The question has come up a couple of times in the past couple of weeks. What is the deal with Jesus telling people not to tell? He heals the leper and tells him not to tell. Peter, James, and John witness him transfigured before him--his clothes are so white “no one on earth could bleach them” and he talks with Moses and Elijah, prophets who had long ago been taken up. They witness this incredible, unbelievable scene and then Jesus tells them, effectively, “oh, yeah, by the way, don’t mention what happened okay?” WHAT?!
What is going on that these amazing things are happening and Jesus wants to keep them secret? Obviously, the stories come to be told. People don’t necessarily obey his commands, but really, who could? Healed, cured, transfigured. None of these is “no big deal.” They’re all huge. They’re all life-changing, transforming experiences that leave people changed. Of course they tell. But why does Jesus ask them not to?
I think it has something to do with the fact that Jesus isn’t done yet. The most amazing part is coming and is completely different than anyone is thinking. He’s not just a healer. He’s not just a teacher. Don’t make this just about the fact that a few people are healed. No, it’s about more than that, but you’re going to have to see some things that you can’t even imagine right now. So just wait, not yet, don’t tell. More is coming. Don’t make this about this mountaintop experience. There’s another hill coming. And it’s going to have a cross on it.
Ultimately, that’s what Jesus is about. Jesus is healer and teacher and one who has the power to raise from the dead, absolutely. But that’s not only what he is about. Jesus is the one who has the power to defy death. The ones who are healed or whose loved ones are healed or those disciples on the mountaintop can’t yet contemplate a cross and an empty tomb. So Jesus tells them to wait. Don’t tell yet. More is coming.
It must have been hard to believe that there was more after the Transfiguration. “Really?” James, John, and Peter must have thought. I can’t imagine anything more. You were talking to Moses and Elijah. Peter obviously thinks this was it. He wants to build dwellings for them. Keep them there. Keep them safe. But Jesus knows better. He knows that they can’t stay on this mountaintop. He knows that he must leave the mountaintop to go down to the very depths of the human experience. He knows what is coming.
Where ever this finds us today, can we find some reassurance in the fact that Jesus didn’t want people to tell because he knew they could not imagine what was coming? Can the skeptic in us find some comfort in knowing that James, Peter, and John didn't know what to do when they saw Jesus transfigured before them? We know the story. We know how it ends. And, yet, it is still sometimes really hard to believe. It’s sometimes hard to believe that God comes down to us. It’s sometimes hard to believe Jesus would die. It’s sometimes hard to believe that the promise of life is for us. For you and for me. It’s sometimes so hard to believe it that we cling to the threads of hope, the memories of those moments when God seemed so near and real and present. And we keep walking, one step at a time, one moment, one breath. We realize that every moment can’t be lived on the mountaintop. We have to walk through the valleys, too. And, when we’re at our best, we remember that Jesus is right there with us. And when we’re at our worst, Jesus is still right there with us.
As we enter into Lent, we begin that journey toward the cross. We set our eyes, with Jesus, on everything that comes with it. Despair, grief, suffering, hope, and promise. And, because we know the rest of the story, we tell it. We tell the stories of a healer and teacher. One who died. And one who rose. And we remember that the story isn’t over yet. Christ still comes to us in surprising and unexpected ways. Christ still comes to us in the waters of baptism. In bread and wine. In the moments of great joy and the moments of deep sorrow. In the ups and downs of life, in the in-between, in the unknowns. Jesus isn’t done with us yet. Even as we look to the cross, we remember that Christ is alive, and because he lives, we live. That truth is too great to keep secret.
Thanks, Kirsten.
ReplyDelete-Carol