Monday, February 20, 2023

Down and Outward--February 21, 2023


Down and Outward--February 21, 2023

"Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “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.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” [Matthew 17:3-9]

Even Jesus doesn't intend for the extraordinary experiences to last forever--if you want to be where Jesus is, you've got to leave behind the spiritual "high" point and go with him in the lowly places.

That much is absolutely clear from the story we retell each year at this time, just before beginning the forty-day journey to the cross that we call Lent. And yet, it is also painfully clear just how much we seem to want to ignore the point of this story, and find ourselves wanting to make the mountaintop moments last forever... or to think that they are endpoints, rather than chances to catch our breath.

This, of course, is what Simon Peter has in mind when he blurts out his idea of building little sheds for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah to stay in--he wants to keep this amazing experience going, and he wants to stay there.  Now, before ragging on Ol' Pete, we should be honest and say that we ourselves often want to hold onto those positive spiritual experiences in our lives--those times when it feels like something mystical or even supernatural is happening--and to make them last forever.  Maybe it's a powerful experience you had in worship or prayer sometime; maybe it was a dream you had where it felt like God spoke to you.  Maybe it was a moment when a song brought you to tears, or you were surrounded by the beauty of creation in the woods or at the ocean and you just couldn't contain the sense of awe and wonder there.  Your list of times like that will be different from mine or anybody else's, but chances are, you've had some experience in your life where it felt like you were somehow closer to the divine.  

So sure, Peter wants to make this amazing experience on the mountain with Jesus last.  Of course he doesn't want to go back down the slope into the messiness of the world.  And of course he feels closer to experiencing God there beside the heroes of ancient Israel Moses and Elijah, where there isn't any laundry to be folded or work to be done, no irritating neighbors or intimidating Romans around.  Of course it feels like you have clarity when the very voice of God is speaking and calling your attention to what is important: "This is My Son.  Listen to him."  All of that is so much simpler and clearer than everyday life, where there are bills to pay, children to care for, and the ambiguity and clutter of regular life.  So it's perfectly understandable to want to stay up at that spiritual "high" point where there are no responsibilities, routines, or people with needs to attend to--only the majesty of the mountain and the feeling like you are somehow closer to God, or at least that God's presence is clearer to you.  But it is exactly because the rest of life isn't up there on the mountain that we can't stay there--Jesus leads us back down and outward to be the presence of love everywhere else.

Surely if anyone has a right to get to stay there on the mountain forever, it's Jesus; and surely if he thought it was a good idea to stay at that impromptu camp meeting for all eternity, he would have told Peter, "Great--you get the sawhorses for building the sheds, and I'll make some fresh lumber appear."  But Jesus knows that the point of his coming into the world is not to pull pious people "out" of the world and sequester them up on a summit for never-ending praise songs and mystical experiences, but rather to immerse fully IN the world in all of its brokenness, frustrations, and heartaches.  That's why he summons his followers back down the mountain rather than taking Peter up on his offer to build a tent city up there for Moses, Elijah, and himself.

I can remember when I was in junior and senior high school and our church youth group would go to regional gatherings of other youth groups; I've even had my share of times as an adult speaking at those.  And I know that they can be powerful, emotional, and moving spiritual experiences for people--they can be times when God seems closer to us, or when our faith is especially vibrant.  Maybe it's seeing so many other people in the same place all singing the same songs, or sharing the same feeling in the room. Maybe it's just being removed from the usual responsibilities and ordinariness of daily life.  But at some point, you grow up into seeing that the time "away from normal" at a gathering, retreat, conference, or whatever else you call it is never meant to be an end in itself.  It's meant at best to equip us with clarity to head back into the messy places, the heartbroken places, among people who are struggling to see God in their midst.  In other words, you learn that the Jesus way of life doesn't pull people "out" of where they're at to go somewhere else to meet God, but comes "in" to every place that feels godforsaken to embody the presence of God's love there.

If we are learning to love like Jesus--and I hope that much of our journey together is clear--then it will mean following him down and out.  It will mean being willing to leave behind the moments of spiritual and emotional "highs"--whether they are planned or purely spontaneous--to go where Jesus leads us in the lowly places... because that's where he's always eventually headed.  Our older brother in the faith Martin Luther used to say that when we look for God in the mountaintop places full of glory, we're likely falling for an illusion, but rather in Jesus we come to see God in all the un-glorious, unlikely, and disreputable places that a respectable deity wouldn't go... even to a cross.  Maybe we need the mountaintop experiences from time to time to get our bearings, but like a dolphin or a whale coming up for air just long enough to go back into the depths for where our actual lives are lived.

Today, the invitation is for us to head where Jesus directs us--not up and out of the world and its problems in a never-ending church service where even Moses and Elijah are guest speakers--but back down into a messy and needy world. And there, among those who hurt, whose hearts are heavy, and who feel godforsaken, we discover that Jesus is already there waiting for us.  Let's go.

Lord Jesus, give us the courage to trust you as you lead us back down the mountain and into the world.

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