I had a late night. Maybe not the latest kind of night. Some nights never end. Still, I’m tired, and I get tired of this kind of thing, putting God in the clouds with dead people appearing out of nowhere. Not to mention lighting up Jesus in the middle of it. Transfiguration you call it. Put a big term on it and call it glory. Give it a rest, please.

Let’s say this as lovingly as one can. (In other words, some anger has to be swallowed for this to come out right.) Last night was billed as the biggest night of football and maybe America. Anyone driving down a street saw that weird light emanating from big screens in windows. You won’t find anything else this year with more hype and spin. It makes last year’s election look amateur. But tell a story about a revelation of God, and you get tired? 

Sorry. Accept my apology please. It’s just that so many want a big show, a few feel good moments in song and commercials, spectacular halftimes, and hard fought competition. There’s nothing so bad in any of that, but still, when it’s over, does it get you through the next day, week, life? Has it helped enrich and sustain your relationships? In the long run, is the world getting better because of it? 

You see, what happened that day was for more than a show of the spectacular. Only a few best friends got to experience it. Peter, James, and John were brought along for a trek up a mountain. Once they reached the top, it wasn’t panoramic views that held them in awe. Something both strange and wonderful happened to Jesus. Suddenly, he wasn’t the man they had known and followed. That’s the point. His humanity fell away. He changed into something they may have sensed, even struggled to believe about him. He became not just the Son of Man, but the Son of God. Dazzling, luminous, blinding, fully overpowering light came from him and shone on him, a source that both generated from him and projected upon him. 

What’s more, two figures join him, two who are recognized as among the most influential prophets God had ever produced, Moses and Elijah. Note the past tense. What was before is now with what is present. All of God’s plan seemed complete. What could you ever say of this?

Peter has an idea. He wants to build some kind of shrine for all three of them, something that would commemorate and hold them there. He was afraid, afraid of the power displayed and afraid it would not last. Honestly, he didn’t know exactly what he was saying. 

Next, a cloud moved in. Both prophets had met God in a cloud. A voice, an unmistakable thought, maybe even knowledge beyond thought, spoke. “This is my Beloved Son. Listen to him.” With that, everything changed to how it was before. Only Jesus, just Jesus, was there. They started down the mountainside. He tells them not to speak of this until he “had risen from the dead.” If they were confused about what had just happened, his statement was even more incomprehensible. 

Any who have ever had a mountaintop experience will tell you it’s nothing that can be planned, arranged, or scheduled. Spiritual encounters come out of the blue, filled with insights, revelations not previously perceived but somehow needed and relevant to a moment or period of life. And they never last. If anything, they serve as touchstones reminding of the source of that power, power greater than oneself in God who was, is and will always be.

Yet, that’s not the most significant part of the mountaintop. You can’t stay in the clouds. The path always leads down again to where the ground is level, the road of living and journey is before you. The experience never gives all the answers complete and packaged up for reference. Still, it does give direction.

Listen to him. Just Jesus. Block out the noise, negative voices, even the impetus to stay on the mountaintop and not attend to the challenges ahead. Listen to him. Just Jesus. 

Take from it how the spectacular, other-worldliness of the experience is only meant to spotlight the central figure in it. Listen to him. Just Jesus.

In the valley and its shadows, listen to him. When nights are dark and days threaten, listen to him. Train yourself even in sunshine and blessing; listen to him.

Just Jesus. That’s it.

Mark 9:2-9