NRS Matthew 17:1
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. 3 Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4 Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." 5 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!" 6 When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7 But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." 8 And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. 9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."

May the glory of God light your way and give you courage; for the sake of Jesus the Messiah. Amen.

"Six days later" are the words that open this morning's gospel, and that opening, of course, begs the question, "Six days after what?" Well, if you look back just one chapter in Matthew you find that it's been six days since Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" It's been six days since Jesus followed up that general question with a much more pointed one, "Who do you say that I am?" It's been six days since Peter hit that nail on the head, declaring, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." And it's been six days since Jesus began to teach his disciples "that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised" (16:21).

In other words, it's been six days since Jesus touched off a major crisis among his disciples. Wherever they thought Jesus was going, wherever they imagined their Lord to be leading them, they did not foresee the cross, in his future or theirs. Peter said as much, actually scolding Jesus, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you" (16:23). To which, of course, Jesus responded with a fierceness usually reserved for the Pharisees and scribes, telling Peter, "Get behind me, Satan!" And as if that weren't already disorienting enough, Jesus then announced to his disciples that if they were really to follow him, they must take up their own crosses. Those who seek to save their lives will lose them, said Jesus, and those willing to forfeit their lives for his sake will find them.

It's been six days since Jesus dropped this bombshell, and it's been six days that the disciples' heads have been spinning, their ears ringing and eyes popping over a story line that they just could not wrap their minds around, and if we're honest, neither can we. I mean, if Jesus was and is the Son of the living God, then why couldn't he just snap his fingers or wiggle his nose and make everything right? (You know, like Samantha, in the old "Bewitched" series?) Why the cross? Why the betrayal? Why the agony in the garden? Why the suffering and shameful death? Why not just skip right to the resurrection? Smite the wicked, exalt the righteous, and declare victory. But no.

So after six days of deep confusion and internal dissension, Jesus took Peter, James, and John to the mountain, and there he granted them a glimpse of glory. Jesus did not reveal to them the secret counsels of God. He did not lecture them on the theology of atonement, nor did he lead them in a Bible study on the suffering servant passages of the prophet Isaiah. But instead, giving them a glimpse of glory, "he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white" (17:2). Of course, the glory of the Lord is no more understandable to them than the cross of the Lord. As Moses and Elijah appear alongside the transfigured Jesus, Peter suggests a tent-making project to build dwellings for Jesus and his prophetic forebears. Maybe he thought he could enshrine that little bit of heaven, or perhaps institutionalize it into something permanent like other Jewish festivals. But instead, the three disciples are enveloped in a shining cloud, from which a voice speaks, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" And just as suddenly as it began, it was over. When they look up from the ground to which they had fallen, shaken and shattered, they see only Jesus, who tells them, "Get up and do not be afraid" (17:8).

Sometimes all we need is a little glimpse of glory. Sometimes, when the night is long and the way drear, when it's all tunnel and no light, all we need is a little glimpse of glory. All we need is some assurance that even if we don't know where we are, or how we got there, or where we're going, there is someone who does. We need to know that there is a leader who knows the way and knows that the way leads to green pastures and still waters, to a place where cups overflow and the banquet table spreads on and on in everlasting feast. We need to know that for all the pain and disappointment, for all the trial and tribulation, there is finally peace, finally joy, finally glory.

When Peter, James, and John head down the mountain with Jesus, you could say that nothing has really changed. Jesus is still on his way to Jerusalem and his appointment with the cross. The disciples are still clueless as to why or how the Father has appointed this path for the only Son. But they have seen and they have heard, however uncomprehendingly, enough to keep walking and keep following the leader on a way that by faith will end, finally, in glory.

As I try to get the big picture on Christianity today, I think that maybe Christians fall into one or another of two basic groups. For one group, it's all glory, all the time. For these Christians, all you have to do is get Jesus and get happy, because once you've got Jesus, then everything falls into place perfectly. Your marriage improves. Your kids behave. Your finances prosper. Or so they say. But on the other side of the fence in the other Christian camp, it's all cross all the time. For these believers it's always Lent, it's all grim duty and perpetual responsibility. Don't get your hopes up. Don't start the celebration. Don't go patting yourself or anybody else on the back, because you might just knock yourself over.

I guess you know which camp we typically fall into. Here's a hint: today is "Commitment Sunday." So complete those pledge forms. Turn in your time and talent sheets. Pick up your copies of the annual report. Sign up for the Lenten lunches. There are still blank spaces on the flower chart. Don't forget to bring home your offering envelopes. Put your cans of soup for Faith Mission in the basket in the narthex. And remember: JESUS DIED FOR YOUR SINS.

Lord knows, we live our lives under the sign of the cross. Some part of most every day we find ourselves walking in the valley of the shadow of death. No one escapes suffering, grief happens (most often when we least expect it), and don't bother to go looking for your cross, because your cross will surely find you. Yes, the law convicts us at every turn, and yes, we are, in Luther's words, all beggars, das ist wahr. And yet there's this story of Jesus on a mountaintop. There's this story of Jesus glowing with the brilliance of God. There's this story that for all life's little miseries, for all the burdens great and small, for all the heartaches and hardships, when we listen to him, when we cleave to his path and attend to his Word, there is finally glory.

In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.