Broadway Christian Church · Columbia, Missouri

Morning Worship · August 31, 2008

Sixteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Prayer of the Day

Gracious and loving God, as we embrace the transitions that are before us, we pray for your continued guidance and wisdom. We know that you are our God and you hear our prayers. Through Christ we say together, Amen.

Scripture

Matthew 17:1-7

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter, James, and his brother John, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. Jesus was transfigured before them. His face was like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus.

Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will make three dwellings here.” 

And while he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the beloved. With him I am well pleased. Listen to him!”

When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched the disciples saying, “Get up. Do not be afraid.”

Message

Coming Down the Mountain

Jacob Thorne

I want to begin this morning by sharing with you a story about a powerful executive who rented a small office in a high-rise building in New York City. One day his office seemed darker than normal. He looked up at the ceiling, and he realized that a seven-foot florescent light had burned out. He reminded himself his lease agreement stated that only janitors could replace light bulbs. For this service there was a fee, or an extra charge, of $20. In his mind, paying $20 to have a light changed was a ridiculous fee. So, he decided to replace the florescent light himself. 

That evening while riding home on the subway during his daily commute, he thought about his plans. After some internal deliberation, he decided the following morning he would stop at a hardware store that was located close to his office. As he went to bed, he set his alarm to wake him earlier than normal.

The next day, he left for work, boarded the subway, purchased the light bulb, and entered his office before everyone else had arrived. For a few minutes he felt very proud of himself. It was a simple task to change the florescent light. He was happy. He had saved himself some money, but then he realized a flaw in his plan. He had to do something with the burned-out light. He couldn’t leave the old light in the office for the janitor to throw away. So for a few moments he had a little bit of a panic. Then he remembered that close to his home there was a dumpster outside a restaurant that was being renovated. “No problem,” he thought.  “I’ll carry the old florescent home, and I’ll throw it in the dumpster. Easy task.” 

The executive stayed late until everyone else in his office had left. He sneaked through the lobby of the building, and he quickly boarded the subway. When he got on the subway, he realized that because he was coming home later than normal, the trip home was extremely crowded. He would usually sit on the subway, but this time he was forced to stand. So, he’s standing on the subway train, and he’s holding the seven-foot florescent light tube.

He’s riding on the subway, and to his huge dismay, six people within a matter of moments grab onto the light tube. A couple more stops go by, and by now eight people are holding on to the light tube. (This is a true story.) The riders are convinced that this light tube is part of the subway, and that’s all that is holding them and supporting them.

His stop gets closer and closer, and he’s really starting to wonder what he should do. Suddenly, he has this great idea. He simply turned loose of the light tube, and he walked away. He left those six people holding to that fragile light as if it were all they needed to be safe and secure.

When you think about this story for a moment, it can lead to some interesting questions. What happens when there is only one person left holding the light? What happens if there is a sudden stop? What happens if a security guard asks, “What are you holding on to?” 

That’s the end of the story. I don’t know what happened.

Our Scripture reading this morning takes place on a mountaintop with Jesus and three of his disciples, Peter, James, and John. Matthew tells us that all of a sudden Jesus was transfigured before his disciples. 

It’s uncertain what the word in Greek “transfigured” exactly means. We are certain, however, that it is both symbolic and historic. It suggests something similar to “shining,” to being “full of God’s presence.” In the Jewish tradition, Adam, Abraham, Moses, and many others were transformed and transfigured at one point or another. It’s also not a coincidence that, as Jesus undergoes his transformation, Moses and Elijah appear. Matthew suggests that with the presence of Moses and Elijah, Jesus fulfills not just the New Testament but the Old Testament as well. Jesus is a continuation of the prophets.

Now, when Peter sees everything that is taking place, he asks Jesus if they should build dwelling houses or tents and stay on top of the mountain. Jesus answers, “No.” Then he tells Peter, without even hesitating, “Do not be afraid and return down the mountain.” 

Some readers criticize Peter for asking Jesus to stay on top of the mountain. Matthew sometimes makes it appear as if Peter routinely questions the authority of Jesus. One chapter earlier, in Chapter 16, when Jesus foretells his death and resurrection, Peter is the only disciple who stands up and says, “No. I don’t want this to happen to you.” 

But I don’t think Peter is causing trouble or questioning authority. I think Peter is honest. He’s afraid of what will happen. Peter is afraid of the future. Peter understood that he was leaving something behind, something deeply spiritual and sacred, and he was going forward without knowing what was next to come. Peter recognized that when they went down that mountain, he couldn’t say for certain what he would be left holding on to. What does it mean to leave and not know for certain where you are going?  

For the last 23 years, Rick has been the senior minister and leader of this congregation. Rick has led us on a journey. It has been a journey that may, in many ways, be compared to being on top of a mountain.  Rick, in a shared ministry with each of us, has led us to a destination in which we have reached new heights. We have experienced ministry that we never dreamed possible.

Now it is time to start a new journey, and as much as we want to, we can’t stay on the mountain forever. We have to keep moving, keep exploring, keep climbing new mountains. 

In order to start our new journey, we have to find ways to confront, accept, acknowledge, and work through our fears, whatever those fears may be. We have to find a way to let go of what we are holding on to. For some of us, myself included, there is the fear of the unknown.  What will it be like without Rick? How will things be different? How will things be the same? Who will be our leader and spiritual guide? What will happen when someone close to us becomes ill or dies? Who will do our funerals and weddings? Who is going to fill the void of what has been so powerful? Who will calm our anxieties? Who are we going to hold on to?

