A Beautiful View of Jesus, Matthew 17:1-9 (Sunday Before Lent, The Transfiguration, Year A)

Matthew 17:1-9

A year into marriage – and it will be our silver wedding anniversary this year – my wife Debbie and I decided we fancied a walking holiday in the Snowdonia region of Wales. We booked a room in a B & B near the village of Beddgelert, and looked forward to joining the hordes walking up Mount Snowdon.

View from the Summit: Mount Snowdon by James E Petts on Flickr. CC 2.0.

It didn’t work out like that. Not long before going, we discovered Debbie was expecting our first child. Our vigorous walking holiday became a sedate one. We never got up Mount Snowdon.

Jesus, however, went up mountains quite regularly during his ministry. And every time Matthew’s Gospel records him doing so, something significant – revelatory, even – happens. In the last couple of weeks, you may have had readings from the Sermon on the Mount – his great description of what repentant living in the kingdom of God looks like. At the very end of Matthew after the Resurrection, Jesus sends his disciples up a mountain in Galilee, where he gives the Great Commission to disciple the whole world.

And here he is in today’s reading, going up a mountain again. We traditionally refer to the ‘Mount of Transfiguration.’ We expect a significant revelation of Jesus. And boy, do we get that. What is revealed about Jesus at the Mount of Transfiguration?

Here are four things the Transfiguration shows us about Jesus[1]:

Firstly, the glory of Jesus:

Jesus meets Moses and Elijah. Both of them had history of profound spiritual experiences on mountains. Moses received the Ten Commandments and his face glowed with the glory of God. Elijah saw God give him a mighty victory over the pagan prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel.

But here, only Jesus is transfigured. Moses isn’t. Nor is Elijah. However great they were in Israel’s history, they are not equal with Jesus. Only he shows the dazzling glory of God on his face and his clothes.

The message is clear. Jesus is supreme to all other religious leaders and heroes. He is not just another teacher. Nor is he merely a prophet, as Islam would say. He is so much more. He is Lord.

The natural consequence of this is that Jesus is as worthy of worship as the Father. He manifests the very glory of God.

Peter gets it all wrong. Perhaps he is tongue-tied in the presence of surpassing greatness, a bit like any of us would be when we meet someone famous and all our plans to ask intelligent questions disappear as our legs go to jelly and so do our brains. He says the daftest thing when he wants to build three shelters, one for Moses, one for Elijah, and one for Jesus. Yet again, he has missed the point.

It’s not enough to like Jesus or even admire him. The Transfiguration tells us that he is worthy of our worship – not merely an hour of our time on a Sunday, but the allegiance of our lives.

This morning, we take Holy Communion together. In our tradition, we call that a ‘sacrament.’ Now ‘sacrament’ is an interesting word. It is not a word from Scripture. Rather, it derives from a Latin word ‘sacramentum’, which was the oath of allegiance that a Roman soldier made to the Emperor. May our initial response to the glory of Jesus this morning be in renewing our sacramentum, our oath of allegiance to him, at the Lord’s Table.

Secondly, the words of Jesus:

Just to underline what Peter should have learned from only Jesus being transfigured, the divine voice from the bright cloud says,

‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!’ (Verse 5)

As good Jews, Peter, James, and John had it imprinted on their memory that when Moses went up Mount Sinai he received the Law of God. Now, as they are up this other mountain, they learn that Jesus is not simply the recipient of God’s words, he is the giver of them. Jesus is, and he gives, the Word of God.

This is the logical consequence of the first point. If the glory of Jesus tells us about his supremacy and we offer our worship and allegiance, then that involves heeding what he says. It is not for us to treat the teaching of Jesus as merely interesting or optional: what he says, goes. It is the Word of God.

Some of us like to sit in judgment on what we read in the Scriptures – like when Field Marshal Montgomery read the Old Testament lesson at Matins one morning and began, ‘And the Lord said unto Moses – and in my opinion quite rightly’! Others of us like to analyse the words and enjoy coming up with clever theories or explanations, but then do nothing. That won’t do either.

