Matthew 17:1-9

Matthew 17:1-9 (NRSV)

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.”

Matthew 17:1-9 is the story of the transfiguration. The source is Mark. 

The biblical connection of this story is Moses ascending Mount Sinai in Exodus 24 and the story of Elijah, who also received a revelation on Mount Sinai. They personify the Law and Prophets. The uniqueness of this miracle is that Jesus does not perform it. It comes from outside him.^[1]

The text becomes a crucial step in the way Matthew reveals the identity and mission of Jesus. His description of the Transfiguration offers a tantalizing glimpse into the true nature of the Messiah. Jesus and the disciples have been traveling throughout Galilee and have made the bold turn at Caesarea Philippi that will eventually lead to Jerusalem and the passion of Jesus, death and resurrection. While the mission of following Jesus started out with the promise of faith for the disciples, it has since devolved into misunderstanding and fear. Just who Jesus is and what it means to follow him seems an ever more fleeting notion for the disciples to grasp. Yet, throughout the Galilean ministry, and now in the journey to Jerusalem, they have received many opportunities to see who Jesus is and to hear who he is calling them to be. In a broader outline of the gospel, this tradition about the Transfiguration falls into chapters where Jesus predicts for his disciples no less than three times his suffering death on the cross and his resurrection. The Transfiguration occurs amid these predictions, therefore, in order to offer an important revelation of the authority of Jesus both in relationship to the tradition (Elijah and Moses), and to God ("This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!"). The story serves as a signal flare during the clouded vision of the disciples. Yet, as the gospel unfolds, they continue to misunderstand who Jesus really is and where Jesus is really going.

Only after repeated emphasis on the gritty reality of the mission of Jesus does the astounding, uplifting event of the Transfiguration occur.  The only unambiguous fact about the transfiguration is that it is clearly a “mountaintop” experience.  The Father of Jesus blesses all who are present with this moment of glory.  

Six days later, after the incident at which Jesus asked the disciples who people say the Son of Man is in 16:13-27, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, tradition says Mount Tabor, though some scholars favor Mount Hermon, by themselves. ² And he was transfigured (μετεμορφώθη, displaying the transforming purpose of God) before them, and his face shone like the sun, generating his own light, and his clothes became dazzling white. Such brightness is symbolic of divine presence. In the time of Jesus and the disciples, the common thought was that the earth was larger than the sun. The philosopher Anaxagoras thought the sun was just a few times bigger than his country, Greece. The mathematician and astronomer Ptolemy calculated that it was bigger than Earth but estimated that it was just 150 times larger. It was not until the year 1672 that two astronomers calculated the true size of the solar system. Today we know that the sun’s volume is 1.3 million times bigger than Earth’s volume. The sun is powerful, big, and able to affect our daily lives. What I am thinking about here is that Jesus seemed small to many of his contemporaries. When three disciples had a vision of Jesus on the mountain, they thought they were doing great honor to him by equating him to Moses and Elijah. Yet, they slowly learned that Jesus was so much more than they imagined. In fact, following Paul in Colossians 1:15-20, he is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of al creation. The Father created all things through the Son, even economic and political powers, which to many of us seem so dominating and too often oppressive. This Jesus is before all things we see. In fact, he holds it all together. He is the first to rise from the dead, God giving him first place in everything. Let us be clear. The fullness of God happily dwelt in him. Through Christ, God reconciled the divided, violent, warring political and economic and economic order and even the estrangement and alienation that occurs in intimate relationships.  To reconcile in a way that respects difference is a challenging task. God has done so by making peace through the blood of the cross. Yes, Jesus is larger than any of us might imagine. Too many of us have appreciated Jesus, but have failed to understand his size, power, and effect. That which one day everyone will see, these disciples have the privilege of seeing in advance. ³ Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Moses and Elijah, according to Exodus 33 and I Kings 18, had direct communication with God. The passage quotes from Psalm 2:7, a hymn sung at the time of the enthronement of the king in Jerusalem. In other words, in this story, Jesus is king, Moses represents the Law, and Elijah represents the prophets. God the Father affirms the ministry of the Son. They represent the testimony of all Scripture‑‑both the Law and the Prophets‑‑about Jesus' true messianic identity. In addition, Moses' presence calls to mind the mountaintop transfiguration he experienced in Exodus 34:29‑35. The face of Moses also "shone" with a dazzling light after a voice from the clouds that covered the mountaintop addressed him. The similarity between the experience of Moses and transfiguration of Jesus receives an affirmation in II Corinthians 3:7-4:6. The apostle reminds his readers that, after his experience, Moses constantly “veiled” his face, while for Christians the event of the transfiguration of Jesus is only the first showing of the splendor and radiance of the glory of God that the resurrection will bring. The vision blends elements of the resurrection appearance tradition (e.g., the whiteness of his clothes, compare to 16:5) with Old Testament messianic imagery evoking Moses and Elijah. Some scholars would see this story as a misplaced appearance of the risen Lord read back into the ministry of Jesus. Yet, the presence of Moses and Elijah seems a little out of place if that were the case. More than that, Mark shows himself to be a good theologian and has good reason to place a narrative that reveals the identity and mission of Jesus. Jesus brings to its climax the work of the prophets who have proclaimed the word of the Lord. Jesus fulfills, brings to its desired conclusion, the entire story of Israel, who was to be a light to the nations. God formed the nation of Israel for a purpose. Israel was to be the vehicle of the redemption God wanted to offer the world. Israel was to be a witness among the nations of that longed-for redemption. Israel was to be a model of redemption. Israel existed for the sake of the redemption of the world. Jesus brings the story of Israel to fulfillment. He is the suffering servant of Isaiah 53. Yet, such a message of salvation and redemption would not be possible without the ministry of Moses, Elijah, and the ministry of the kings of Israel.[2] ⁴ Then (ἀποκριθεὶς, meaning "answered" or "said," denoting an abrupt breaking in to an established conversation, an interjection of something new into the discussion). Peter interrupts the conversation and said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings (σκηνάς) here, (suggesting the Feast of Booths) one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Many people think of the suggestion as wrong-headed and foolish. Yet, in Amos 9:11-12, booths of David refer to the dwellings that armies of David would use when on a successful campaign.  Is the booths Peter suggests temporary housing for some messianic army God will send, an army headed by Jesus, Moses and Elijah? The word Mark uses here refers primarily to those structures built during the Jewish holiday of Sukkot‑‑the festival of booths. Originally, an agricultural celebration of the harvest, by the day of Jesus Sukkot had taken on significant eschatological meaning. Gathering under the shelter of the Sukkot symbolized the gathering together of all the righteous in their heavenly tents. Yet, while this heavenly "sukkot" was eternal, those constructed by observant Jews on earth were intentionally temporary, lean‑to type constructions. A traditional sukkot could have four walls. More often, they had only three, or even two and a half. The roof was supposed to give only minimal shelter from the elements. Ideally, the stars, the lights of heaven, should be visible through the roof in several places. If we factor in all of this, Peter may have realized the transient nature of the occurrence. Desirous to do something to commemorate the event, he proposed building temporary shelter in which they could dwell.  He must know that regardless of the power of this vision, the mission of Jesus will not find its completion on the mountain. We as readers know it will find its completion in Golgotha. Yet, Peter may have wished to sustain the magic of this moment. If Peter listened, he would have heard the prediction of the passion of Jesus must precede the glorification of Jesus. ⁵ While he was still speaking, in images from Jewish eschatology, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, as in 1:11 at the baptism of Jesus, in the words of Psalm 2:7, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with only Matthew adding, with him I am well pleased. The voice from heaven confirms the confession of faith by Peter. The other times the heavens opened was the baptism in Matthew 3:13-17. These pivotal incidents represent God’s validation of Jesus as the bearer of divine revelation, both in his teaching and in his person. In both episodes, the voice from heaven echoes the text of Psalm 2:7, in which God utters the ancient adoption formula over heirs to the throne of the Davidic dynasty — “You are my son; today I have begotten you.” The use of the title “my Beloved” also may involve the biblical memory of Isaac and the near sacrifice of this son in Genesis 22. The heavenly voice speaks to the disciples, who have now become witnesses, a command, listen to him!” We as readers have someone new to whom to listen other than the Law and the Prophets, even if this new person is in conversation with them. Disciples are to live their lives bound by this obedience. The divine voice becomes another affirmation of the role of Jesus as Messiah. The entire event serves to demonstrate the authority of Jesus and his messianic identity. I have approached this text as if it relates a visionary type of experience within the ministry of Jesus.[3] An understanding of the eschatological future as revelation of the divine glory determines what New Testament authors say about the future of Jesus Christ. If we view the tradition as something that took place in the earthly history of Jesus and not as an account that originally belonged to the stories of the resurrection, then we may see it as an anticipatory manifestation of the glorifying that Jesus experienced at his resurrection.[4] ⁶ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. ⁷ But Jesus came, usually people approach Jesus, and touched them, usually in reference to his healing and raising people from the dead saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” ⁸ And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As quickly as the vision comes on, it has vanished.

