In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

I was a sophomore in high school and my family was on the way to church. We had
just got back to the States after living in Indonesia for ten years. Im not sure what
set it off, but suddenly all I want to do was go back. I missed my friends. I missed
Indonesian food and language, the rich cultural fabric of my school, the mountains
and beaches. But even more than that, I was scared. I was scared that across the
Pacific a whole side of my self threatened to slowly fade away. Overwhelmed, the
only prayer I could muster was a feeble moan for Gods help.
What happened next was simple yet inexpressible in its significance and odd in its
telling. Looking out the window, I saw the Chinese calligraphy sign for strength
written by jet-streams across a brilliant orange sunset. That moment was radiant, it
was radiant far beyond the radiance of the sunset.

God was present in it,

encouraging me to stick it out, to trust Him with the transition and my future.

My hunch is that each of us has our own collection of treasured moments when
Gods pursuit was evident like it was for me when I saw that sign in the clouds;
moments when he broke through the ordinary details of our lives and we knew he
was present. Perhaps it was while walking in the woods, or listening to Bachs Mass
in B minor, or a conversation with a friend that went to a whole new level
whatever it was, in that moment you suddenly realized that something sacred was
happening beyond the mere details.
God was tangibly in pursuit, revealing Himself to us anew.

For the last six Sundays we have dug deep into stories from the Old and New
Testament to learn from them what it means that God pursues us, that He pulls back
the veil and allows us to see his glory. We saw God pursue the religious leaders of
Jesus' own day when he was left behind in Jerusalem by Mary & Joseph; We saw God
pursue us in creation and in re-creation through Baptism when we remembered
Christ's own baptism; We say God pursue Paul on the Damascus road; We saw God
pursue Samuel in the quiet voice of evening.
Today as we conclude this series we carry with us these stories along with the
moments in our own lives when God has been present, and reflecting on todays
gospel reading, we see the Transfiguration through the eyes of Peter. Doing this,
presents us with a simple question: what does it mean to trust the moments when
we have seen Gods glory?
What does it mean to truly trust the moments when we have seen His glory?
Over all of Christs miracles the Transfiguration stands a completely singular, naked
display of Gods glory. Eastern Christian icons, like the one on the cover of your
bulletin, provide a window into the immense drama of the scene. Christ, his robes
pure white, stands on a rocky outcrop often his feet do not actually touch the
ground. The great historic leaders of Israel Moses and Elijah stand bowed on
either side of Jesus, and further below are the disciples, sprawled in disorder as if
they had been thrown down the mountain. Peter, on the left, raises one hand to

cover his face; John, in the middle, crouches on his knees, and James is often
pictured flat on his back.
But there is something far greater happening here than even these details, so great
that the iconographers had to developed their own visual vocabulary to try to
capture it. The iconographers ended up setting Jesus against a black star, depicting
the fabric of the universe tearing open in the Transfiguration, revealing that the
source of all life resides within Christ. Yes, before the disciples is Jesus of Nazareth,
the man they'd tramped many a dusty mile with, whose mother and brothers they
knew, the one they'd seen as hungry, tired, and footsore as the rest of them. But
suddenly He is far more, far more than a prophet and miracle worker. For in the
transfiguration, they find themselves confronted with the fullness of God. Jesus
humanity has opened up to its inner dimensions, exposing His true glory.
I cant help but imagine what Peter is thinking in this moment. I mean, there it was:
he had finally seen the sign; the sign the Pharisees and doubters had asked for. They
could overlook his teaching and deny miracles, but this they couldnt overlook this.
Just as it had been prophesied, Moses and Elijah had returned to help Jesus reconcile
Israel to God. Soon God would re-establish his reign from right here on this
mountain. Excited, Peter starts to think ahead: lets build some shelters and set up
shop. It was finally going to get started.
Yet things take a sudden turn. A cloud descends, a voice knocks them to the ground,
and when they look up Moses and Elijah have disappeared, and Jesus brilliance has
faded.

Jesus orders them not to share the sign until the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
So, descending the mountain, Peter is holding this in; he must be brimming with
confused elation, wondering whats ahead. As the days pass and they walk the dusty
road towards Jerusalem, he cant help think about the light that emanated from
Christ. He cant help but wonder when will Jesus reveal again the fullness of His
glory? When will he show the doubters the sign they had asked for?
But Christs glorious revelation never comes as Peter hoped for it. On a Saturday
weeks later Christ lies dead in the tomb, and Peters hopes lie dead with him. Peters
memory of the transfiguration has been violated by the completely incongruous
horror of the cross. I can see him wondering, had the transfiguration even
happened? Was the glory he had seen in Christ real?
Or perhaps even more perplexing, if it had happened, what could it mean? How
could he reconcile the transfiguration with the cross? And so he wanders aimlessly
in the bewilderment of Saturday, stuck between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.
Eventually though Sunday does dawn.
Sunday dawns and in the light of the resurrection, Peter finally begins to understand
the glory he had seen at the transfiguration. He realizes that God can be God even in
the very heart of human terror; even in the crucifixion, the life of Jesus is still carried
along by the tidal wave of that which the icons dark background depicts, the life of
God.

Holding together the Transfiguration and the cross, we see that Gods glory can
reside in the middle of death itself. On one level, that is good news; but on another, it
means that living with God will not spare us. It will not spare us trial, agony and
death. Along with Peter, we are often tempted to believe that the vision of glory will
spare us suffering. But as Peter slowly learns on his journey between the
Transfiguration, and the cross & resurrection, Christs glory can only be seen for
what it really is when we see it containing and surviving disaster.

Christs glory can only be seen for what it really is when we see it containing and
surviving disaster.
His glory can be seen on the mountaintop; but its fullness is understood as we view
the cross on Sunday morning, and despite how we try we can only get there
through the bewilderment of Saturday.
When we go through the unexpected, when change rattles us, when we are
overwhelmed by sin and the frailty of our relationships, when our bodies fail us,
when we are haunted by the scars of our past, what will we do with those other
momentsthe sunsetsthose moments filled with Gods inexpressible radiance?
What will we do with that glimpse of Gods glory? Will we trust that Gods glory is
not merely that he will one day save us from pain, but that He is relentlessly
working to display his glory even amidst our wreckage? Will we trust that his glory
is not only found on the mountaintops, but that it is seen in its fullness beneath the
weight of the cross?

Let us pray:
Almighty God, whose glory contained and survived the cross, forgive us our unbelief,
and strengthen us to bear our cross that we might one day see the full radiance of
your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.