If Scripture were only a simple recording of facts, this episode would be most notable for its strangeness. Jesus – ‘revealed’ on a hilltop, shining and glorious – surrounded by heroes from history. Our ‘modern minds’ can hardly cope with such an idea. But this brief moment of transfiguration is part of a bigger picture. Mark’s gospel has been put together with deliberate precision – the ordinary events alongside the extraordinary – so that a larger story might be told. Scripture in general (and the Gospels in particular) are important because they tell the truth, not because they lay out ‘facts’.
The author of Mark is writing about Jesus as we know him – Risen and ascended – but his account must help us learn what it might have been like to see the wonder gradually revealed. We often ask questions like “would we have recognized Jesus’ greatness?” Would we have known what was about to happen…? I think not. It’s like trying to imagine how history will remember your newest grandchild…we simply can’t account for all the variables. There’s not enough information.
But the authors of the New Testament have all the information about Jesus they need. They have witnessed the aftermath of Jesus living, dying and rising. They have known the power of the Spirit’s movement through the crowds and in the lives of Jesus’ companions and disciples. They know the outcome of the story they are telling us – They are heralds of the reign of God, which they now know is coming closer day by day. This momentary, ‘shining’ Jesus comes out of that knowledge, and their desire that we know what they know.
Jesus has begun to teach his disciples what it means to be called ‘messiah’. Peter has declared Jesus to be ‘anointed’ (that’s what the word messiah means…) by God – for a purpose – and Peter’s declaration comes with certain assumptions.
Kings were anointed to rule. Leaders were anointed to prophesy. Anointing bestowed some divine authority on an individual, and lent that person some license to act ‘on behalf of’ God. Peter presumes that Jesus – as messiah – will be about more of the same. Ruler; restorer of national pride and dignity; “Up with us and down with Rome”.
All of that is part of Peter’s declaration (Mark 8:29), but Jesus understands things differently.
First, he calls them to silence (8:30). Then, he begins to teach them what it means. Persecution, suffering and death – that’s what it means for Jesus – followed by a glorious resurrection. Peter is having none of that. And Jesus responds with some pretty harsh talk (“Get behind me Satan…” 8:33). Mark brings this rather tense encounter to a close with some very challenging words (spoken by Jesus):
“Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.’
And he said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.’” (Mark 8: 38-9: 1)
All of this puts the Transfiguration in its proper, narrative context, as suddenly (six days later, during which nothing of note happens) Jesus leads Peter, James and John away for an object lesson. Having heard (and scoffed) at the idea of a glorious resurrection, the text gives us a foretaste of that glory – and gives us a perfectly marvellous way to launch our Lenten journey.
Clothes: dazzling white. Company: nothing but the best – Moses and Elijah – the law and prophets embodied and glorious in their own right. But all overshadowed by the presence (and voice) of the Holy One, urging us to listen to the beloved Son; listen to what has been said – to the description of the Passion, Death and Resurrection that Jesus has so boldly offered.
We are reminded at this point of the story because the going is about to get tough, and those who are not fully prepared for what is coming will find it hard to continue. Mark shows us the prize – lets us read the last page of the book – in the hope that it will give us courage.
As the story unfolds, we realize that even this is not enough for the disciples. All but the women will bail. The men, denying and discouraged, will go into hiding until glory wins the day. They couldn’t see the end game. They did not listen to Jesus’ assurance of victory. The characters in Mark’s gospel do not have the benefit of having lived the story already – only the author is omniscient. Peter James and John are speechless because they can’t know what it means. But Mark does – and so do we.
We who live on the glorious side of Easter – we who have never know Jesus as anything but Transfigured – are at a distinct advantage. The hope is always before us. The victory that God claims on the cross and at the empty tomb is always on offer, and such a victory challenges us to see hope in every failure of our collective character.
This brief, glorious moment is how the gospel tells us the truth; Jesus glory is present for us, every step of the way. At every moment of our misery, the risen Christ stands ready to rescue us from ourselves. Into the chaos of injustice, the voice of God’s justice thunders “Listen!” When we can’t see the outcome, and tremble at what the future may bring, the One who transcends time and space has given us a foretaste of the way things should be, and in love, urges us towards a place of justice, mercy and peace.