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.” The disciples have their eyes opened. The appearance is over. As they came down the mountain, Jesus ordered them not to tell anyone about the vision until God raises “the Son of Man … from the dead.” The messiahship of Jesus is his secret, and one can publish it only when God fully discloses it from within.[5]

The language used in the church in which I grew up was that we need to invite Jesus into our hearts. I did that as a boy of ten. I have no problem with the language today. Each of us needs such an event in our lives that connects us with what God has revealed in Jesus long ago. However, we need to keep learning who Jesus is. He is not just in my heart, as important as that event is. He is the heart of divine energy that gives life to the universe. Since God has reconciled all things in Christ, we who profess being disciples of Jesus must confess that we have fallen short of this. We have not shown this reconciling power in our congregational lives, in our relationships between various denominations, or in the world. Yet, whenever and wherever we see peace replacing conflict, we know that the power of Christ is at work. Sometimes, we can even be part of this transformation because God calls all Christians to engage in the ministry of reconciliation.

 I would like to offer an analogy. The analogy carries with it a risk. I do not know how much the reader hungers for beauty. You know when beauty invades your ordinary experience. It captures your attention. If you have not had that experience, I think it is fair to say that you hope it will happen someday. It may happen with the physical or even spiritual beauty of person. It may happen in nature, of course, but it may also happen with a work of art. In that moment, as transitory as it may be, we will express something like the good fortune we have had to be there, in the presence of such beauty. Such beauty calls out to us. It calls us to recognize the true value and worth of another. We may have some thrill to be in the presence of such beauty. We are likely thankful. Beauty has a way of reaching out, seizing us, and demanding our attention. Such experiences of beauty may well provide a clue to give us a sign or glimpse of what it would be like to allow the beauty of the Lord to reach out, seize us, and demand our attention. If we do, we worship.[6]

Have you had what you would consider a genuine awakening to God? 

I am not thinking of conversion. I am thinking of an experience that “in some way” deepened your connection with God. Many Americans think they have had such an experience. About one third of all Americans claim a religious or mystical experience. Some of them felt a union with the divine. Some describe special communications with the dead, divine beings, or visions. Sometimes, light accompanies such visions.[7] An experience like that does not prove that God exists, of course. Yet, it can give assurance to one has received teaching concerning God. Such an experience can give some assurance at a deep and profound level, deeply personal, that one has heard taught is true. William James famously outlined his understanding of the mystical experience. The quality of these experiences at least four defining characteristics. James referred to them as mystical states of consciousness. Ineffability: these experiences are not precisely in ordinary language but only with the language of metaphor: "It was like . . .” Transiency: the experiences are typically brief; they come and go. One does not live in a permanent state of mystical consciousness. Passivity: they receive them rather than achieve them. Though spiritual practices may help create the conditions for such experiences, they are not under the control of the person. Fourth, these experiences are noetic. People who have them say they involve a knowing, and not just strong feelings such as joy or awe or dread or wonder (though they frequently involve one or more of these as well). Mystics are strongly convinced that they know something they did not know before. What they know is not another bit of knowledge or piece of information, but another reality: they have an experiential awareness of the sacred. 

