a bright cloud telling them that Jesus “is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well
pleased; listen to him!” Jesus is
the real deal, the true Messiah with whom God is pleased. And with words that end with an exclamation
point in today’s text the disciples are told by God to listen to Jesus.
The
disciples are appropriately awed. They
fall down in holy fear. Jesus reassures
them with his touch. Then, boom, it’s
all over. No more transcendent Jesus, no
more bright cloud, no more Elijah, no more Moses. Just three overwhelmed disciples alone with
the same Jesus whom they had accompanied up the mountain. Their eyes had seen the glory – now what?
Back
down the mountain they went, taking up again their journey with Jesus to
Jerusalem. Watching him preach, teach,
and heal. Knowing, because he’d already
told them, that he had set his face toward Jerusalem, to that place where his
cross awaited him. Still naively hoping
that things would turn out differently once they arrived in Jerusalem. Even after they have been given assurances of
resurrection, they aren’t ready for a crucifixion. Wishing that they could have stayed on the
mountain top.
Nice
wish. Normal even. Mountain top experiences are always more fun
that long treks down a hot, dusty road that will bring us to a cross. Mountaintop experiences are cleaner and safer
that going out into the world to deal with lost, lonely, hurting people –
people who need to know Jesus. Mountain
top experiences take us away from the realities of life in Christ: servanthood,
sacrifice, and the possibility of suffering and dying in the name of our
Savior. Glimpses of heaven, brief though
they may be, are always preferable to the messiness that is life out there in
that so-called real world.
It
really isn’t the real world, not the real world created by God. It is world riddled by sin, a world where
even the best people are sinful and imperfect.
It is a world awaiting the redemption that will come when God’s Kingdom
shall appear in all its glory. Real or
not, it’s the only world we have. We
must live and minister in it, proclaiming a Gospel that will often fall of deaf
or hostile ears, practicing a servanthood that will be taken advantage of by
some we seek to serve, and speaking God’s truth to those who are content to
listen to the Devil’s lies.
The
Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. knew all about living and ministering
in our so-called real world. Speaking
out in the name of Jesus about racial inequality, prejudice, bigotry, and the
cruelty that often accompanies such things Dr. King found himself at odds with
a nation and culture that liked things just the way they were. He was threatened and jailed. He was the target of false and malicious
accusations.
Yet
he persevered, and in the midst of some of the worst stuff that the world could
throw at him, he could still preach about having been to the mountain top,
about having seen the coming glory of the Lord.
He could have rested on that mountain top basking in the revealed glory
of God, but he didn’t. He walked back
out into this sinful world of ours and on an April night in Memphis found
himself on the receiving end of an assassin’s bullet.
Disciples
of Christ are not called to stay safely put on mountain tops. While called to worship and partake in the
Sacraments, our lives are not meant to be one great big life-long prayer and
praise service. We cannot sit at the
Communion Table forever. We are called
to go out into the world proclaiming the Gospel, witnessing to Christ’s saving
love, speaking God’s truth, and teaching others all those commandments Jesus
taught his disciples. In other words
listening to and then obeying what Jesus has said.
And
so we go, sometimes reluctantly, often haltingly. We go out into the world to serve Jesus,
opening ourselves to criticism, rejection, hostility, and occasional
humiliation. Sometimes we have our own
crosses to bear in the name of Jesus. We
never know when the world will come to hear our preaching as meddling. We don’t always know what awaits us. Maybe jail.
Maybe a bullet. Yet we go.
But
we do not go alone. Peter, James, and
John didn’t come down that mountain by themselves. Jesus came with them. Just as Jesus is with us in our worship by
the power of the Holy Spirit and just as he by that same power sits as host at
the Communion Table, so too is he with us as we serve him in the world. He’s with us on the mountain tops. He is our companion in those marvelous
moments when we see the coming glory of the Lord. After we have seen that glory he is with us
still, touching us in comforting ways.
Amen.