Up on the Mountain: A Sermon for the Feast of the Transfiguration

Luke’s telling of the Transfiguration of our Lord is notably brief and to the point. For being such a remarkable, other-worldly event, it’s almost as if Luke dares not try to make meaning of it. He just tells the story as it was told to him. I lament the fact that we don’t get a first-hand version from James or John. We do get a first-hand account from Peter in our epistle lesson today, but again, it seems really brief and to the point. Peter is mentioning it more to add to his own credibility for having been there than he is saying, “You’ll never believe what happened! Let me tell you everything about it, and the profound impact it had on me.”

I imagine that Peter, James, or John, when pressed for more details, would simply say, “You had to be there. Words can’t describe the glory and majesty of the event that we witnessed.”

Some of the classic takeaways from the Transfiguration event are confirmation of Jesus’ divine identity and vocation, the connection between the prophets of the Old covenant and the New, and the unique vocational identity given to Peter, James, and John. But today, I’d like to offer a bow of gratitude to 19th-Century Anglican priest George Whitefield’s reflection on the Transfiguration. Some of you may know Whitefield as one of the leaders of the 1st Great Awakening. He is estimated to have preached 18,000 sermons to as many as 10 million people in thirty years of ministry in Britain and the American colonies.

In a sermon that he preached on the Transfiguration, Whitefield – true to his evangelical roots – was much more long-winded than Luke or Peter. But one nugget that stood out for me was his emphasis on prayer. In the midst of trying to make meaning out the majesty and glory of the actual Transfiguration, Whitefield very pragmatically turns his focus to the very ordinary Christian vocation of prayer:

But, my dear friends, did our Lord Jesus Christ take Peter, James, and John into a mountain to pray? If Christ did thus, who had few wants of his own to be supplied, and nothing to confess and lament over; if Christ was such a lover of prayer, surely, you and I, who have so many wants to be supplied, so many corruptions to mourn over; you and I should spend much time in prayer. I do not say that you are to lock yourselves up in your closets, and not mind your shops or farms, or worldly business; I only say, that you should take care for all your time: and if you are God’s children, you will frequently retire from the world, and seek a visit from your God.

It's interesting that our Collect of the Day focuses on prayer as well:

Mercifully grant that we, being delivered from the disquietude of this world, may by faith behold the King in his beauty….

Whitefield would have known this Collect well, so maybe it influenced his thoughts to the relationship between the Transfiguration and prayer. After all, the event occurred when Jesus took his three disciples “up on the mountain to pray.” This detail that begins the story is oftentimes quickly forgotten once we get into the glory and majesty of the Transfiguration itself. But the glorious moment all began with a very intentional decision to get away from the noise, the crowds, and the usual hustle and bustle that our busy lives bring to us – to be “delivered from the disquietude of this world.”

Now, I have to be careful not to fall into the trap that I laid for myself in last week’s sermon and preach a “lettuce” sermon on prayer. If I’m not careful, the takeaway message might become something along the lines of “let us spend more time in intentional prayer this week.” Now, don’t get me wrong, there could be worse takeaways than that. But I think that the promise that is found in the Transfiguration narrative lies in what happens up on the mountain, when Jesus was transfigured.

Returning to George Whitefield’s sermon on the Transfiguration, he gets to the promise of God when he says,

“The way to have the soul transformed, changed into, and made like unto God, is frequently to converse with God. We say, ‘a man is as his company.’ Persons by conversing together, frequently catch each others’ tempers:

“…and if you have a mind to imbibe the divine temper… pray much. And as Christ’s garments became white and glittering, so shall your souls get a little of God’s light to shine upon them.”

Now don’t get me wrong…I don’t think that the promise of God in today’s text is that if we “go up on the mountain to pray,” we are guaranteed to have the same mystical experience that Peter, James, and John had. I am living proof that that is not the case. But notice that Whitefield doesn’t say “Pray much, and your souls shall experience Christ transfigured, alongside Moses and Elijah.” Rather, he says, “Pray much. And as Christ’s garments became white and glittering, so shall your souls get a little of God’s light to shine upon them.” Coming from an evangelical like Whitefield, there is a surprising amount of “Anglican reserve” in that statement.

But isn’t that all that we are looking for when we come to worship each Sunday? Isn’t that all we are looking for when we pray on our own throughout the week? Whether we pray corporately or individually, aren’t we simply longing for a little of God’s light to shine upon us? Wouldn’t we be satisfied with just a glimpse of God’s glory and majesty when we set aside time for worship and prayer?

One of the blessings of the Anglican tradition – and what I truly believe is our gift to the rest of Christendom – is our legacy of prayer – whether it be the Book of Common Prayer or the countless other collections of personal devotions and religious poetry. John Keble, one of the 19th-century Oxford Fathers wrote,

“I will arise,

and in the strength of love

Pursue the bright track ere it fade away,

My Saviour’s pathway to His home above.”

That is a very elegant way of articulating what each of us have done this morning – we arose and came to worship, in pursuit of what Keble calls “the bright track.” This quote feels very transfiguration-like to me.

Anglican priest Martin Thornton mentions the different ways we feed our hunger for “a little of God’s light to shine upon us” when he says, “Christian life is social, centered upon the corporate liturgy and expressed in love for the neighbor; it is also intensely personal, a relationship between God and unique individuality.”

There are many ways for us to experience a Little of God’s light to shine upon us – some corporate and communal (what we are doing right now) and some private (what we may do throughout the week). What Whitefield is asserting in his sermon on the Transfiguration – and I second that emotion – is that the more willing we are to go up on the mountain and pray, the more likely we are to get a glimpse of Christ’s garments white and glittering, and for our souls get a little of God’s light to shine upon them.”

This glimpse of God’s light that comes to us through isn’t God rewarding us for a job well done. Rather, it is the result of our daring to climb the mountain and approach God in prayer. It is what can happen when we suspend our disbelief, and trust that God will meet us atop of the mountain. In other words, God’s light is already shining…God is already there, waiting for us to enter into God’s holy presence. A few weeks ago I spoke about Jesus’ command for us to listen. Today, I feel like Jesus is commanding us to look…to explore…even to wander into God’s holy presence.

So, today’s remarkable story of the Transfiguration is closely linked to the sometimes mundane, even unremarkable act of prayer. It is as much a call to faithful, frequent prayer- and the promise of God that accompanies it – as it is a proof for the divinity of Jesus. It is not a guarantee that all of us will have the same sort of mountaintop experience that Peter, James, and John had atop that mountain when we pray. Actually, most of us will not. But God promises that all of us will ultimately come into the radiant light of our Lord’s fully transfigured, glorified presence. And when we do, our own bodies will also be fully transfigured in their glorified light. That is a promise that we can hold on to for the age to come. And for the time being, we will be given glimpses of Christ’s full glory – “a little of God’s light to shine upon us.” And the most reliable means for catching these glimpses is when we go up the mountain to pray.

At the very beginning of country band Alabama’s song “Mountain Music,” you hear somebody say “You see that mountain over there? Someday, I’m gonna climb that mountain.” That “someday” is today, and tomorrow, and every day. I’ll see you up on the mountain.