Importantly, such experiences are transformative. They transform a person's way of seeing and being. Mystics see the world differently. Rather than seeing the world as "ordinary," they frequently see it as "suchness," as the playful and wondrous dance of the void. Moreover, mystical experiences also transform a person's way of being, leading to freedom from conventional anxieties and inhibitions and to compassion as a way of relating to the world. The Christians I know can often think of such experiences. Yet, they do not rely upon them. Most of Christian life is lived day to day, apart from such high and blissful moments. However, when I read of such experiences, when I reflect upon the few I have had in my life, it reminds me to be alert to every moment. If one can experience God like that, then God is in some sense knowable “right here” and not simply “everywhere.”[8] We need to hold on to time. We need to guard it and watch over it. If we do not give due regard to each moment, it will slip away. In a sense, every moment is sacred. Each moment can have its clarity and meaning. Each moment deserves the weight of our awareness. Each moment has its true and due fulfilment.[9]Overwhelmed with anxiety, we might see a vanity plate on a car that has the word “trust” on it. The ordinary moment can become a revelation.[10] Similar moments occur in worship when we catch some snippet of a phrase, some insight, some vision (which may be extremely difficult or even embarrassing to share with others) and base our lives upon it. Such are the ways of revelation. Such experiences have the intent of genuine transformation.

The British writer and humorist, Maximillian Beerbohm (1872-1956), has a story called “The Happy Hypocrite.” It is a sort of parable. The main character is a notoriously self-centered individual, named — appropriately enough — Lord George Hell. After many years of overindulgence in pleasures of the flesh, Lord George is a wreck of a man — as can be seen most clearly in his face, which is bloated and unhealthy looking. Something happens one day that changes George’s life forever. He sees a beautiful young woman and falls in love. It is a singularly pure attraction for such a corrupt and degenerate man. With every good intention, he wants to make her his wife — but he knows she would never accept his offer if she knew what he really was like. There is an element of magic to this story. Lord George Hell puts on the mask of a saint to hide his sinner’s face. As far as anyone knows, he is a kind and virtuous man. He courts the young woman and marries her. They live happily together. That is, until a woman shows up from George’s past. The mask does not fool her. She knows the man underneath it (or thinks she does). One day, in the presence of George’s wife, she confronts him and tears off his mask, expecting to reveal the bloated, pockmarked face of the old degenerate. What she reveals is something quite different. The mask was magical in many ways. Behind the mask of a saint is now the face of a true saint — the saint Lord George Hell has become, by wearing the mask.

The movie Life as a House (2001), is the story of a very dysfunctional family. The movie depicts an amazing process of transformation. The relationship between Sam, the rebellious teen, and George, his father, goes through a change as they tear down a shack and build a house together. As they build the house, Sam rebuilds his self-esteem and sense of identity. In the early stages of this transformation, George tells Sam, “Change can be so constant you don’t even feel the difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you do not know your life is better or worse until it is. Or, it can just blow you away, making you something different in an instant.”

⁹ As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. Their journey to Jerusalem is an essential part of the glory they witnessed on the mountain. Only when historical events will fulfill the proper conditions, when God will raise the Son of Man from the dead, are the disciples to speak about what they had witnessed with their eyes and ears. They will know the full meaning of the glory revealed in Jesus until he passes through crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. The identity of Jesus as Christ has a goal. The mission of Jesus is to reveal the power of the love of God in defeating the power of sin and death through the cross and resurrection. One cannot contain it in a shrine on a mountaintop. In this sense, we find Mark theologizing about the death of Jesus mentioned in Chapter 8 as “glory.” He views the death of Jesus as triumph. “If we could have had faith to listen, to see, we would have interpreted the passion prediction as foreshadowing glory.” The transfiguration story marks a transition from a Galilean ministry of miracles to a journey toward death in Jerusalem. As such, it manifests the relation between glory and suffering.  The transfiguration takes place just after the first teaching of Jesus about suffering and death. Despite the literally dazzling character of this story, nothing in it should be particularly new or shocking for us as readers.  Peter rejects the suffering that lies ahead, but he is all too eager to welcome the glory! Such a witness makes a profound theological claim. 

We as readers see the glory of revelation in Jesus during his work to bind up the brokenhearted, feed the hungry, and care for the sick. As the disciples and Jesus head down the mountain, they encounter in 9:14-29 a father and his epileptic son. The remaining disciples have attempted to help them, but they have not been able. The father pleads with Jesus to have mercy and help them. Jesus responds by calling out the unclean spirit and raising the child up. The action of Jesus makes the child well. The juxtaposition of the mountaintop moment (revelation, experience) with the healing connects the glory of Jesus with the power to render broken lives whole. One cannot contain such glory in a booth or set it apart from life. The point is to set such glory loose in the world and seek out people and places that call for healing, wholeness, and restored relationship. As the disciples continue to follow Jesus on the way to and through Jerusalem, the cost of this glory will become clear, as will the poignancy of the naive wish of Peter to remain on the mountain. In this transfiguration story, we as readers receive a foretaste of the full revelation of the identity of Jesus as Christ, and the hope for our transformation that such a revelation brings. 

Just before this passage, Jesus promised that this generation would not taste death until they saw the kingdom of God. We then have this story of the transfiguration of Jesus, which occurs at the end of the ministry of Jesus in Galilee. It has a connection with the baptism of Jesus, which occurred before the Galilean ministry of Jesus. The question of their seeing the kingdom of God before they die has a preliminary answer in this story. It confirms the story of the passion, the suffering and death of Jesus upon the cross, as the suffering and death of the Son of God. This journey, with all that it implies, is the journey of the Son. It reveals the way of God among us. Luke often mentions Jesus at prayer, a moment that reveals the purpose of the Father in the life of the Son. When the transfiguration of Jesus takes place, the story finds its basis in Exodus 34:29-35, where the face of Moses shined when he received the Ten Commandments on two tablets of stone. However, in this case, the shining of Jesus leads to a statement of who Jesus is, the Son, and that disciples of Jesus are to listen to him. As the story unfolds, they see Moses and Elijah. Scholars are not sure what they signify. They could represent the Law the Prophets. They could represent the distinctiveness and superiority of Jesus over the Law and the Prophets. In Jewish apocalyptic literature, they were persons who would re-appear at the end of time. Luke says he knows that about which they talked: the “departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” The disciples show some disorientation. Yet, Peter has some awareness of the holy place this mountain had become, and thus suggests three dwellings. However, the departure of Moses and Elijah, and the voice from heaven asserting who Jesus was and that they were to listen to him, are quite significant. Disciples are now followers of Jesus. 

