If the gospel of Mark were to be made into a movie, this scene would be a special effects spectacular. Peter and James and John with Jesus on a high mountain apart.  You can almost hear a John Williams score building in the background . . . as depicted on the screen in front of us as Jesus is ‘transfigured before them, his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus.”

            Quite a scene . . . a lot to interpret cinematically. (A lot to interpret in a sermon.)

             This scene is described as a visual feast for the eyes. . . Jesus morphing into a bright figure and two previously dead guys standing around talking to him . . . very important previously dead guys, by the way . . .

            Now remember, this is the gospel of Mark – not Luke (who is given to over- the-top scenes.) Or John (the Ingmar Bergman of gospel writing) who, by the way, doesn’t mention this story.   This is Mark. Spare. Short. Without frills. Mark, with no birth narratives. Mark-- who had to be forced to tack the resurrection onto his gospel.  Mark who does not waste words-- tells this story just after what biblical scholars call the hinge of that gospel. The place where the gospel takes a turn toward the cross.

            This story is transitional. In the gospel and in the liturgical year. In the gospel, the movement is from Jesus ministry and the disciples figuring out who Jesus is;  to Jesus’ passion, and where faithfulness leads.

             In the liturgical year it is the bridge for us between Epiphany and Lent.  This dazzling scene is the climax to all the stories in which it is revealed to us bit by bit who Jesus was and what he could do. And it is also the scene in which we are pointed toward the way of dying. In that circle Eric Law introduced, the one I shared with you, this is the peak of the gospel cycle. The fully empowered being about to willingly give his life away for the sake of others.

            Which may be why, in this feast for the eyes, this powerful vision, the message that comes from heaven is: “Listen to him!”

            We have all seen some incredible things in our lives. Beautiful paintings, amazing sunrises or sunsets, mountains or oceans, breath-taking, awe inspiring wonders of nature or inspired works of human hands . . . and it seems to me that what we say at moments like that is: LOOK!

That is not the message here. It is “This is my Child, the Beloved, listen to him!”

A cloud overshadows them (we are told) and a voice comes from the cloud: “listen to him.”

Listen to him.

My dear friend Mona Bailey, a clergywoman  ‘bud’ in Dallas, and I were discussing the difficulty of preaching on the lectionary. She noted that if we were reading the whole gospel of Mark in one sitting (which, by the way, is not a difficult thing to do) that this text would make a little more sense. If we were walking along with Jesus day by day and experiencing what the disciples were experiencing, these passages might not be so disconcerting.  There might not be so many unanswered questions. We would know what led up to this, why Mark tells us this happened six days later (six days after what?)  And we might have a little more information about why Moses and Elijah were in this story. What was going on?

            Mona and I talked about what had happened that we might have missed. . Our reading last week was from the second chapter of Mark and now, here we are in the ninth!

            So, we need to do a little catch up to understand. This is tricky business, and a little irritating, like a friend slipping in next to you during a movie and whispering, “What did I miss?” I always want to catch my friend up, but I also don’t want to miss what’s going on now! The good news is, we can have a pause button!

            So, let’s just turn as briefly as possible to six days earlier. In chapter eight, Jesus is in a boat with the disciples. He has just fed a crowd of four thousand. (In Mark, this is the second large crowd he has fed. The one before was five thousand.)

After the story of feeding the people, the Pharisees ask for a sign. Now, pay attention here. All those Epiphany stories of healing and casting out demons, and now two stories of feeding multitudes, and the Pharisees want a sign from heaven! We are told that they were testing Jesus. (Talk about clouds!! Not able to understand what Jesus’ ministry means, and the gathering storm . . .)

            Jesus says to them that no sign will be given and then he gets into a boat with the disciples ‘to go to the other side’ and this little incident occurs:

            The disciples had forgotten to bring any bread. They were always forgetting bread. They had only one loaf.

            Jesus, it seems, felt a need to warn them after the incident with the Pharisees, in which he was asked for a sign.

            “Watch out,” he said, “beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod.”

            They looked at the loaf of bread they had and then at one another with what I imagine to be those looks of bewilderment on their faces. Those clouded eyes, (and a little cartoon cloud above their heads with a ‘huh?’ in it.)

“It is because we have no bread.”

They were thinking literally. Thinking literally often gets the disciples in trouble. This, I find to be good news for people like us.

            I don’t think I have to say I am not inclined to interpret this story literally; I tend to read scripture metaphorically, rather than literally.

             I enjoy the mythical quality of many of these stories. I believe things don’t actually have to have happened in order to be true. Human language is so limited. I don’t, by the way, need scriptural affirmation for the way I interpret the texts, but if I did, here it is in Mark: Jesus is speaking metaphorically, and the disciples took it literally, and therefore, they missed the point.

            He even gets a little cranky with them, or a little exasperated.

“Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not perceive or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes, and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear? And do you not remember?” And he reminds them of the feeding of the multitudes and how much there was left over . . .And he says, “Do you not yet understand?”

            Did they not yet understand who he was?

Did they not yet understand what God could do?

Were they still living in the place of scarcity when he had tried to teach them in both word and action that God is a God of plenty?

Were they still thinking this was about bread when it was about so much more?

That is what happened six days earlier.

