Glory Uncovered

Glory Revealed. Glory Understood. Glory Lived.

2.27.22 [Luke 9:28-36] River of Life (The Transfiguration of our Lord)

Everybody calls it “their big day” but even for the most conscientious and careful bride and groom, the wedding day can turn into quite the production. Getting ready, getting hitched, and then getting to know all of what you married into—all in one day—can be a whirlwind. Your wedding day is supposed to be fun, memorable, and wonderful—and it should be. Yet, typically it is anything but peaceful. And even when “their big day” goes off without a hitch, it’s hard for a bride and a groom to get any quality time together during their nuptials.

That’s probably at least part of the reason why it has become commonplace for newly married couples to go on a honeymoon together. Away from family and friends and away from familiar places, they get to know each other better. Spending a few days, maybe a week or more together is great. If it goes well, typically, the couple would prefer to not come back to real life. You can understand that, right?

Perhaps Peter has some similar feelings in Luke chapter 9. Luke 9:1-6 Peter and the other disciples go out on a mission for Jesus. They proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God and heal people. Then they come back to report to Jesus and he wants to get away with his disciples for a little while. But the crowds know about Jesus—his teaching and his healing—and so they follow him, too. And Jesus wasn’t quick to turn away crowds that wanted to learn more about the kingdom of God. (Lk. 9:10-17) So he taught them, and then miraculously fed 5,000 men plus women and children. And it was great, but the crowds always seemed to be there.

Jesus acknowledged that this wasn’t good for his disciples, either. So he took the 12 off privately to pray and to teach them. He asked his disciples about those crowds. (Lk. 9:18) Who do the crowds say I am? The disciples replied: (Lk. 9:19) Some say John the Baptist. Others, Elijah, or an Old Testament prophet.

Ok, but (Lk. 9:20) what about you, my disciples? Who do you say I am? Peter pipes up: (Mt. 16:16) You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Peter was right. Or at least his words were right. But God wanted him to understand what his confession really entailed. So eight days after this whole who do you say I am? conversation, Jesus took Peter and the Zebedee boys up on this mountain. And as Jesus (Lk. 9:29) was praying, his divine nature was no longer hidden from their eyes.

(Lk. 9:29) The appearance of his face changed. His clothes, too. (Lk. 9:29) They were like a flash of lightning. Two men appeared in glorious splendor—Moses and Elijah. They’re talking with Jesus. It must've been overwhelming & incredible, frightening & unforgettable all at the same time.

And Peter doesn’t know what to say. But that wasn’t the kind of problem that typically stopped him from opening his mouth. So he says: (Lk. 9:33) Master, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let us get to work and serve you three and let’s keep this glorious experience going.

And while Peter is offering to jimmy up some tents, he’s interrupted and covered by (Mt. 17:5) a bright cloud and a voice from that cloud. And the voice is God the Father telling Peter, James, and John (Lk. 9:35) This is my Son, whom I have chosen. Listen to him. And just like that the transfiguration of Jesus is over and done. It’s an overwhelming and incredible and unforgettable story. But one these three disciples kept to themselves until after Jesus’ resurrection.

This account of Jesus’ glory is unlike anything else in his life and ministry. So special that only three of his disciples got to see it. And they still didn’t get it. They wanted to hang on to it. They wanted it to last forever. They wanted to stay up on that mountain the way that newlyweds want to stay away on their honeymoon.

But we shouldn’t be too hard on Peter for wanting to hang on to this glorious moment for as long as possible. We all do that, don’t we? We get fixated on glorious spiritual moments and want to stay on the mountain-top too long. Maybe it was your baptism or your confirmation or even your wedding day. Maybe you had a moment when you witnessed your faith and you were able to lead them to Jesus. Perhaps you really studied up on a story or book of the Bible, you began to really master some doctrine or teaching—maybe you even taught others about it. At first it was a little frightening, a little overwhelming, but then it was just awesome and incredible. Moments like these can be unforgettable.

But sometimes we’re too content to dwell in the past. To talk about how we were confirmed. How we once told someone about Jesus. How we once taught this or learned that. How we once did this, built that, helped over here. Without realizing it, we are paralyzed by nostalgia. Everything that seems important in life has already been done. Like Peter we just want to bask in the glory of those days. Maybe, sometimes, as a congregation—even though we don’t have a long history—we want to bask in the glory days of before COVID.

Sometimes we as Christians or as a congregation crave glory. We want to see the new baptisms, the confirmations, the weddings, the big church events. And those things are good. But there are other good works of the church, other acts of Christian service that maybe don’t look so good and glorious. It’s awesome to witness a baptism, but it’s even better to point someone who has sinned against you back to their baptism. It’s awesome to eat cake at a confirmation, but it’s even better to review the chief parts of the Catechism long after your confirmation day. It’s awesome to go to weddings, but it’s better to humbly love and serve your spouse long after they can no longer fit in their gown or tux. It’s awesome to have a packed church on Christmas belting out Joy to the World, but it’s just as God-glorifying when two or three or just a few more are warbling through a tough hymn or wiping away tears.

So often, we as Christians and even as a congregation crave the glorious things and cringe at the humble service and sacrifice that set the stage for it. But the foundation for glory is sacrifice. In fact, to Jesus, sacrifice is glory. That’s why he couldn’t stay on the mountain. He had to bring his greatest glory (Lk. 9:31) to fulfillment at Jerusalem.