I know that we often criticize Peter for saying that he wants to build three dwellings. We cannot stay on the mountain. Yes, I know that – but here is my fear. Too many of us have no mountaintop and do not properly cherish the moments with God that God graciously gives to us. Do you have a sacred place in your home? Where are the mountaintops in our lives? Where do earthbound folk like us stand a better-than-average chance of encountering the living God?

The disciples will know the full meaning of his glory before he has been crucified, buried, and risen. Jesus' mission as the Christ has a purpose, and that purpose is the full manifestation of the power of God's love in the endurance of human suffering and the defeat of the powers of sin and death through the cross and resurrection. Jesus and the disciples ascend the mountain and experience the power of the presence of God. In a sense, the mountain gives them a vision of the direction of the Son. The disciples receive a vision of the divinity of Jesus, as far as they could apprehend at this time. They saw that God dwelled with him in a unique way.[11] As mountains often do, they enable a broader vision of the surroundings. Yet, of course, they will not live in that broader vision. Like streams that begin in the mountains, they must descend to bring fruitfulness to the valley below.[12]

This poem by Robert Frost is a little long, but it is a dialogue between two people, and enlisting someone with dramatic talent to read one side of the conversation could make for an interesting introduction to the sermon. It tells the story of a chance encounter with an old-time New England farmer. Because it was published in 1915, it is now in the public domain.

 

          The Mountain, by Robert Frost

 

          The mountain held the town as in a shadow

          I saw so much before I slept there once:

          I noticed that I missed stars in the west,

          Where its black body cut into the sky.

          Near me it seemed: I felt it like a wall

          Behind which I was sheltered from a wind.

          And yet between the town and it I found,

          When I walked forth at dawn to see new things, 

          Were fields, a river, and beyond, more fields.

          The river at the time was fallen away,

          And made a widespread brawl on cobble-stones; 

          But the signs showed what it had done in spring;

          Good grass-land gullied out, and in the grass

          Ridges of sand, and driftwood stripped of bark.

          I crossed the river and swung round the mountain.

          And there I met a man who moved so slow

          With white-faced oxen in a heavy cart,

          It seemed no hand to stop him altogether.

 

          “What town is this?” I asked.

 

          “This? Lunenburg.”

 

          Then I was wrong: the town of my sojourn,

          Beyond the bridge, was not that of the mountain,

          But only felt at night its shadowy presence.

 

          “Where is your village? Very far from here?”

 

          “There is no village — only scattered farms.

          We were but sixty voters last election.

          We can’t in nature grow to many more:

          That thing takes all the room!” He moved his goad.

          The mountain stood there to be pointed at.

          Pasture ran up the side a little way,

          And then there was a wall of trees with trunks:

          After that only tops of trees, and cliffs

          Imperfectly concealed among the leaves.

          A dry ravine emerged from under boughs

          Into the pasture.

 

          “That looks like a path.

          Is that the way to reach the top from here? — 

          Not for this morning, but some other time:

          I must be getting back to breakfast now.”

 

          “I don’t advise your trying from this side.

          There is no proper path, but those that have

          Been up, I understand, have climbed from Ladd’s.

          That’s five miles back. You can’t mistake the place:

          They logged it there last winter some way up.

          I’d take you, but I’m bound the other way.”

 

          “You’ve never climbed it?”

 

          “I’ve been on the sides

          Deer-hunting and trout-fishing. There’s a brook

          That starts up on it somewhere — I’ve heard say

          Right on the top, tip-top — a curious thing.

          But what would interest you about the brook,

          It’s always cold in summer, warm in winter.

          One of the great sights going is to see

          It steam in winter like an ox’s breath,

          Until the bushes all along its banks

          Are inch-deep with the frosty spines and bristles — 

          You know the kind. Then let the sun shine on it!”

 

          “There ought to be a view around the world

          From such a mountain — if it isn’t wooded

          Clear to the top.” I saw through leafy screens

          Great granite terraces in sun and shadow,

          Shelves one could rest a knee on getting up — 

          With depths behind him sheer a hundred feet;

          Or turn and sit on and look out and down,

          With little ferns in crevices at his elbow.

 

          “As to that I can’t say. But there’s the spring,

          Right on the summit, almost like a fountain.

          That ought to be worth seeing.”

 

          “If it’s there.

          You never saw it?”

 

          “I guess there’s no doubt

          About its being there. I never saw it.

          It may not be right on the very top:

          It wouldn’t have to be a long way down

          To have some head of water from above,

          And a good distance down might not be noticed

          By anyone who’d come a long way up.

          One time I asked a fellow climbing it 

          To look and tell me later how it was.”

 

          “What did he say?”

 

          “He said there was a lake

          Somewhere in Ireland on a mountain top.”

 

          “But a lake’s different. What about the spring?”

 

          “He never got up high enough to see.

          That’s why I don’t advise your trying this side.

          He tried this side. I’ve always meant to go

          And look myself, but you know how it is:

          It doesn’t seem so much to climb a mountain

          You’ve worked around the foot of all your life.

          What would I do? Go in my overalls,

          With a big stick, the same as when the cows

          Haven’t come down to the bars at milking time?

          Or with a shotgun for a stray black bear?

          ’Twouldn’t seem real to climb for climbing it.”

 

          “I shouldn’t climb it if I didn’t want to — 

          Not for the sake of climbing. What’s its name?”

 

          “We call it Hor: I don’t know if that’s right.”            