When I ask myself these questions, I try to reflect on how my faith plays a role in finding the answers. Lately, I find myself thinking about the story of Abraham in book of Genesis, the first book of the Bible.

God says to Abram, who later becomes Abraham, "Go from your country, and your kindred, and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great so you will be a blessing.” 

And so it was with no more than a hope and a promise that Abraham and Sarah left everything they knew behind. They went toward a place, a land where they had never been. 

Sometimes in life, I think it would be nice if we knew exactly what was going to happen. But that, as we all know, is not what life is about, and that is not what faith is about. 

Our lives are shrouded in journeys. Some of the journeys are predictable, but most are not. If you had asked me ten years ago if I thought I’d be here this morning preaching at Broadway Christian Church, I probably would have said, “No.” 

But where do we end up? Where will the ministry of Broadway Christian Church go next without the leadership of Rick? I don’t know the answer to these questions, but what I do know is that how we live out those questions is what really matters. 

On the mountain, Peter desperately tries to hang on to Jesus precisely because life is unpredictable. But what Peter forgets, and what I often forget, and maybe you have as well, is that we have already been given something.

As I was preparing for this morning, I thought about how well the story of the executive and the florescent light relates to the lectionary reading that is often used on Easter morning. In the gospel of John, Jesus appears to Mary and says to her, “Why are you weeping. Whom are you looking for?” 

And Mary says to Jesus, assuming that Jesus is the gardener, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 

And Jesus says to Mary, “Mary, do not hold on to me.” 

Scholars disagree on why Jesus tells Mary not to hold on to him, but I think the answer is obvious. Jesus tells Mary not to hold on to him for the same reason he tells Peter that he cannot stay on the mountain forever. 

Great spiritual leaders already have hold of us. They have already taken us to the dazzling white-hot presence of God, who is not behind us but ahead of us every step of the way. So, as we move forward today, we continue on knowing only for certain that God is already with us.

I think the main challenge for us in the coming months and years is not what will happen next, but rather how we will travel the journey wherever we are led. Is it with the faith of Sarah and Abraham? Will we trust that God will take us where we need to go and provide what we need to have? 

When Peter was standing on that mountain, he sensed something beautiful. Who can blame him for wanting to hold on to the beauty of the moment and not let go. But when we continually hold on to something, whatever it may be, we don’t leave room for new beauty and new experiences. Beginning a new journey is a call and an invitation.

Mark Yaconelli, who is coming to Broadway in February as part of the Northeast Area Workshop for Youth Ministry, tells the story of how several months ago he was sitting in the Seattle-Tacoma airport. All of the flights had been delayed.  There was a major storm in the area, and everyone was grouchy and irritable. Knowing that he had a wait of at least several hours, Mark decided to stop at a restaurant and get some food. He sat down at a table that overlooked the airport terminal. As he waited for his food, he watched all the passengers frantically trying to rearrange their flight schedules.

In the middle of the terminal there was a grand piano with a sign on top of it that read in very clear, bold letters, “DO NOT TOUCH.” Out of the corner of his eye, Mark watched a young teenager walk towards the piano. The teenager’s pants were baggy. His hat was on backwards, and he had a chain looped across the side of his pants. The teenager went up to the piano, took off the sign, sat down at the bench, and began to play. Right away it was evident this young individual was an extremely-gifted pianist. As he began to play, a crowd gathered around the piano. The music was therapeutic and calming. People stopped talking on their cell phones. Mark watched as several people closed their laptops, stretched out their legs, and listened to the music. While the piano was being played, another individual, this time a college-aged young man, started making his way through the crowd. He was carrying something on his back. It was some sort of case. When he reached the piano, he nodded to the player, and he opened up his case. For the next 20 minutes, Mark watched in awe as the pianist and the violinist performed an impromptu concert with one another. Their music floated through the airport terminal. It was almost magical. One would nod at the other, and this great music was instantly produced. The violinist would play an incredibly difficult piece accompanied by the pianist, and then the roles would be reversed.

When they finished, those who had been watching tried to hand them dollar bills and tips, but both musicians just shook their heads “no” and briefly smiled at one another. The violinist closed his case, and the pianist put the sign, “DO NOT TOUCH,” back on the piano. 

For that brief period of time, Mark had been mesmerized. He wanted to hold on to that experience and take it with him, but then he realized that what he had witnessed would likely never happen again. It was the beauty of life that afternoon in the airport terminal. It was the beauty of being connected to total strangers and not knowing where his life would lead him next.

The message of Christ on the mountain is also a message of beauty and connectedness. Despite the unknown, we affirm that we are called to live our lives fully and to trust in God’s love. We are called to let go and make a commitment even when we don’t know for certain where we will be led. 

Life has pain. Life has vulnerability. Life has heart-breaking beauty, but that is what it’s all about. That’s the invitation: to be bold, to be brave, and to remember that the spiritual life is about letting go, living fully, and trusting completely in God.

Through Christ, we all say together… “Amen.”

Benediction

God of the Journey, you call us, you name us, and you change us. Make us to be like you, shining in the light of your glory as we cover the earth, from mountaintop to valley with the good news of your love. Amen.