Stuck

Mark 9:2-10

I recently read an anecdote about a young child who crawled through the flap of a giant claw-machine at an arcade to retrieve a teddy bear. He got stuck inside the machine. As the story put it, his mother had stepped away to make change when his desire for the plush animal got the better of him. Initially the child was overjoyed to find himself in a pit of toys. He had what he wanted; he found what he’d been seeking. But the comfort of the teddy bear did not last as time passed and he realized that he was stuck in a pit of toys. A crowd gathered outside the box; the young boy became upset and started crying. It probably didn’t help that the owner of the arcade couldn’t find the keys to open up the claw machine. He was set free eventually.

If you haven’t already guessed, I’m now going to attempt to liken the mountaintop transfiguration to an arcade claw machine. As Jesus shines with the light of God’s glory, Peter’s eyes are aglow with hope as he glimpses an opportunity to grasp and hold this comforting revelation: he was right! Just a few verses earlier, Jesus had asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” Peter was the first to respond, “You are the Messiah!” And then, he was sternly ordered not to tell anyone. That’s like…seeing the teddy bear in the machine and being told, “No we’re not going to play that, today.”

There was something special about Jesus, Peter might not have understood it completely, but he was at least aware of it, and he wanted to experience more of it. He’d seen his teacher heal, and teach, and calm the wind and waves with a single word; he’d seen Jesus drive out demons, raise a girl from the dead, feed five thousand with five loaves and two fish; Peter saw Jesus walk on water, show compassion to outcasts, speak out against oppressors. Peter wanted to share in his master’s glory, and there it was shining in full force on the mountaintop, and not only that but there stood Moses and Elijah, too! “Wow,” Peter gushed, “this is it! This is the place to be.” So he suggests, “Let’s stay here forever!” Translation: “Let’s crawl inside this glorious toy machine!”

But the comfort and joy of the teddy bear only last so long once you realize you’re stuck. The sky grows dark, the clouds roll in, and a voice comes down from heaven, as it did at Jesus’ baptism, “This is my son, the Beloved; listen to him!” The scene changes, the sparkles subside, and the disciples find themselves alone with Jesus. The very next thing we read is that they are “coming down the mountain”, and being sworn to secrecy about what they’d seen. It seems God doesn’t want them to be stuck up there.

Nor does God want to be stuck inside a box. As magnificent as the glory of God is, as brightly as it shone through the Christ, as comforting and exciting as it seemed on the mountain…that glory cannot be contained in a box, or in a booth, or even in three booths. If that were the case, then the glory of God becomes little more than bait, and faith becomes a trap. That’s not the intention. In fact, God’s intent in sending the Christ is revealed to be quite the opposite: to set us free from the traps in which we’re already stuck. God doesn’t want us to be stuck.

Where might we be stuck? The ministry and teaching of Jesus, which so enamored and inspired Peter, gives us clues. When Jesus healed the deaf and blind, he was reminding us that we can get stuck in the way we hear and see things—we can get stuck in the trap of our own opinions. When Jesus taught about following the law in a new way, and warned us of the “yeast of the Pharisees,” he was reminding us that we can get stuck in in the trap of self-righteousness. When Jesus taught that no one puts a lamp under a bushel, he was reminding us that we can get stuck in the trap of thinking it more important to possess something than to share it. Such is the trap of staying on the mountaintop.

But that brings us to the confusing question about the whole ordeal: if God doesn’t want us to get stuck on the mountaintop, if God desires that his glory and love be shared, then why are the disciples ordered to remain quiet about what they’d seen “until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead”?

Let’s ponder this. The glory of God is not fully revealed to world until the crucified Christ is risen from the dead. Death and resurrection are an important, and necessary, part of God’s plan for sharing his love with the world. Death and resurrection are also the most misunderstood part of God’s plan. Every time Jesus shares with the disciples that he must suffer and die (i.e. the scene directly preceding the transfiguration) they don’t get it. Our friend Peter even rebuked Jesus for suggesting that such a thing should happen, to which Jesus famously replies: “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Peter was stuck, and couldn’t look past the tragedy of this proclamation to see how God was using death to defeat death and set us free from the trap of sin and selfishness. Remember how shortsighted the Palm Sunday crowds were? They hailed Jesus as a King and military leader, but quickly let their faith in him falter as he began to show signs of (what they interpreted to be) weakness. But what if they had they been convinced that he was the Son of Man, the Messiah…they might not have allowed his persecution to take place. They would have taken up arms to defend him from death, and he would have never been able to defeat it. Had the disciples shared with people what they’d seen on the mountaintop, people would have had reason to hope, reason to rally, reason to rise up, but they wouldn’t’ve had the whole picture, and they wouldn’t’ve allowed the event to take place which would open their eyes and full understanding to the way of the love of God. They would have gone to war to defend the one who was to rescue them from the need for war; they would have killed and died to defend the one who was to defeat death; they would have destroyed peace to preserve the one who proclaimed the dawning of God’s peaceable kingdom. In pursuit of protecting their savior, they would have participated in their own destruction. They would have stayed stuck. And God doesn’t want us to be stuck.

The “crucified savior” is a paradox. God’s love is a mystery. I am certain that many questions remain surrounding the subject. The apostle Paul went so far as to suggest that many people’s questions might even lead them to assume that this foundation of Christian faith is foolishness. And so I’ve chosen to focus on these questions as a theme for our Lenten journey. It is my hope that as we wrestle with the paradox of God’s liberating love we will loosen ourselves from the trappings of sin and self-destructiveness, so that we may arrive at Easter ready to be fully freed, un-stuck, and sent to serve.