Saturday, February 18, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Glory on the mountain
I have been hiding in the cloak of Jesus all the way up Mt. Tabor. Small little boy that I am, doll-sized this time, he has no idea that I’m here. Jesus knows his Father, and Abba knows I’m here. So maybe Jesus does too. But that’s OK. He hasn’t reached in to pull me out. He hasn’t told Peter, James or John to take me back down the mountain.
Jesus was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, like they could never have been bleached on earth.
OK, you can imagine how that felt to me! Like a bolt of lightning it felt. Like an earthquake there in Jesus’ pocket, burst into flame. My eyes shone in their sockets, until I could get them closed. Just in time, it felt like, before I was blinded by the light.
I wonder if it was such a good idea to do this. Maybe I should just sneak out and run back down.
Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses, and they began talking with Jesus. Peter, James and John were terrified and hardly knew what to say. “Rabbi, it is good that we are here. We can make tents for you and Moses and Elijah.”
How about that, Jesus? Then you can stay with your ancient friends (Moses and Elijah! How did they get here? Where did they come from? Did they know we were climbing the mountain today? Can they just come across the line between life and death so easily?”).
The air in Jesus’ pocket grew quiet, and it was darker than before. I held my breath, I couldn’t help it. Nothing happened, though. Just nothing. It was very still. Like before a storm.
A cloud came. Then from the cloud came a voice. “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”
That voice boomed!
Oh my God, aren’t we supposed to die if we hear Yahweh’s voice? Or, well, maybe that’s if my eyes see his face, I forget. Our rabbi never really got through to me about how important these things were, but I’m convinced now. If I knew I’d be hanging out of Jesus’ pocket on Mt. Tabor, I would have paid more attention to him. Instead of thinking about Deborah. But she was a very pretty girl. IS a very pretty girl.
Suddenly no one was with Jesus. Jesus was alone with his disciples. And they began climbing back down the mountain.
Oh, now I’ve done it. I shouldn’t have been imagining how pretty Deborah is! Moses and Elijah read my thoughts. They might even tell Abba Father what they heard. Saw? Felt? But wouldn’t Jesus have read my thoughts too? I’ve seen miracle after miracle, and he always knows what everyone in the crowd is thinking. Especially the Pharisees. And the one he is about to heal. I’m curling up, trying to hide, closing my eyes.
Don’t say a word about this, until I have risen from the dead.
Jesus doesn’t always make sense. He says stuff that goes way over my head. I’m a very short guy, so I guess that’s no surprise. But nobody knows what being “risen from the dead” means. Not a clue. Peter, James and John might figure it out someday, but not today. And they have to keep what he said to themselves, that strange thing Jesus said.
Faith is the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things unseen.
Will Jesus defeat death? Will he be born again? When he talked to Nicodemus he spoke with such certainty, not only about others, but surely about himself as well. God so loved the world …
By faith we understand. By faith Abel … by faith Enoch … by faith Noah … what is visible came into being through the invisible.
You readers are going to call this event the “transfiguration.” Do you know what means? Jesus’ transformation happens before our eyes. What is visible came into being through the invisible! God is alive! He stands right here with us.
And we aren’t supposed to tell anyone?
Generation after generation praises your works and proclaims your might, O Lord. Let all your works give you thanks and let your faithful ones bless you. I will praise your name forever, Lord.
(Hebrews 11, Psalm 145, Mark 9)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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