 

          “Can one walk around it? Would it be too far?”

 

          “You can drive round and keep in Lunenburg,

          But it’s as much as ever you can do,

          The boundary lines keep in so close to it.

          Hor is the township, and the township’s Hor — 

          And a few houses sprinkled round the foot,

          Like boulders broken off the upper cliff,

          Rolled out a little farther than the rest.”

 

          “Warm in December, cold in June, you say?”

 

          “I don’t suppose the water’s changed at all.

          You and I know enough to know it’s warm

          Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm.

          But all the fun’s in how you say a thing.”

 

          “You’ve lived here all your life?”

 

          “Ever since Hor

          Was no bigger than a — ” What, I did not hear.

          He drew the oxen toward him with light touches

          Of his slim goad on nose and offside flank,

          Gave them their marching orders and was moving. 

What strikes me about this poem today, December 2023, is that I feel a bit like the farmer, standing near the mountain, hearing what others say about the experience of going up the mountain, but never ascending the mountain myself. In this case, the mountain could be a particular experience of God. It could also be pointing people to the possibility of a meaningful, flourishing, happy life, but never embracing that possibility for myself.

The voice from the cloud said we are to listen to Jesus. We are to follow him. If we have truly seen divinity in Jesus, then we have a decision to make. Too often today, even people within the church want to downplay the uniqueness of Jesus, seeing him as just one of many wise and compassionate spiritual leaders who have had a positive impact on the world. Sure, Jesus was kind, gentle, meek, and mild. He was a good man. Yet, such sentimental statements about Jesus miss a crucial point.  Look at the transfiguration. Examine it. Breathe it in, deeply. This event reveals that Jesus is the exalted Lord, the center of history, the goal of human history, and the one binds all of creation together. He is King of kings and Lord of lords. Once you have seen this side of Jesus, you must pick up your cross and follow, or get out of the way. He is a man on a mission. We need to decide to be part of it or set it aside.

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[1] Barth, Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 478.

[2] http://methoblog.com/2017/02/fulfilling-israels-story-for-the-sake-of-the-world-a-lectionary-reflection-on-matthew-171-9-2/

[3] Vincent Taylor, in his commentary, gives four hypotheses concerning this text.  One, God revealed the true form of Jesus by breaking through the limitations of his humanity in divine revelation to the three chosen disciples. This would affirm historicity of the account.  In addition, we might find further affirmation of historicity in the view that this was a visionary experience of the disciples.  Two is a visionary experience.  It may be a prelude to the resurrection.  Three is a legend or symbolic story.  It could be a resurrection story read back into the earthly life of Jesus.  However, this view is difficult because of the presence of Moses and Elijah.  Some scholars refer to it as a “misplaced” resurrection narrative. However, Mark as a theologian likely had good theological reasons for giving readers a hint of the risen Lord in the midst of the ministry of Jesus. Four, it may be pure symbolism.  In this case, v. 4-5, 6, 7-8 could be Jewish eschatology and v. 3 could be Hellenistic mystery religion.

[4] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume 3, 626. 

[5] Barth Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 460.

[6] (N. T. Wright, For All God’s Worth: True Worship and the Calling of the Church [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997], p. 7.)

[7] - George Gallup, Jr. Adventures in Immortality, quoted in Anthony C. Winkler, Jo Ray McCuen's, Rhetoric Made Plain, New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc., 1988. Our surveys have shown that nearly one-third of all Americans - or about 47 million people - have had what they call a religious or mystical experience. Of this group about 15 million report an otherworldly feeling of union with a divine being. They describe such things as special communications from deceased people or divine beings, visions of unusual lights, and out-of-body experiences. For instance, one said, "I was reading the Bible one night and couldn't sleep. A vision appeared to me. I was frozen and motionless. I saw an unusual light that wasn't there - but was. There was a great awareness of someone else being in that room with me."

 

 

[8] (Marcus J. Borg and N. T. Wright, The Meaning of Jesus, Two Visions [San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1999], pp. 61-62.)

[9] -Thomas Mann, from The Magic Mountain, quoted by Joanne Lynn and Joan Harrold in Handbook for Mortals: Guidance for People Facing Serious Illness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 16. Hold fast to time! Guard it, watch over it, every hour, every minute! Unregarded, it slips away, like a lizard, smooth, slippery, faithless. ... Hold every moment sacred. Give each clarity and meaning, each the weight of your awareness, each its true and due fulfillment. 

[10] David Bartlett tells of how Frederick Buechner was consumed by worry over his daughter's affliction with anorexia. Sick with worry, driving back to his home in Vermont, he pulled into a rest stop. There Buechner spied a license plate, one of those vanity license plates, although this time it was not really a vanity plate. The license plate read simply "trust."

            For Buechner it was a revelation. A great sense of calm swept over his life and he knew he could go on. Bartlett says you have to admire that New England Bank trust department officer, who in a pun on his title, put "trust" on his license plate. 

            You have to admire Buechner for taking that license plate and turning it into a revelation from God for his life.

[11] --Saint Gregory Palamas (1296-1359 A.D.), Archbishop of Thessalonica, "Sermon on the transfiguration," http://oca.org/fs/sermons/sermon-on-the-transfiguration. Retrieved September 10, 2014. "What does it mean to say: He was transfigured?" asks the Golden-Mouthed Theologian (Chrysostomos). He answers this by saying: "It revealed something of his divinity to them, as much and insofar as they were able to apprehend it, and it showed the indwelling of God within him." 

[12]  --Henry Drummond, Scottish theologian. God does not make the mountains in order to be inhabited. God does not make the mountaintops for us to live on the mountaintops. It is not God's desire that we live on the mountaintops. We only ascend to the heights to catch a broader vision of the earthly surroundings below. But we don't live there. We don't tarry there. The streams begin in the uplands, but these streams descend quickly to gladden the valleys below.

II Peter 1:16-21

II Peter 1:16-21 (NRSV)

¹⁶ For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. ¹⁷ For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” ¹⁸ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.

¹⁹ So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. ²⁰ First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, ²¹ because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.