Jesus couldn’t stay on this mountain. Yes this was wonderful. It was divine and glorious. But Jesus had always had that glory. Since even before (Gen. 1:1) in the beginning. Yet, (Eph. 1:4) even before in the beginning our glorious God chose to set aside his glory, to obscure it, to deny himself its comfort, power, and pleasure to save us from our sins. This glory was good. But God had something better in mind.

That’s what Jesus was discussing with Moses & Elijah. They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment.

That was Jesus’ sole focus. What these three disciples were witnessing was but a glimpse of all Jesus left behind in heaven. Jesus didn’t consider his divine glory (Php. 2:6) something to be used to his own advantage. So he hid his glory in human flesh. But he didn’t just put on a mask or take on a persona. He became like us, God in the flesh. But Jesus did much more. He didn’t just become human so that he could relate to our earthly struggles. He became human and then made himself less than us. He took on (Php. 2:7) the very nature of a servant in order to also be our Savior.

Instead of dwelling in the past, the glorious Son of God (Jn. 1:14) made his dwelling among us to change our present and our future. Instead of letting sinful flesh try to find their own way to glorious splendor, Christ Jesus became like us and mortified the flesh. His departure would be ours, because he united himself with us in his life, death, and resurrection.

That little word (Lk. 9:31) departure is a rich picture for Luke to use. The greek word is ἔξοδος and you don’t have to know a lick of Greek to recognize that word. It means departure, but also so much more to those who know their Old Testament and Moses. Exodus is the rich history of the Israelites and their deliverance from slavery in Egypt. In Exodus the one true God demonstrated his power clearly through mighty acts. The plagues were impressive, miraculous things. The first two plagues--the blood & the frogs--the wicked magicians of Pharaoh were able to replicate. But the plague of gnats they could not. God had demonstrated his ability to do what evil could not. Then in the fourth plague, he revealed his ability to pinpoint his judgments. The children of Israel were not afflicted with flies. When we think of the book of Exodus, naturally our minds run to these powerful plagues. But, don’t forget, none of the plagues freed the children of Israel. What set them free was the Passover, when a spotless young lamb was sacrificed in their place.

The life of Jesus followed an Exodus pattern. Instead of plagues, he performed miracles. He lifted up the lame and cured the deaf. He gave sight to the blind and even raised the dead back to life. As amazing as all this was, it didn’t free the people from sin’s tyranny.

To do that, Jesus, the Lamb of God, had to live a perfect life and spill his innocent blood. The Lord of glory would have to humble himself to death--death on a cross. But this was God’s will. This was his plan. In his grace this is how he chose to save his people from their sins. Jesus‘ departure, (Php. 2:8) death on a cross, would be our delivery, our Exodus. His It is finished! Is our freedom cry.

Peter, James, & John could not stay on the mountainside--because Jesus had work to do. That’s why God the Father reminded these three disciples (Lk. 9:35) This is my Son, whom I have chosen, listen to him. Listen to what he says. Watch him follow the path I have marked out for him. (2 Cor. 4:6) God’s greatest glory is as Paul says displayed in the face of Christ--in his life, death, and resurrection.

Jesus has set us free. Free from slavery to sin and sinful glory. Like the children of Israel, a Lamb was sacrificed in your place. His sacrifice is the foundation for our glory. Because he has died for our sins, and rose triumphantly and gloriously, we too will be raised to life triumphantly and gloriously. He will, one day, transform our lowly bodies to be like his. What a glorious day that will be.

But his sacrifice is also the model for our lives. You see, just before this whole transfiguration account, Jesus told his disciples something overwhelming, frightening, and confusing. He told them he was going (Lk. 9:22) to be rejected by the elders, killed, and on the third day raised to life. Then he said to them all: (Lk. 9:23) Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. Remember who is speaking this! God’s Son. His chosen One. The One who chose to set aside his glory to sacrifice himself for us. He is calling you to follow him! He is calling you to deny your sinful urges. He is calling you to make even painful sacrifices for him and those he loves. And you know that that is what God wants. And you trust that that is what is best for you and for God’s kingdom.

What a tragedy it would be if a couple after decades of marriage looked at the life they spent together and thought: the best moment of our lives together was the honeymoon. It was all downhill from there! What kind of life is that? Rather, what builds a long, strong, happy, and glorious marriage is everything after. The big moments and the small. The memorable times and the ones no one quite remembers. What a tragedy it would be if a husband or wife could imagine life without their one-flesh mate! The couple’s big day is big not just because of what happens on that day, but how that day changes everything ever after.

As a Christian, Easter is that big day for you. It is worth celebrating, but not just in a nostalgic sense. It is worth celebrating because it changes everything ever after. It changes how you think, how you speak, how you live.

And by God’s grace you do! By God’s grace, you recognize that Christians serve in ways that are great and small, glorious and humble, memorable and easily overlooked. By God’s grace, you follow God’s Chosen Son by praying fervently, studying his Word diligently, rebuking sinners humbly, and letting you light shine courageously. By God’s grace, you don’t chase after glorious moments, but you realize that the path to ultimate glory includes ups and downs. By God’s grace, you listen carefully to the Christ of God.