H.G. Wells once told a fascinating story. It is about an Episcopalian bishop, though he could have been a cleric in any denomination. He was the kind of man who could always be counted on to provide a pious platitude. He had a favorite answer that always served him in good stead. When troubled folks came to him, he would assume his best stainedglass voice and ask, "Have you prayed about it?" If said in just the right way, no more needed to be said.
The bishop himself didn't pray much. After all, his life was quite uneventful. He felt quite selfsufficient. One day, however, life tumbled in on him, and he found himself overwhelmed. It occurred to the bishop that maybe he should take some of his own advice. So, one Saturday afternoon he entered the cathedral. He knelt down and folded his hands before the altar. He could not help but think how childlike he was.
Then he began to pray, "O God...." Suddenly there was a voice. It was crisp, businesslike. The voice said, "Well, what is it?"
When the worshipers came to Sunday services the next morning, they found the bishop sprawled face down before the altar. When they turned him over, they discovered he was dead. Lines of horror were etched upon his face. The good bishop had advised others to approach God in prayer, but when he found himself face to face with the Almighty, it scared him literally to death. (1)
The disciples of Jesus had a terrifying experience with God. At least three of them did. It was the inner circle consisting of Peter, James and John. They were with Jesus on a high mountain. Mark tells us simply that while they were in his presence, Jesus was transfigured before them. His garments became glistening, intensely white. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses talking to Jesus. And Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is well that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah." Mark tells us Peter said this because "he did not know what to say, for they were exceedingly afraid."
Have you ever been so afraid that all you could do was babble? People react in different ways to fear. Some become quite talkative, others morosely silent. Fear brings out the best in some people. Others crack under the strain.
The legendary Knute Rockne knew the power of fear. Today we call it "psyching out your opponent." Notre Dame was facing a critical football game against a vastly superior Southern California team. Rockne recruited every brawny student he could find at Notre Dame and suited up about a hundred "hulks" in the school uniform. On the day of the game the Southern California team ran out on the field first and awaited the visiting Fighting Irish. Then, out of the dressing room came an army of green giants who kept on coming and coming. The USC team panicked. Their coach reminded them that Rockne could only play eleven men at a time, but the damage was done. USC lost. They did not lose to the hundred men. They were beaten by their own fear. (2)
This was not the only time the disciples were fearful in Jesus' presence. There were many such occasions. In this same chapter Jesus tries to tell his disciples that he must be crucified but after three days he will rise. Mark tells us that they did not understand what he was talking about, "but they were afraid to ask him."
Gentle Jesus, meek and mildhow could anybody ever be afraid of Jesus? We have so sentimentalized this man from Nazareth that we cannot even imagine grown men being afraid in his presence, but they were.
And why not? If he is who we say he is, who could help being fearful in his presence? Here was absolute purityabsolute love. Have you ever been in the presence of someone who was so perfect that they made you uncomfortable?
We talked last week about Jesus' authority. Have you ever been around anyone who spoke with authority?
Vince Lombardi, legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers, spoke with authority. Even his toughest linemen were no match against Lombardi. "When he says `sit down,'" said one player, "I don't even bother to look for a chair."
I doubt that Jesus used the same leadership style as Vince Lombardi. Only a couple of times, according to the Gospels, did he vent his anger. Still, Jesus could not have been the passive, nonthreatening Casper Milquetoast sort of fellow some have made him out to be. He was absolute purity. That was the significance of the glistening white garments. Absolute purity and absolute love. These were the sources of his authority. The Transfiguration experience helps us focus in on Jesus' uniqueness and power, his purity and love.
One of the men whose stock has risen in the popular mind over the past few decades is former president Dwight David Eisenhower. W. Howard Chase handled the public relations part of Eisenhower's first campaign for the presidency. He tells about an incident that he believes was a turning point in that campaign.
Eisenhower was scheduled to make a stop in Colorado prior to the Republican convention. One of his supporters, a member of the meat cutter's union and a veteran of the 101st Airborne invasion of Normandy Beach, came up with an idea. How about an arrival lunch for 2,000 or more Ike supporters on the Friday before the convention? And how about if he and his union buddies assembled 50 paraplegic victims of the attack on Normandy in wheelchairs and on cots, with another 250 walking wounded front and center of the podium where Ike would stand?
It was a good idea and it was put into action. Using a mobilized cheering section of 5,000, Ike was met upon his arrival from Colorado at Union Station, and escorted to the hotel ballroom. He was not told of the conspiracy of veteran'sand unionsupport that awaited him.