II Peter 1:16-21 deals with the reliability of the apostolic witness.

II Peter 1:16-18 has the theme of the transfiguration of Jesus guaranteeing the return of Jesus. ¹⁶ For we did not follow cleverly devised myths (like Gnostics) when we made known to you the power and (second) coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, It seems doubts about last events have arisen. But we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. The witness countering others who devise myths. ¹⁷ For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” ¹⁸ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain. He connects the transfiguration with the events with Mount Sinai.

The author assumes detailed knowledge of the transfiguration story. The author also assumes that the reality of the transfiguration story lends credibility to the notion of the second coming. The return of Christ has its root in this historical event. The denial of the second coming is an attack on the majesty and glory the Father gave to Jesus. It seems strange that he does not point to the resurrection here, rather than viewing the Transfiguration as more important.[1] He also finds it noteworthy the prophetic word through Moses and Elijah acquired genuine relevance for those who had their origin in the appearance of Jesus. The appearance of Jesus found its confirmation in the character of a prophetic word pointing to the future and became an indispensable light on their path. The disciples did not come down the mountain as innovators, but in the company with the ancient witnesses, accredited by the fulfillment of the long-prepared history of the covenant. In that company, they moved afresh to meet the coming Lord. Thus, to many today, the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ is a fable, but for this author, the eyewitness account saves it from being such.[2]

God is in the ordinary relationships and experiences of life. Often, God is there more than we know.

Yet, we all need special showings of grace. They rise up like majestic mountains. They become pools of refreshing spring water. Such experiences can change our view of life. They can change the way we live our lives. We might think of them as peak experiences, as mountaintop experiences, or even as conversion and new birth. Such experiences can change the way we read the bible. They can change the way we experience Christian fellowship. They can change the way we view our life in the world. We often do not have them because we do not take the time from the busy course of our lives to stop, to look, and to listen. If we do, we may find that we see our relationship Jesus anew. We may well recognize that the most important decision we make in our lives is what we will do with Jesus, and what we allow Jesus to do with us. What matters is that we live our daily lives in fellowship with Jesus. When we have heard his voice and responded to his call, we can then place our hand in his, and walk with him in the journey of life. We are not alone.

I want to commend the experience at the top of the mountain that changes our lives. Sometimes, we need to disengage from our regular, daily involvement in life. We active persons may find it hard to stop, look, and listen. We may find it difficult to quit doing, and just stand there. Most of our lives are quite common and ordinary. In fact, how many of us remember what happened yesterday, last week, or even last year. Many of our days blur together in a sameness that can even become boring to us. I want to challenge us to refuse to become used to the ordinary. You see, I suspect that most of us can also look back to experiences we have had that stand out, almost like a mountain, that have changed our lives. I want us to look at such mountains in our lives today. These experiences can alter our perspective on life. If they take hold, they can change the way we live. It may be that the experience on the mountaintop will change your life, not just for the moment, but also for the rest of your life.  “We ourselves heard this voice from heaven.”  Are we ready to hear that voice?

Now, why should we value such mountaintop experiences in our lives?

First, we need genuinely Life-changing experiences. Is that not what conversion is to be? Our lives become far more about Jesus, and therefore, we look at ourselves and at world differently. Life is no longer simply about what we want, but about what Christ wants. When you have had an experience that genuinely changes your life, it is so difficult to put into words. It is as if we encounter a wall in our language; we reach the limits of what words can convey. Even when we listen to someone else sharing a life-changing experience, all we can do is listen and be grateful. 

I am not one whom an event will usually have that impact. Maybe it is the German in me. Maybe it is just the fact of being from Minnesota. When I look back upon some of the mountain tops in my life, what I find are clusters of experiences and relationships. My mother making sure that her five children were in church and youth group was a mountain top in my life. That decision by her became an invitation to place Christ at the center of my life. The relationship with several Christian professors became part of another mountaintop in my college and Seminary life. 

In my first appointment as a United Methodist Church pastor, I struggled with whether God wanted me to continue as pastor. I can point to a couple events that were significant to me. When I attended my first Walk to Emmaus, God addressed me in a way that made me at peace. When I was at Vincennes Community UMC, I attended a promise keeper convention for pastors in Atlanta. The event brought together many denominations. It brought 42,000 pastors together. I became acquainted with the music of Michael Caird. I heard Max Lucado speak of the need to tear down walls between Roman Catholic and Protestant, a courageous talk in that setting. Attempting to heal the division of the races, they invited black pastors to come forward and receive the love and prayers of the pastors gathered. The movie, Passion of the Christ was powerful for me, portraying for me the extent to which love can go to bring salvation. 

Second, instead of being frustrated with others, Be the revival . . . Be the church. One of the speakers at the pastor’s convention said, “I do not want to wait for revival.  I want to be the revival that is coming.  I do not want to go to church.  I want to be the church.” Many church buildings have a beauty to them. People who attend justly feel some pride. However, if after people come to the building, people do not meet God personally, it will have been for nothing. Many congregations are places where people can form good friendships. As lonely as many people are, congregations provide an important place for people to find others to join them in the journey of life. However, if after the fellowship and friendship, people do not meet God, what good was it all? Many congregations have praiseworthy worship. However, if people do not meet God, it has all been for nothing.

I want to encourage you to not be afraid of going to the mountain with Jesus. When these disciples did so, they heard God’s voice.  It was not wonderful music or great preaching.  It was God.  There can be a lasting value to such experiences. The Bible often has people meeting God on the mountain. Among the Hebrew people, the mountain was where Abraham received a new revelation of what God was about when he was with his son, Isaac.  Moses went to the mountain and came down with the Ten Commandments.  Elijah went there and heard the “still, small voice” of God.  Now, the disciples go to the mountain with Jesus, and they hear the voice of God.  These were not ordinary experiences.  They stood out in bold relief.

Third, I offer one caution concerning the mountain. The Christian tradition is right. We cannot live on the mountain. We will need to live our lives day to day. God is also in the daily, ordinary experiences of life. 

