Suddenly two men were there talking with Jesus. They were Moses and Elijah, who appeared in heavenly glory and talked with Jesus about the way in which he would soon fulfill God’s purpose by dying in Jerusalem (Luke 9:30-31).
There are moments in life, fleeting moments, when the curtain between present and future is pull back and we see, just for a moment, what tomorrow holds for us. Glimpses, moments. It makes us stand, even for a moment, in the future. Here is a story that I can relate to, maybe you can too.
The teenager is playing one-on-one basketball with his father. His father shoots and misses. The boy steps back, shoots. It's a perfect shot and for just a split second that seems forever, father and son contemplate the reality that the son, who once was taught by the father, is now better, greater than the father.
"You know, that was an excellent shot. Better than anything I can do," says the father. The son smiles, but doesn't answer. Because both of them, for one small moment, have been given a glimpse of the future, the day when they will meet, not on a backyard basketball goal, but over a deathbed when the father will say, or maybe not have to say, "You know, I think you will live longer than I will. "I read this recently. May be you’ve had an experience similar to this.
The transfiguration of Jesus, which we ponder over today, is also a glimpse into the future. The event occurs right after Peter's confession. Jesus asks, "Who do people say that I am?" Peter gets the question right: "You are God’s Messiah. "Here, standing before them, is the long-awaited Messiah of God. But then, Jesus shocks them by telling his disciples that he "must suffer many things, and be rejected...and be killed,..." (Luke 9:22).
It came as a great blow to the disciples to hear that God's Messiah must also suffer and be killed. Worse, Jesus tells those who would be his disciples, "If any one would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23-25). They suffered a double shock: Jesus must suffer in order to be obedient to God; they must suffer in order to follow Jesus.
The disciples are told in no uncertain terms that Jesus will suffer greatly and die, and that if they follow him, they too will face the same kind of pain and lose their own lives. And the transfiguration on the mountain occurs right after this doubly distressing pronouncement. It's a strange story. Peter, James, and John, the lead disciples, go away with Jesus to a high mountain.
There, Jesus’ face changes its appearance, and his clothes became dazzling white. There, Jesus is seen talking with the two great figures of the Old Testament - Moses and Elijah. We are told they talked about what lay ahead of Jesus as he traveled to Jerusalem, the suffering and dying that he had already spoken about to his disciples. Then suddenly, they see only Jesus, and hear a voice from the cloud saying, "This is my son, whom I have chosen - listen to him!"
In this dazzling moment of recognition, it was revealed to these disciples who Jesus was. He was more than a man. They learnt that his suffering way of the cross was in accord with God's will. Moses (the law) and Elijah (the Prophets) depart, leaving only Jesus, now one on whom God's salvation rested. They learnt that the way of the cross was in accord with God's will.
Peter blurts out, "Master, how good it is that we are here! We will make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." Luke says Peter didn't know what he was talking about. He was excited at seeing this special glimpse into the future, but didn’t really understand what it was all about.
The transfiguration lasted only a moment. It was a glimpse of the future but the future had not yet become the present. The disciples accompanied Jesus back down from the mountain, back down into the valley where there were sick people to be healed, and disputes among the disciples to be settled, and lots more work to be done.
As Jesus promised, this included suffering, and death. As much as Peter wanted to, there was no way to freeze this glorious mountaintop moment, to make it last forever, to somehow capture the radiance of Moses and Elijah as visible, undeniable proof that Jesus was who the voice said he was.
They had to go back down to the valley, unable to tell anyone about what had happened, with nothing more to sustain them than a glimpse, one shining, very strange moment when the veil separating past, present, and future was pulled back and they saw.
An elderly man had undergone serious surgery that had left him only a shadow of his former self. A friend visited him at home and remarked how he admired his ability to function in his daily work, and even when his health was poor he showed little distress. The man replied, "Knowing that I’ll be dead in a few short years makes a whole lot of difference." He meant it.
What most of us know only as a vague, theoretical possibility, barely giving a second thought to how imminent our death is, this man knew as reality. As a result of his sickness, he caught a glimpse of the future. Now, every remaining day was shaped by that awareness. "Teach us to number our days," says," says the Psalmist, "that we might to in the gate of wisdom "(Ps. 90).
Morbid? Not really. Just a fact. A future fact grasped as present reality. It makes a difference. As we see Jesus in the Bible we are given a divine revelation. Of course to be able to receive this revelation we must first listen to God speaking to us through the pages of Scriptures.
I am hoping this will challenge each of us to get in touch with God through his Word. As we read, we will catch glimpses of the future in a personal way. We will see in brilliant colours and hear God speak to our heart. We will see that Jesus died to deliver us from the consequences of our sin, and has given us the glorious hope of life forever with him in heaven. We hear the voice of God say to us, "This is my beloved Son, listen to him!"
We will witness first hand, as the disciples did that day on the mountain, the revelation of God as the veil covering the future is lifted for a moment and in limited way see ourselves as one of the sheep of the Good Shepherd and as inheritors of eternal life. I say this experience is limited. It is limited because we aren’t able to appreciate fully the beauty and glory of God.
As Paul said, "What we see now is like a dim image in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. What I know now is only partial; then it will be complete - as complete as God’s knowledge of me" (1 Cor 13:11,12). The disciples stood in the radiance of God’s presence that day on the mountaintop, but they weren’t able to see the scope what it was all about. Likewise we see the future only dimly, but we can be sure that the future is firmly held in God’s hands.
I stood at the bed of one of my parishioners whose hours in this life were slowly drawing to a close. She was barely conscious, her breathing was slow. Suddenly her eyes opened wide, and he said, "Jesus is coming to get me!" and with that he took his last breath. Skeptics will say that she was hallucinating, that drugs were playing tricks on her mind, but I, and those gathered around the deathbed, believe that for a fleeting moment the veil over the future was pulled back for this woman and she could see herself in the presence of her Saviour.
We come here to worship, and we hear the Word of God. We are confronted with God’s revelation. We hear again the Good News of salvation, sins forgiven, the call to discipleship, the promise of eternal life. In some small way every time we hear God’s Word, celebrate the sacraments, the veil over the future is drawn away and for a moment we see the glory of the Lord, his will for our lives and our place in his family.
Can those revelatory glimpses help and encourage us along the way? We go back to the valley, to a very ordinary humdrum week, different, because for one shining moment, we have seen. The curtain between the present and the future is pulled back and we know the future as if it were now.
Wednesday is the beginning of Lent, the season of the cross. We shall begin a Lenten walk with Jesus down the narrow way of obedience, a way which leads to Good Friday to pain and death. As we go to be disciples know this: In Jesus Christ, God's past has come to fruition, the law and the prophets find their glorious fulfillment in him, God's Chosen.
When we walk out the doors of this church, the world may not look as pretty or sound as glorious as it does in here. It will be an ordinary, rather drab, February day out there, down there, in the valley, with nothing visibly different from when we came in.
But you see, we will be different. We may tell no one, though some may note something different about us. Yes! we will be different, having seen the future, God's future, having again heard the word that keeps us going until our next glimpse of eternity: "This is my son, whom I have chosen; listen to him!"
Rev. Samuel King-Kabu
February 22 , 2004