Of course, we will struggle with some of the difficult sayings of Jesus. We may need to understand certain nuances, or their historical background to make sense of them. But in the end, what we need to embrace as Christians is that Jesus and the Scriptures are for life, not just Sundays. One of the things coming in our forthcoming circuit-wide Lent preaching series will be a challenge to study and meditate on the Scriptures more. This would be a good time to embrace that discipline.

Thirdly, the compassion of Jesus:

It would be easy after what we have just been thinking about to assume that everything Jesus says and requires of us is challenging and maybe severe. But following on immediately from the words, ‘Listen to him,’ Jesus does in fact speak to Peter, James, and John. Hear verses 6 to 8 again:

6 When the disciples heard this, they fell face down to the ground, terrified. 7 But Jesus came and touched them. ‘Get up,’ he said. ‘Don’t be afraid.’ 8 When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus.

Get up. Don’t be afraid. Even after the overwhelming glory that comes upon Jesus. Even after the summons to listen to him. Who is this Jesus whose glory tells of his supremacy, and whose Father tells us he is and he speaks the Word of God? Is he some severe authoritarian?

No. The Jesus who is Lord is full of love, mercy, and compassion. He reaches out in kindness to his people. He is the giver of dignity to those who are bowed down. Like the Psalmist says of the Lord in Psalm 3:3,

You are the One who lifts my head high.

This is how Jesus reigns. He was God’s agent in creation, where we were made in God’s image. However much we have marred that image by our sin, he is now remaking us in the divine image. He is making us more like him. And he does that with love and care for each of us.

If we are worried about giving our allegiance to Jesus and following his Word, here is what we need to remember about him. His yoke is easy and his burden is light[2] and we find our rest in him.

This is who we are called to follow. This is who is speaking to us. Whatever has laid us low, be they fears about God or the wounds of life, he invites us to get up and leave our fears with him. We are safe in his divine presence.

Fourthly and finally, the suffering of Jesus:

9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus instructed them, ‘Don’t tell anyone what you have seen, until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

For all the glory of Jesus, for all his authority as the Word of God, and for all his love, his next destination is Jerusalem and the Cross.

Suddenly, it feels like everything has changed. We have gone from the retina-searing brilliance of the Transfiguration to three hours of darkness on a hill.

But maybe nothing has changed. Maybe the Cross will reveal the same truths about Jesus, just in startlingly different ways. For though the world may think the Cross will be his shame, it will be his glory. The world may think he is condemned at the Cross and in one sense he is, but it will also be his enthronement.

And in the silence of God at Calvary, Jesus himself will speak his word. Seven last words from the Cross. Still, the Word of God will go out into the world, even from One suffering a cruel death. He will say, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing,’ and that word will be fulfilled as forgiveness pours out with his blood.

And do we see there the Jesus who in love lifts people up? Why, yes we do. For one thing, the forgiveness we have just spoken about does that. For another, he will lift up the penitent thief next to him by assuring him, ‘I tell you today, you will be with me in Paradise.’ Moreover, he lifts up both his mother and the Belovèd Disciple as he addresses them from the Cross: ‘Mother, here is your son. Son, here is your mother.’

Nowhere more do we see Jesus lifting people up and showing love than at Golgotha. As the Welsh Revival hymn puts it,

Here is love, vast as the ocean,
lovingkindness as the flood,
when the Prince of life, our ransom,
shed for us his precious blood.
Who his love will not remember?
Who can cease to sing his praise?
He can never be forgotten
throughout heaven’s eternal days.
[3]

Conclusion

We began by talking about mountains. Sometimes, when you go up a mountain you get to see the most magnificent view. I recall seeing the powerful sight of the snow and the ski slopes when I went up the Jungfrau in Switzerland.

Here, as we have ascended the Mount of Transfiguration, I hope we gained the beautiful view of Jesus. We have taken in his majestic glory, his identity as the Word of God, and his compassionate love. Then we have seen that all of these will be recapitulated at the Cross.

