Get Up, and Do Not Be Afraid

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace from God our Creator and the Savior of the world Jesus the Christ. Amen.

The disciples of Jesus, by this time in Matthew’s Gospel, have come a long ways. Their lives, families, and work that they knew before Jesus discovered them are long gone. They have seen too much, done too much, and heard too much to not be unchanged. Lepers and paralytics have been healed in their sight, and parables have been shared that help to illustrate the fullness of God’s love. Thousands of people have been fed with a miracle of a few loaves of bread and some fish and John the Baptist has died with his head on a platter. Jesus has walked on water and welcomed foreigners. If anything, up until this point in Matthew’s retelling of Jesus, the purpose of Jesus’ and the disciples’ ministry is to make things plain: to destroy the illusions and misperceptions and lies that the people of the time had about themselves due to what the religious and societal structures mandated: if you were a widow, you were worthless; if you were sick, you were an outcast, if you were poor, you were laughed at, if you were hungry and needed food it was of your own doing. Jesus’ ministry so far in the Gospel of Matthew is about undoing these mistruths: again and again, the disciples witness Jesus heal, teach, feed, and preach his way into peoples’ hearts and minds so that they are transformed and changed towards what is the truth: the hungry will be fed, the sick will be healed, the outcasts will know friendship, the despairing will know joy, the uncertain will find security. There is no textbook, no law in this work – the tools of this ministry are hands and feet and hearts, fishermen’s nets and grain and wine.

In some ways, in the midst of the flurry of movement and healing and proclamation, with so much of the focus on Jesus, I can’t help but wonder if the disciples ever felt like bystanders, or if they were uncertain as to their role that they played. So what does Jesus do when his followers need to remember their own stake in all of this? Jesus takes them up a mountain – where we remember the Old Testament imagery of mountains serving as a meeting place for God and God’s chosen people. They leave where they are – they leave their towns and crowds behind and four of them, Peter, John, James, and Jesus climb a mountain. On this mountain, something happens to Jesus. The disciples witness a transfiguration. In other words, the body of Jesus is transformed or changed into something that reveals God’s presence. His face glows like the sun and his face is a dazzling white, the story tells us. After this moment of transformation, Elijah and Moses are with them, and Peter desires to build them each a dwelling – to keep them safe on the mountaintop, in the presence of God. Think of it, for a moment. On the mountaintop, things are safe. On the mountaintop, Jesus is safe. On the mountaintop, they are in the presence of God and away from those who have attempted to harm or subdue Jesus’ ministry, presence, and even life. Yet, we see that God will move Peter in another way: rather than building a home, or a space of safety, God proclaims something: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” After hearing this, they fall to the ground in fear and trembling – but Jesus approaches them and tells them to get up, and to not be afraid. To not be afraid of what they have seen, to not be afraid in what is to come, to not be afraid of having your own life transformed and transfigured on this mountaintop. The disciples are not to be afraid of following Jesus and listening to him even if it means following him to rejection, condemnation, and crucifixion. The disciples witness in this moment that the reality of building a life of love and true belonging to one another is not often safe, or comfortable, and that the price paid is too often social rejection, exclusion, and even death. The disciples’ witness in this moment that in choosing to follow Jesus, this is the life they have committed to: the building up of justice and mercy. And that life cannot be lived from a place of security, where God speaks to them. They must descend the mountain and return to the broken places and the broken people, and disrupt the standard order of things if the Kingdom of God is to be built among them.

What does this brief moment of transfiguration mean for us? What did it mean to Peter, John, and James as they descended the mountain and returned from their place of safety? I believe that this transformation of Jesus served not only as a clarification of who Jesus was – the Son of God, following in the lineage of the prophets who did similar work of loving people who couldn’t understand them – but also that the transfiguration gave the original disciples and us as faithful followers in 2020 reason to hope in the promises of God. This moment of transfiguration is a call to all of us to stand in the place of the disciples as they saw Jesus arrayed in white – “This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” My friends, as we witness Jesus transformed in our midst, it also gives us the opportunity to examine the lies we have heard about ourselves, and to dare to hope in words of affirmation. On Sunday morning, I look out into the pews and I wonder how many of us are struggling with not feeling good enough, not feeling worthy enough. I wonder how many of you had a big fight the night before with a loved one, or who are working overtime just to provide. I wonder how many of you bring feelings of anxiety, grief, pain, or loneliness into this sanctuary. I wonder what it would look like for us to take what we are feeling and to hold it in this space with one another – trusting in the power of this beloved community and trusting in the people who are present here, who have committed to increasing love and understanding and forgiveness and reconciliation. I wonder what it would look like for us to speak and act from our scars, not from our wounds as we use our difficult experiences of this world for good and harmony rather than discord and disappointment.

My friends, today I believe that the power of Jesus’ transfiguration rests with us and for us. I believe that the words of Jesus, as he reaches out and physically touches his disciples with all the compassion in the world and reminds them to not be afraid, belong to us and call to us. Today I ask you – what are the anxieties and worries that you want to leave on the mountaintop with God? What would help you to hope again? How do you want to share love and salvation with our world today? It’s okay to not have answers to these questions just yet because they are big. It’s okay to let silence accompany you, as I imagine likewise the descent down the mountain for the disciples was a time where they were figuring out what exactly happened and what it meant for them. As followers of Jesus, they knew he would one day die on the cross, but Peter, James, and John and we ourselves have also heard that perhaps this isn’t the end of the story. Perhaps there is yet reason to trust in resurrection, in ascension, and in the greater promises of this world: that goodness, mercy, hope, and justice will prevail. And to get to that ultimate goal, learners and followers of Jesus don’t need much: a faith that dares to hang on, a faith that dares to trust in moments of darkness, and hearts that desire community and belonging when so often we hear otherwise. Let us continue our ministry and life together, hand in hand, as we listen to the Beloved Son: “Get up, and do not be afraid.” Do you hear that small, still voice? God is calling, and we will answer. Thanks be to God.

Amen.