Charles Spurgeon has a wonderful sermon on this passage.  In his translation, the text concludes in v. 8 with the statement that they saw no one, “save Jesus only.”  The wonderful experience the disciples had on that mountain would be worthless if it did not lead to daily fellowship with “Jesus only,” a fellowship that ought to mark the Christian life. They went up the mountain with Jesus only.  They went back down the mountain with Jesus only.  Jesus is all they needed.  He speculates that there were four options in this text.  First, that they would see only themselves.  In that case, they would have gone down the mountain to face the world with no divine companionship.  Second, they might see Moses only. Too many Christians do so, seeing the Christian life as nothing but law and duty. The third alternative that might have happened to the disciples, they might have seen Elijah only. In such a case, with such a leader, they would have gone down from the mount, they would have commanded the fire to come down and consume the Pharisees.  However, all this power for vengeance would have been a poor exchange for the gracious presence of Jesus, the Friend of sinners. "They saw no man, save Jesus only."  When our Christianity is most vital, it is most full of Christ. Moreover, when it is most practical, it always gets nearest to Jesus.^[3]

It can be easy to get frustrated with our own growth, or with the growth of others, or with the growth of the church.  In Zorba the Greek, (120-121) the author tells of one morning discovering a cocoon in the bark of a tree, just as a butterfly was making a hole in its case and preparing to come out.  He waited a while, but it was too long appearing, and he was impatient.  He bent over it and breathed on it to warm it.  He warmed it as quickly as he could and the miracle began to happen before his eyes, faster than life.  The case opened; the butterfly started slowly crawling out.  Imagine his horror when he saw how its wings were folded back and crumpled; the wretched butterfly tried with its whole trembling body to unfold them.  Bending over it, he tried to help it with his breath.  In vain.  It needed to hatch out patiently and the unfolding of the wings should be a gradual process in the sun.  Now it was too late.  His breath had forced the butterfly to appear, all crumpled, before its time.  It struggled desperately A few seconds later, it died in the palm of his hand.  Are we getting frustrated because we do not mature quite fast enough?  Do we want our children to grow up quicker?  Do we want changes in our spouse?  Do we want the church to move along quicker?  

            If such experiences on the mountain are real, they will go with us throughout life.  Ernest Hemingway once wrote a book about his early days as a writer in Paris.  He titled the book, A Moveable Feast. If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast. I do not know about Paris.  Yet, I do know what he means.  There are experiences that can become “a moveable feast.”  It may have been to the ocean, to the mountains, at a retreat, or visiting another country.  We carry that experience around with us.

The presence of God is a moveable feast.  When the reality of God comes home, when we have had that mountaintop experience, we do not leave God behind.  God goes with us.  In fact, God leads the way.  Such transforming experiences in our lives are exactly what God wants to embed in our hearts and lives.

 

II Peter 1:19-21 has the theme of protecting believers from false teaching through an inspired text, the Bible. The protection against false teaching involves inspired reading of the text coming from the Holy Spirit as well as Christian community. The transfiguration is a glimpse of the fulfillment of biblical prophecy. They need to reject the arbitrary expositions as found in apocalyptic in favor of qualified interpreters. the prophecies themselves were not just the product of private individuals but prompted by the Holy Spirit.  The text suggests that just as God has inspired scriptures, so the reading of scripture is under the guidance of the Spirit and theapostolic tradition.

¹⁹ So we have the prophetic message (λόγον)[4] more fully confirmed. The transfiguration is a glimpse of the fulfillment of scriptural prophecy. The matter of the Word seems complicated by the fact that it comes in the form of the human word of prophets and apostles. The divine Word meets us in the thick of the fog of our own intellectual life, taking on the same form as our ideas, thoughts, and convictions. Yet, the Word is a light that shines in a dark place, but it needs no explanation because it simply shines.[5] You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. ²⁰ First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation. They need to reject the arbitrary expositions found in apocalyptic in favor of qualified interpreters. ²¹ Because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God. The prophecies themselves were not just the product of private individuals but prompted by the Holy Spirit. The text suggests that just as scriptures are inspired, so the reading of scripture is under the guidance of the spirit and the apostolic tradition. We allow scripture to interpret itself. We allow it to control our exposition. We need to note the role of the Holy Spirit, where this Spirit is almost the author. The Holy Spirit and the Bible have a relation in which the whole reality of the unity between finds a safeguard in a proper view of inspiration. The unity is a free act of the grace of God, and therefor for us its content is always a promise. Barth goes as far as to say that his view of inspiration is one the reader can judge considering this passage, combined with II Timothy 3:16-17.[6]

If we go into the second chapter, the author makes it clear that a concern is for false teaching that has arisen. The author believes that Scripture properly read can preserve the community of followers of Jesus from such teaching. We find a similar concern in Romans 16:17-20 for false teaching that causes dissension within the church. Another primary passage in this regard is II Timothy 3:16-17, where God inspires all scripture, making it useful for teaching, reproof, correction, training in righteousness, thereby equipping the people of God for every excellent work.

Scripture holds a special place for us today because God breathed life into it, and therefore, it becomes life to us, if we are open to receive it. Scripture is “useful” in that it teaches us positive matters we are to believe, as well as reprove and correct our belief and practice. It trains us in righteousness, so that we who belong to God may become proficient for good works. 