I’ll finish not with the words of an old hymn but of a modern worship song, because they seem to capture these thoughts:

You are beautiful beyond description
Too marvelous for words
Too wonderful for comprehension
Like nothing ever seen or heard
Who can grasp Your infinite wisdom?
Who can fathom the depth of Your love?
You are beautiful beyond description
Majesty, enthroned above
[4]


[1] These are influenced by Craig Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, pp 436-41.

[2] Matthew 11:30

[3] William Rees (1802-83); translated by William Edwards (1848-1929).

[4] ‘I Stand In Awe’, Music and words by Mark Altrogge. © 1986 Sovereign Grace Praise/BMI (adm. by Integrity Music). Sovereign Grace Music, a division of Sovereign Grace Churches. All rights reserved. CCLI: #23914.

Prepared For Mission, Luke 5:1-11 (Ordinary 5 Year C)

Luke 5:1-11

Before I was a minister and before I studied Theology, I worked in Social Security. It was, as I have sometimes said, one way of seeing life. I can recall a number of stories from those days which are, shall we say, a little too colourful for the delicate ears of some Christian congregations -notwithstanding other barriers such as the Official Secrets Act.

But suffice to say that in that work I encountered people with chaotic lives, in desperate circumstances, as well as the occasional chancer. I also represented colleagues to their bosses when their personal lives were affecting their work.

Just from that general outline I am sure you can guess that I had some formative experiences that were useful preparation for when I became a minister, even though I had no sense of such a call at the time.

Our story from Luke today is one where Jesus tells Simon that his experience as a business partner in a fishing co-operative will stand him in good stead for a life as a disciple and an apostle.

There is a sermon to be preached on this passage about just how much God values our everyday work, but I will save that for another time. For today, I want to look at the aspects here that prepared Simon for what was to come. Even though we are not fishermen (although I don’t know if anyone has angling as a hobby!) there are elements of Simon’s story that speak to us as well.

Firstly, obedience:

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch.’

Simon answered, ‘Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets.’

Simon, James, and John are experienced fishermen. They know what they are doing. That they are washing their nets after a night-time fishing trip tells us exactly what kind of nets they are using. They were called ‘trammel nets’. They were made of linen, were visible to fish in daylight hours and hence why they went fishing at night, and they would be cleaned the next morning[1]. All this is known from historians of the day and confirms that they were conducting their trade according to the best knowledge and practices known then.

But here comes this crazy carpenter – what does he know about fishing? – and he gives them instructions which make no sense to these experienced professionals. It’s daylight, and the fish will see the nets. No way will any fish be caught.

‘But because you say so, I will let down the nets,’ says Simon. Because this is more than a crazy carpenter. This is Jesus, the Expected One, the Hoped-For One, the Messiah himself. And so, even though their friends in other fishing co-operatives based on the lake will think they are mad, they set sail again. They head for the deep water. They let down their nets. And – oh my.

The call of the Christian disciple is to follow Jesus and do what he tells us, even when it seems scarcely credible. He sends us out into deep water, too – into situations that are deeper than we have ever encountered before, circumstances we would resist embracing because they seem too fraught with danger.

It’s something of a threat to our desire for a quiet, comfortable life, isn’t it? But why does it surprise us? Isn’t so much of what Jesus calls us to do the very opposite of conventional expectations? We are to forgive, not hate. We are to give, not take. It’s utterly consistent for Jesus to call us to do unexpected things in his service.

Perhaps what we need to do is to ask him to give us a dream for our lives that is so big and so deep that it can only be fulfilled by relying on him.

Sometimes we hear talk about having ‘smart goals’, where the letters of the word ‘smart’ stand for specific, measurable, achievable, realistic, and targeted. But in the light of this, I want to ask, ‘Achievable by whom? By us? Or by Jesus?’ Because the latter are the goals that fix our Christian obedience.

Secondly, fellowship:

In verse 7, the people working alongside Simon in the boat are called his ‘partners.’ It’s a word that denotes business partners, which makes sense.

But by verse 9, they are no longer ‘partners’ but ‘companions’. The Greek word has changed, and while this word could denote the members of a fishing co-operative, it ‘is capable of much wider nuances’[2] and is related to the word ‘koinonia’, which is often translated with that glorious Christian word ‘fellowship.’ In the work of catching the abundant haul of fish, partners become a fellowship.

And fellowship is central to the life of Christian discipleship. We do not follow Jesus alone, but together in a body. We cannot do it alone. We need the power of the Holy Spirit, and the encouragement of our brothers and sisters.

But this word ‘fellowship’ is open to much misunderstanding, because we have seriously devalued its meaning. To listen to the way some churches conceive of fellowship, you would think it was little more than talking together. ‘Join us after the service for fellowship over tea and coffee.’ It is so much deeper than that.

Strictly, the word means, ‘what we have in common.’ Luke shows us what that meant for the early church in the first chapters of his second volume, the book we call The Acts of the Apostles. The first believers are sharing in fellowship by the end of chapter two. We find that it means they shared their very lives together, including their possessions. They had Jesus Christ in common, and they shared all they were and all they had in common, too.

When we think of the partners becoming a fellowship in Luke 5, it is reminiscent of Paul writing to the Christians in Philippi and giving thanks for their ‘fellowship in the Gospel.’ In other words, they had shared together in the hard work of the Gospel, just as Simon, James, and John, along with their partners, had shared together in the hard work of hauling those full nets into the boats.

The work of the Gospel can be tough, but Jesus has given us each other to do that work in common, supporting and helping one another. We do not need to be alone in the work. Indeed, we should not be alone. We were not designed that way. God always intended that we support our brothers and our sisters in all the ways we share the Gospel in the world. We may be on the frontline with them. We may be supporting them with prayer and financial giving. And together, we haul in the heavy nets.

I think it would be helpful if each one of us asked, with whom am I in fellowship in the Gospel? Who do I know who can support me as I bear witness to Jesus in the world with my words, my deeds, and my character?

One strategy would be for three of you to gather together as a ‘prayer triplet’, regularly praying each other’s spheres of influence. Such a group would meet regularly, review how everybody is getting on, hold one another to account, and be a source of encouragement. This is real fellowship: it’s so much more than chatting over tea and coffee!

Thirdly, grace:

Simon witnesses the amazing catch of fish and is overcome with the sense that this must be a demonstration of God’s holy power. There seems no other explanation for him being astonished to the point of him saying to Jesus, ‘Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!’ (verse 8) In the presence of such holiness, he knows himself unworthy.

But of course, Jesus will not have that. For as well as holiness, he has grace. Don’t go away, Simon, come closer. I have a commission for you: ‘Don’t be afraid; from now on you will fish for people.’ (verse 10)

And that gracious invitation and call leads Simon, James, and John to leave behind their business (just as it is thriving!) and everything else to follow Jesus (verse 11).

Which of us has not echoed the words of Simon, ‘Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinner’? It may be that we witnessed the awesomeness of God’s power in some way. It may be that we are only too aware of our sins and failures: can he really forgive us again? And if he does, surely there is no way he can use me? Or it may just be a sense of our utter inadequacy in the face of Jesus’ blazing purity and beauty of character. We are unworthy. We are not heroes of the faith. What would God want with us?

And yet, and yet. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ says Jesus, ‘I still have work for you to do.’

There is a legend told of Jesus returning to heaven at the Ascension and being welcomed by the angels, who congratulate him on all he has achieved.

Then one angel says, ‘But Lord, what is the next stage of your great plan of salvation?’

Jesus replies, ‘I have left it in the hands of a small group of my followers.’

‘But Master,’ counters the angel, ‘what will you do if they mess things up? What will your plan be then?’

‘I have no other plan,’ says Jesus.

And that’s the plan. His plan is us – sinners that we are.

So if spiritually we are down in the gutter right now, it’s time to hear the good news that Jesus is still calling us. He still has work for us to do in building for his kingdom. He still has people for us to reach with his love. We may be the ideal people to speak and show his love to certain folk.

Let us allow Jesus to wipe us clean with his grace so that we can embrace again his call on our lives. And let’s set out in fresh obedience to him that we may see him do new wonders in our day. And let us do it not as lone rangers but in fellowship with others.


[1] Joel B Green, The Gospel of Luke (NICNT), p232.

[2] Op. cit., p234 n27.

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