Something wonderful is often described as a “mountaintop experience.” When you’re at the top of a mountain you can see far, the air is clear and crisp, the ordinary troubles of life seem small in comparison to the expansive vision stretched out before you in all directions. Dr. King famously talked about having a mountaintop experience. I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. It is wonderful to be on the mountaintop. You understand the instinct of St. Peter when Jesus invited him and his companions to the mountaintop that he would want to stay there. “Let us make three tents.” Let’s stay on the mountaintop where things seem to be so clear. Let’s stay above all the troubles of this world.
However, there are mountaintop experiences and there are mountaintop experiences. Check with Isaac and see if he wanted to remain on top of Mount Moriah after his father pulled a knife on him. If you’ve ever been on the mountaintop when a thunderstorm suddenly blows up you know you don’t want to be there. And Dr. King never got to the promised land he saw. The day after his mountaintop speech he was assassinated in Memphis. This perhaps explains why Peter’s tent-building plan was not such a good idea. Yes, it can be wonderful being on the mountaintop – but how does the expression go? — It’s a nice place to visit but you wouldn’t want to live there.
Notice that Jesus took Peter, James and John and “led them up a high mountain apart by themselves.” That serves as a reminder that while mountaintops can be a mixed bag there is something important about being there – and not just being there but being able to remember what it was like to be there. Apparently Jesus took the companions up the mountain so they would have a positive experience before they had to deal with the negative experience of the suffering and death that was on the horizon. By remembering the mountain of glory they could cope with the valley of despair. That can true in our lives as well. Let me give you some examples. When I was about to be ordained (after what seemed like 823 years in the seminary) my mother pulled me aside to give some pastoral advice. John, she said to me, when people come to you to get married make sure that they love each other. I said something dismissive like, well, sure, but she persisted. I’m serious. Being married is really hard and in the rough times it helps to be able to remember that at least at one time I really loved this person. The mountaintop of falling in love helps get someone get through the slog of the daily grind of married life. Another example: having a child. Parents report that holding their new born for the first time causes a burst of love that is a peak experience. How important it is to be able to remember that mountaintop moment when the two year old is just saying “no,” when the eight year old won’t go to bed and when the teen-ager is, well, being a teen-ager. An example closer to home: St. James day. Having an experience in church marked by prayer, joyful music and praiseful worship; gathering as a community with people who mean so such to us; welcoming back old friends and welcoming in new; sharing a table groaning with all the wonderful pot-luck specialties of people bringing their favorites – all of this sends us to the heights on St. James Day. Being able to remember that should sustain us during a time when we are in the valley of social distancing, pandemic fears and living behind a mask. Just as Jesus counted on the mount of transfiguration to help the disciples to hold out, our mountaintop experiences equip us to keep on keeping on until our change comes.
Which brings us to this moment. We’re not on top of the mountain and won’t be for awhile. How do we handle it? Peter, James and John were given their marching orders instructing them on how to bring the mountaintop experience into the valley: “This is my beloved son. Listen to him.” First, therefore, recognize who Jesus is and what he means. “This is my beloved son,” said the voice from heaven. Now Peter, James and John knew this Jesus pretty well by this point. They knew him as their friend and companion on the road. They knew him as someone who liked going to dinner parties. They knew him as a man of compassion for others. They knew him as someone who connected with the marginalized, the sick, the sinner. They knew him as the one who taught them about how to live. The voice challenged them to understand that getting to know Jesus also meant realizing that as the Son of God he bridged the gap between heaven and earth. What the disciples, and what we as disciples, must do is meet Jesus as someone who shows us the infinite worth, the infinite value that we have as human beings. Since Jesus is the Son of God by nature we are all children of God by adoption and hence precious in the sight of God and destined for life, life to the full.
The second task we must take from the mountaintop is to listen to Jesus. By listening to him we find our way through the valley of darkness to the green pastures. Listen to Jesus when says, “Stop worrying. You are worth more than many sparrows. Your heavenly father knows what you need.” Jesus says, “Stop judging. Don’t worry about the splinter in your companion’s eye when you have a two by four in your own.” Jesus says, “Forgive and you will be forgiven.” We’ve heard these things before but when we listen to them, when we take them to heart, then we can start climbing up even the rough side of the mountain to the glory of resurrection. So, getting to know the “beloved son,” and “listening to him,” will be the elevator car taking us straight to the top.