Of course, we are not to read scripture in a casuistic way, as if it were simply a book of church law. The Pharisees tried that approach. Paul rarely appealed to a line of the Old Testament law, but he did appeal to Jesus, most famously in Philippians 2:5. Jesus provides an example of reading scripture through his elevation of the commandment to love God with heart, mind, soul, and strength, and to love the neighbor as oneself. Thus, while the Old Testament and Judaism yet today take the purity and sacrificial laws seriously, the New Testament took the purity laws, the regulations concerning clean and unclean foods, and the entire festival and sacrificial system, and interpreted them as finding their fulfillment in an unexpected way in the suffering servant, Jesus of Nazareth. Another obvious example is that to conclude Jesus was the promised Jewish Messiah required a new reading of the Old Testament. Here are some other examples. Jesus and Paul redefined the people of God, recognizing the overwhelming power of the Roman Empire, and therefore did not lead others to agitate in a military way against the Empire. Jesus encouraged a form of strategic pacifism in this regard. We have Romans 13 as an example of the view of Paul toward the Empire. Even when the Empire became beastly, as we see in the Book of Revelation, the author does not recommend a futile military battle between first century Christians and the Empire. The church in the first century took the practical approach they could not effect large political changes. Yet, recognizing that the people of God must reside within the Empire, both Jesus and Paul commented on how the people of God were to act. Another example is that we have his instructions in the Sermon on the Mount, including reflections on marriage. Matthew 5 is particularly instructive, in that Jesus could say, “You have heard that it was said … but I say to you.” Thus, when Jesus says love your enemies, it should make the Christian look at certain Psalms and certain part of the Old Testament in a different way than the writer intended. With Paul, we have what scholars call the household rules, such as we find in Colossians and Ephesians, his statements on marriage and divorce in I Corinthians 7, his elevation of love in I Corinthians 13, his ethical directions in Romans 12-15, and his various lists of virtue and vice, notably in Galatians 5. From the Christian view, then, the reader of the Bible has no obligation to treat every word as if each word had the same value, for we read in light of Jesus and the New Testament. For those of us who value the Bible, it requires some discipline to learn to read the Old Testament in such a way that it finds genuine fulfillment considering the further revelation Christians believe they have in Jesus Christ.

All of this is simply way of recognizing that the Word of God comes to us today in human words and cultural settings. It means every word of the Bible, understood in its context, may require interpretation from further revelation. Every word does not carry the same weight. It requires a careful reading, a discerning reading, and a humble reading. When we read things we do not like in the Bible, our human inclination is to say the Bible is wrong. However, it just might be that is where God is speaking to us in a challenging way. We might need to listen even more carefully. 

Pastors are teachers of the Word. I am not much for developing theories of the inspiration and authority of the Bible. Such discussions typically lead the church down a dead end. More importantly, they can lead to quite unchristian behavior. Of course, the words of the Bible are to lead us to the Word, that is, Jesus Christ. We rightly give priority to the Scripture. II Peter and II Timothy give me great pause to consider that the responsibility of the pastor is to go somewhere with the Word. Every Sunday, the pastor is to help people take that journey as well. Every service of worship is an attempt to go somewhere with the Word, recognizing that the Word is not simply open to my private interpretation, but rather, open to the interpretation through a community. The community began in the around 2000 years of the period covered by Scripture itself. It continues in the 2000 years since the formation of the canon of the New Testament. We go somewhere with the Word in order to receive teaching, reproof, correction, and training, all for the purpose of leading to a good life. The Bible holds a privileged place in the communication of the church. I do not go rummaging around in other texts, as much as I may value them. I learn much from psychology, sociology, philosophy, and theology. I learn much from the newspaper. The music, prayers, and message are accountable to the Bible. I value my reading of other religious texts. However, as Bishop Willimon has said somewhere, the Christian and the Buddhist differ largely because we have listened to different stories, differing visions of the world. Of course, some Christians and some Buddhists have not listened to their core stories very well. 

Pastors will often read authors who point to a quite different approach to the text than I am suggesting here. Some authors begin with the view that the Bible is violent, narrow, primitive, incomprehensible, disordered, and even weird. Dare I say it? So are you, as a reader of the text. As post-modern people, we adopt a superior attitude toward the Bible. We call the Bible sexist and patriarchal, as if we are not. We think we have risen above the Bible. We think the culture of the Bible conditions it so much that it has nothing to say to us. We do not see how our culture has conditioned us, especially as we read the Bible. Yes, part of my job as a preacher and teacher of the Bible is to make the Bible comprehensible to us as post-modern people. However, an even more important task is to help us be worthy listeners of the Word. 

The Bible is about God. Most of us are scrambling around for a few crumbs that we can summarize on a bumper sticker. The Bible is about large matters, as we often hear today, things that matter most. We often come to the Bible thinking of ourselves. The Bible is first about God, and secondarily a disclosure that concerns us. 

The Bible is about us. The Bible is messy, just like our lives. In fact, the Bible keeps on going with no conclusion. Like some episodes on television, “to be continued” is at the end of every story. In fact, one reason many of us love the Bible, and have spent much of our lives studying it and teaching it, is that we have a hunch that the Bible is our story as well. It keeps disclosing to us deeper levels of our lives that need the healing, liberating, and guiding presence of God.

Having said all of this about the Bible, the reader of the Bible knows that the primary issue is not a defense of the Bible, but finding ways of letting the Bible live in our lives in ways that challenge us as well as those around us. The Word trains us in righteousness and good works. 

The great missionary doctor, Albert Schweitzer, won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1953, making him world-famous. Soon after winning the prize, Dr. Schweitzer was visiting Chicago. A whole contingent of reporters and politicians had gathered at the train station to meet him. As Dr. Schweitzer stepped off the train -- 6 feet 4 inches in height, bushy hair, large moustache, decked out in his trademark white suit -- news cameras flashed, and city officials lined up to be photographed beside the renowned humanitarian. Just then, the doctor seemed to see something far off that attracted his attention. He asked the reporters if they would excuse him for a moment. Dr. Schweitzer walked right through the crowd, which parted to make room for him, until he reached an elderly African-American woman who was struggling under the weight of two large suitcases. Smiling, he picked the bags up in his big hands, and escorted her to the steps of her bus. After helping her aboard, he wished her a safe journey. As all this was going on, the doctor's entourage had tagged along behind him. Turning around and seeing them, he said simply: "Sorry to have kept you waiting." A member of the reception committee turned and said to one of the reporters: "That's the first time I ever saw a sermon walking."

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[1] Barth Church Dogmatics III.2 [47.1] 478.

[2] Barth Church Dogmaitcs III.2 [47.1] 494.

[3] Charles Spurgeon.

[4] Reicke believes the prophetic word is that which comes in the congregation, not at prophets.  

[5] Barth Church Dogmatics I.2 [21.2] 716.

[6] Barth Church Dogmatics I.2 [19.2]  504-17.