At the head table there stood eight thick black candles, each three feet tall. From the upper balcony came the sound of Taps, accompanied by the poignant roll of drums. A ghostly silence swept the hall as paraplegic veterans of the 101st approached each candle, extinguished it and a voice from nowhere intoned "Corps of Engineers, 101 killed, 395 wounded," "Communications, 80 killed, 425 wounded," and so on down each of the eight components of the Division.
Eisenhower stood like an ivory statue, bloodless fingers gripping the lectern as the eery ceremony continued. When the final drum roll ended, and taps wound down, no one spoke or moved for a full minute. No one introduced Ike. Finally he broke the silence and spoke to the wounded. "With the help of God," he said, "this will not happen again." He said no more. The tension broke. From silence as in death, the ballroom became a chamber of pandemonium. The press, radio, and TV people were not immune. Their cheers, and tears, mingled with those of Eisenhower supporters.
W. Howard Chase turned to his wife with two words: "He's in." (3) Political gimmickry? Yes, but it would not have worked if Ike had not been the kind of man that he was.
Of course, Eisenhower was not in Jesus' league. That's all right. No one else has been either. The experience on the Mount of Transfiguration will not allow us to make a timid, tentative, tepid affirmation about this man Jesus. Either he is who he says he is or not. All heaven and earth depends upon our answer.
The verses that follow Peter's mindless babbling are insightful. "And a cloud overshadowed them, and a voice came out of the cloud, `This is my beloved Son; listen to him.' And suddenly looking around they no longer saw any one with them but Jesus only." (RSV)
The focus of the story ends where it must end -- on Jesus.
Herb Miller in his book, ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN VERBS tells about the famous Chapel of Loretto in Santa Fe, New Mexico. This chapel contains a twentyfoothigh stairway that winds into the choir loft. This engineering miracle, with no supports except its own form, has withstood several hundred years of use. As a pastor and his wife entered the chapel on their tourist excursion into Santa Fe, the pastor paid little attention to the giant, lifesize statue of Christ standing in a shadowy alcove on one wall. At a distance, it looked quite average. Shortly, however, the pastor felt a tug at his sleeve. "Go over there and stand right under that statue and look up into its eyes," his wife whispered. "It will give you the strangest feeling."
He obligingly wandered over, expecting nothing of significance. But the steel blue eyes looking down at him seemed so real that he waited breathlessly for the figure to speak and correct his lack of observational skills. This was the main thing in that roomnot the elaborate stairway, but the Christ. (4)
Mark tells us the disciples "no longer saw any one with them but Jesus only." There is more to those words than we might suppose. All other concerns were eclipsed by the glory of what they had seen on that mountain top. Quietly they would make their way back down the mountain pondering in their hearts the significance of it all. It was all too grand for them to get their little minds around. Even after the resurrection they would still be questioning, searching for understanding. But surely after the experience on the Mount of Transfiguration their lives would be elevated.
There is a marvelous story out of the life of George Matheson, one of the renowned preachers of Scotland in another generation, that gives us a "feel" for what this experience must have done for these three disciples. When Matheson came to one of the great Presbyterian churches in Edinburgh, there was a woman in the congregation who lived in filthy conditions in a cellar. After some months of Matheson's ministry, it came time for Communion in the life of the church. In the Scottish Presbyterian tradition, elders call on members of the congregation to sign them up for Communion. When the elder called at this woman's cellar with the card, he found her gone. After much effort, he tracked her down, finally locating her in an attic room. She was very poor; there were no luxuries. But the attic was as light and airy and clean as the cellar had been dark and dismal and dirty.
"I see you've changed your house," the elder said to the woman.
"Aye," she said, "I have. You can't hear George Matheson preach and live in a cellar." (5)
Is that not true for those who have experienced the reality of the transfigured and resurrected Christ? You can't live in the cellar of life after an experience like that. The disciples would make their way back into the valley, but a part of them would forever be on that mountain. Their fear had been transformed to faith. The focus of that faith was Christ and Christ alone. If for any reason, you are still living in the cellar of life, might I introduce you to the transfigured and resurrected Christ? He can set your feet on a mountaintop.
1. Haddon Robinson, PREACHING TODAY.
2. A. Philip Parham, LETTING GOD, (New York: Harper & Row). 3.
3. W. Howard Chase in Vital Speeches.
4. Herb Miller, ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN VERBS, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989).
5. Maxie D Dunnam, THE CHRISTIAN WAY, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Francis Asbury Press, 1984).