“God of the Valley”

Transfiguration Sunday

March 2, 2025

Exodus 34:29-35

Luke 9:28-39

Children’s Message:

So, today we heard a story about Jesus and three disciples who made their way up to the top of a mountain to pray. And while they were there, Moses and Elijah appeared out of nowhere and joined them. Do we know what Moses and Elijah looked like? Neither did the disciples. This was WAY before cell phones and viral videos and cameras and photography. No one painted their portraits to hang on a wall. So, what I want to know is, how did they know it was Moses and Elijah?

So, let’s play a quick game. Tell me how you know if a person is a doctor or a nurse.

How do you know if someone is a cop?

How do you know if someone is a teacher?

How do you know if someone is a judge?

How do you know if someone is a Christian?

That last one is the hardest, isn’t it? Because Christians wear all kinds of different clothes, come in all kinds of different colors and sizes, do all kinds of different jobs. But there’s one thing to look for that should help you figure it out. It’s not if they wear a cross. It’s how they treat other people.

It’s not fool-proof. But we know how a Christian should behave—helping people, serving people, loving people. Kind of like Jesus. That should be a pretty good indicator, don’t you think?

Let’s pray. Dear God, help us show your love and our faith through our words and our actions. Amen.

Message:

Today, we celebrate Transfiguration Sunday. This is the last Sunday in the season of Epiphany. We’ve spent the last few weeks reading the stories about how Jesus reveals himself to the world. At his baptism, God declared him the Beloved Son; he changed water into wine; he spoke with authority in the Synagogue; he even challenged assumptions about him in his hometown. But today, he reveals his unshielded glory to the disciples and invites the big names of Jewish history—Moses and Elijah—to stand by his side.

This is the big event. It’s the Super Bowl. It’s the Olympics. It’s Taylor Swift in concert. Let the ticker-tape and fireworks commence. Pour the champagne. Bring out the crown. Blow the trumpets. Glory to God!

But Jesus says, “No. I will not be your king. I will not be your victor.” Which throws the disciples off a bit, as you can imagine. All the signs are there. The mountain, for heaven’s sake. Mountains are holy places where holy things happen. Mountains are where we encounter God. Even the Roman and Greek gods were thought to reside on a mountain.

And that’s the whole point. In the transfiguration, we get the god we are expecting. But it’s at the cross where we get the God we need. The kind of god that rules from a mountaintop is one that loves to wield power, calls anything beyond the mountain profane, and watches from a distance as the world falls apart. The mountaintop god is disinterested in the personal lives and struggles of the people. The mountaintop god will sacrifice others in order to protect itself. The mountaintop god does not need nor want humans as partners in building the kingdom.

Jesus refuses to be made into a mountaintop god. Instead, he leads the disciples back down the mountain—down into the valley—down into sickness—down into chaos—down into hunger, poverty, homelessness, and hopelessness. He leads them down the path to Jerusalem. He leads them down the dark corridors of sin. And then, alone, he will travel into the depths of death, itself.

That isn’t to say that the mountaintop experience isn’t important. In fact, there are several lessons we learn from being present to Jesus’ glory. First, we learn that the Glory of God happens in community. It happens in the presence of those both past and present who recognize and affirm God’s power in the world. For us, it happens when we gather for worship, when we study in community, when we see God’s glory reflected in the faces of those around us.

We learn that transformation prepares one to serve. Jesus didn’t just stay on the mountaintop to bask in glory. He went down to serve and to die.

And we learn that glory and suffering happen simultaneously. Allow me to re-read this passage as it was reimagined by Debie Thomas (www.journeywithjesus.net):

On the mountain, a man bent in prayer erupts in sudden light. As glory leaks from every pore, three sleepy disciples cower in the grass and watch their Master glow. Two figures appear out of time and space; in solemn tones they speak of exodus, accomplishment, Jerusalem. The disciples, comprehending nothing, babble nonsense in response—“Let’s make tents! Let’s stay here always! This is good!” A cloud descends, thick and impenetrable. As it envelops the disciples, they fall to their faces, certain the end has come. But a Voice addresses them instead, tender and gentle. “This is my Son, my Chosen.” The Voice hums with delight, and the disciples, braver now, look up. They gaze at their Master—the Shining One-and a Father’s pure joy sings with the stars. “This is my Beloved Son. Listen to him.”

In the valley, a boy writhes in the dust. He drools, he cannot hear, and his eyes—wide-open, feral—see nothing but darkness. Around him a crowd gathers and swells, eager for spectacle. Scribes jeer, and disciples wring their hands in shame. “Frauds!” someone yells into the night. “Charlatans!” “Where’s your Master?” the scribes ask the disciples an umpteenth time. “Why has he left you?” “We don’t know,” the disciples mutter, gesturing vaguely at the mountain. Panic wars with exhaustion as they hear the boy shriek yet again—an echo straight from hell. He flails, and his limbs assault his stricken face. A voice—strangled, singular—rends the night. “This is my son!” a man cries out as he pushes through the crowd to gather the convulsing boy into his arms. Everyone stares as the father cradles the wreck of a child against his chest. “Please,” he sobs to the stars. “Please. This is my beloved son. Listen to him.”

We see the demons of economy, war, injustice, hunger, fear, and hatred dash whole communities against the rocks. We see fellow human beings writhe in pain and loss. We see hungry kids at school. We see those possessed by the love of power and money lord what they have over those who have nothing. We see those bound by addiction. We see those gripped by anger or grief or fear. We look in the mirror and see our own shortcomings. And we wonder, what is the solution? Is there a God?

As long as we are satisfied with a mountaintop god, we will continue to simply seek easy solutions, quick fixes. Build the walls higher. Stop charity. Take care of our own. Kill those who disagree—who challenge—who threaten. Take no risks. It’s someone else’s problem.

That may be the god we want, but it’s not the God we need. It’s not the God revealed in Jesus—who came down from the mountain, who came down from glory, who came down from power, who came down from certainty, who came down from victory…who came down from heaven, embodied fragile humanity, and died to show us what mountaintop gods do to people. And then he rose. He rose from the dead, he rose from the grave, he rose from our sinfulness, he rose from our captivity, he rose to usher in a new creation…to show us what a God of the Cross does for people.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE