Make a New Normal

Not the Mountain

The story of our failure reveals the opportunity for connection: that the point is not to seek the mountain, but each other.


Divinity isn’t found in a special place
Epiphany Last C  |  Luke 9:28-36, [37-43a]


The mountaintop is where the magic is. 

Throughout history, people have sought enlightenment at the pinnacle, the peak. Quite literally. From Buddha to Babel. Reaching up has been the human impulse to transcend our existence.

Our tradition has a track record with it. It’s where Moses encountered God. And ever since, we have tried to do the same. Elevating our bodies, our minds, and even our spiritual and subconscious selves. We’ve sought outward means of unlocking our minds and projecting ourselves into the cosmos.

So when we read here that Jesus is taking Peter, James, and John up the mountain, we’re all like: oh, stuff’s gonna happen!

And the gospel doesn’t disappoint, does it? Dead Prophets show up, mystical weather patterns, God speaking! This moment we call The Transfiguration delivers on that promise.

But at this point, we shouldn’t be surprised that it also doesn’t deliver in the way that we expect. Because yes, a lot does happen on the mountaintop, but this story isn’t about the mountaintop.

It’s about what’s real.

Now, so much happens in this passage (and around this passage) that we’re not going to go line-by-line through it. But we do need to remember what Jesus’s appearance means.

We refer to Jesus being transfigured. Which is a strange word nobody ever uses in any situation but this one. Mostly because we’re modernists who can’t handle the concept. But I digress.

To transfigure means (essentially) for one’s appearance to change or for one to appear as changed.

Notice the word transfigure has the same prefix as transform. The two words pair in our minds in an interesting way, especially when we pair the idea of appearance versus reality. So the transfigured looks different and the transformed is different.

This, however, reveals a great blindspot in our reasoning and understanding. Because we tend to think appearances aren’t real and biology somehow trumps our experience.

The transfiguration of Jesus is very much real. And has a far greater impact than if he had been transformed.

Before the Mountain top

To make this idea make sense, we need to do a little more digging.

Let’s go back a second to what happened right before and then after the Transfiguration on that mountain top. Because this is where the real magic happens.

We’re in chapter 9 of Luke, which begins with Jesus taking the twelve aside, empowering them to heal the sick, and sending them out to do it. And when they return, crowds follow them back and Jesus feeds the multitudes. Then we have the part where Peter pins Jesus as “Messiah”. Jesus declares that he is going to suffer and die and that discipleship includes sacrifice.

Then they go up the mountain. Where Jesus will talk about that very death with Moses and Elijah.

After starting the chapter with apostles empowered to heal, we have this down from the mountain moment in which those same apostles appear powerless.

Can you imagine the confusion and frustration they must feel? To fail at what they could do just days ago? Like a shooting guard who suddenly can’t land a free throw.

In sports psychology, they refer to this as “the yips”. Two of the most famous examples were Chuck Knoblauch, a gold glove second baseman who suddenly couldn’t throw to first and the pitching phenom, Rick Ankiel, who suddenly couldn’t throw strikes. One moment they could do it and suddenly: not. And nothing they do fixes it.

We get obsessed with the question Is it real? But what looks real also has real outcomes.

The story before chapter 9 is about Jesus healing people. Now, the story is about the disciples becoming apostles and they heal people. So this isn’t a story of Jesus healing the boy. It’s a story of the apostles’ failure to heal a boy.

What is at the heart of this failure?

I wish I had an easy answer to that. But I think that may not be the central question.

Humans have attributed the mountain top with magic for centuries. It’s where you go to encounter the divine. Except that they encounter it in Jesus. And the apostles have already been agents of the divine. Before the mountain.

Before the transcendent experience with the divine, they were intermingling with the divine. Doing divine work. 

So in other words, the mountaintop experience isn’t special. It isn’t a place of divine magic as if the ground below was nothing. Divinity is everywhere!

So let’s hold onto that image: of this divine world and the apostles already empowered by God in it.

And then, let’s look at what the disciple/apostles do. They’ve heard that their work involves sacrifice. Then, on the mountaintop, when Peter witnesses Jesus talking about his coming crucifixion, Peter’s response is to build dwellings so they can live there. And when they come down the mountain, they don’t talk about it.

At the base of the mountain, a man reports that he has begged the apostles to heal his son, but they can’t. And Jesus does it himself.

Given that we know the disciple/apostles are capable, this isn’t a story about their ability. It is a story of their failure.

And the story gives us one more clue.

When God speaks through a cloud on the mountaintop to Peter, James, and John, it says:

“This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!”

After this, there is only one speaking part for Jesus in the narrative. And what is it?

“You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.”

While it is easy to dismiss this question of Jesus’s as a moment of frustration, what if we actually listened? And not as literalists who miss half the point. But to listen to him as students.

What is faithless and perverse in this moment? Among all the people there?

Well, when we take what we’ve already seen: that the apostles and disciples can heal the boy, but don’t. When Peter hears the plan to go to Jerusalem and suggests they stay up the mountain. And when the three who witness the divine moment don’t even talk about it, we see three big things right there!

This man begs the apostles to heal his son. Is it the yips? Are they truly unable to do it? In spite of everything they try? Do they only think they can’t? Is it in their heads? Have they convinced themselves they can’t? Let’s be honest; that’s textbook lack of faith.

And according to Oxford Languages, perverse is defined as:

“showing a deliberate and obstinate desire to behave in a way that is unreasonable or unacceptable, often in spite of the consequences.”

Obviously Jesus thinks they are being obstinate. That the problem isn’t that they can’t heal the boy (they obviously can), but perhaps in refusing to believe they can.

There’s still a big why hovering over this story.

And to get at it, we have to leave the directness of the story and into interpretation. Because that “why” is still undefined. Why can’t they heal? 

Jesus leads us toward two reasons: lack of belief and behaving unreasonably. Or to put that second part in another way: insisting on behaving the way the culture wants them to behave rather than as agents of the Kin-dom.

So maybe it isn’t one thing: there wasn’t a single mistake that landed them in the doghouse. In fact, it doesn’t read like a situation in which they are being punished for anything! Quite the opposite. It seems several things go wrong and they take themselves out of the game. Which means Jesus has to swoop in and take care of what they failed to do.

So it is really a few things! Like jealousy: Peter, James, and John seem to get special treatment. And arrogance: Peter jumps in and is like let’s stay up here! I also think it is low self-esteem: we can’t do this without him! [even though they just did] and confusion about the mission.

But at the heart of all of this is one obvious truth.

They aren’t listening.

Sure, they listened when he said go, do. But when he said that he would have to suffer, we said not on my watch! When he said that they would have to sacrifice, we said I’ve already done enough! And when Jesus discussed what they would have to do, we were like hey, let’s stay up on the mountaintop!

And that is what makes this a faithless and perverse generation! We, who read this story every year, who follow Jesus and disciple his way of love, we think we have to go up mountains to find God. And that our true purpose is to stay there! It’s not!

Our job is to heal the sick and bring good news to the poor. It’s to reconcile with our adversaries and bring wholeness, justice, and peace to the world. The divine doesn’t live on mountaintops or in our temples: she lives in our lives! And every time we abuse our neighbor, we abuse God!

War brings hell to earth. And followers of Jesus are called to be peacemakers in light of that. To stand in the breach to broker, not just an end to war, but a just peace.

And like war, nationalism, in all of its forms, is a perversion of the Kin-dom. It obstinately puts our desires for power and dominance over the very lives of our neighbors.

Because Jesus teaches us to heal and protect our neighbors, not kill or exploit them.

And most importantly, he teaches us to take responsibility for making peace. Not sitting back and waiting for him to do it.

Failure isn’t the problem.

Jesus doesn’t reprimand the people because they failed. He doesn’t think there are only two options: success and failure. Punishment for failure isn’t his bag either. All of this junk we impose on these concepts of doing well and taking “the right path” is utter garbage. It is the perversion that leads us to not listen! 

There isn’t only success and failure. That isn’t even the equation! Our work is striving for the kin-dom. We are bringing the kin-dom through reconciliation of the penitent. Through the joy of the good news. Freedom to the captive. Hope to those who’ve given up. Food to the hungry.

Imagine if Peter had been listening. He would’ve raced down the mountain and told everybody.

Imagine if the apostles had been listening before Jesus went up the mountain. They would have silenced their own fears to heal that man’s son.So let us listen to the Prince of Peace, Messiah, Child of Humanity. The one calling us out for our faithlessness and obstinance. Who also calls us in to a life of renewed faith, to serve this world. This neighborhood. These neighbors. With love. With Kin-dom hearts and deep faith in Jesus’s Way of Love.