            So, let’s return to that mountaintop for a moment, and let’s look at that scene metaphorically.

            Location itself provides the first clue that some special revelation is at hand, for a ‘high mountain: recalls the commission of Moses on Mt. Horeb and the giving of the Torah on Sinai.

            We talk of mountaintop experiences and being lifted up, and from heights we gain new perspectives and are given greater vision.

            There are elements in the transfiguration that are familiar to us. It sounds a lot like Jesus’ baptism, which in Mark is the birth narrative: Jesus’ birth into his ministry; the answering of his call. Peter and James and John weren’t present for the baptism. I think we have that story because Jesus told it. I think it was a formative moment for him. I think we have this story because it was formative for Peter, James, and John. The event is mentioned again in the second epistle of Peter, written by Peter or one of his disciples.

            It’s not so very hard to understand when we look at it metaphorically. I think we all have had times in our lives when, for better or worse, we saw someone in a “different light.”  When someone we thought we knew was revealed to us as more or less than we thought they were.

            I remember such a moment in my own life. It was before the wedding of my youngest daughter, Becca. Her father and I had been divorced since Becca was five. He left to be free to marry another woman, Lynda. Even though I had been very unhappy in the relationship, one we entered into with no idea what we were doing, because we were so very young. I didn’t like being ‘left.’ And I had harbored ill will, to say the least, toward Lynda and my ex-husband for all those years, going on twenty at the time of this story. I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth.

            At any rate, there was a bridal luncheon just before the wedding, given by my friends in my town, and Lynda was invited. She didn’t know anyone there except for me, and my daughters. My family and friends surrounded me. Family and friends who had heard my side of the divorce drama exclusively. Everyone there was on my side. Lynda wouldn’t have a single friend in the room. But she came. And as she walked into that room, I realized how much she must love my daughter. I was not sure that in her shoes, I would have had what it took to attend that soiree. The courage. But she loved my daughter enough to attend. Courage is a matter of heart.

             I saw Lynda in a different light from that moment on. She was radiant to me. My heart softened. And our relationship changed. (By the way, Lynda did not change that day. She had always been that loving person. She had always loved Becca.  It was just the first time that I was able to get beyond my grudge and see it.)

            The disciples saw Jesus in a different light. They knew some things, but now they were even more aware of how special he was, how among people, how, even among other spiritual leaders,  he tended to stand out; to shine!

            We are told that there appeared to them Elijah and Moses with Jesus. Well, we use language like that, too, don’t we?

            I speak of two of my mentors, Gordon and Mary Cosby, in elevated terms like that. I have often said that one day people will see them as the great church reformers of our day, alongside Martin Luther, John Calvin and John Wesley.

            How else do we describe people who are so important to us? People who have taught us so very much, who have helped us see the world in different ways? People who may have helped us become more fully who and what we were called to be? We speak of them in the company of others we hold in great esteem.

            There is Moses, representing the Law. And Elijah, the prophet. Jesus is in some good company on that mountaintop. Jesus brings something to this table.

             We have a trinity with Jesus present. What Jesus brings is love. Love is the needed element of balance. Without love, the law becomes a brutal master. Without love, prophecy is empty. Paul wrote eloquently of that in his letter to the Corinthians: “If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy going or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.”

            When he said to beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod I think he was telling them not to lean on law without balancing it with love. Not to forget to temper law with compassion. He taught that over and over. And I think he was telling them to keep their eyes open to the miracles, to the healings, to the more-than-enoughness of God’s realm, rather than to live in the place of scarcity, which blinds us to reality. In the land of scarcity, human beings are in their very beings, not good enough. They must constantly strive to appease God. In the land of scarcity there is not enough bread, not enough life, not enough power, not enough grace for everyone. In the land of scarcity, all those things must be hoarded and carefully doled out, for protection, don’t you know? We must always protect the privileged from the ‘undeserving.’  Who knows what will happen when people are treated with equality? When all people are empowered? If there is grace freely given to all? How will we manipulate people?  In the land of scarcity, equality, justice, grace and compassion are questioned and feared, for there cannot be enough to go around. A meritocracy won’t work and can’t make sense if those things are in abundant supply!

            But in reality, in God’s realm, in truth: there is no scarcity. There is more than enough. To empower the downtrodden is not to take power away from others. Power is not limited.  Hard for us to grasp, but crucial. In reality, in the Realm of God: All can become more empowered.

            Like yeast spread out it lifts up many loaves. The yeast of the Pharisees is hoarding. It is saying things like: “If gays and lesbians are allowed to marry, then heterosexual marriage will be destroyed.” 

            The yeast of the Pharisees would have us believe that a living minimum wage is going to cost us all. And we can’t afford it. The yeast of the Pharisees is the lies of the domination system.

            The yeast of the Pharisees would keep some down in order to keep a few up. And the yeast of Herod?

The yeast of Herod would have us believe that violence is a valid means to keep the order. That the death penalty is going to get us the safety we long for. That war is an okay way to seek peace. The yeast of Herod is the idea that violence is needed to enforce the lies of the domination system. That death is the last word.

            Beware the yeast of the Pharisees and the yeast of Herod. That bread is toxic. It does not feed you. It does not feed the world in a healthy way.

            Actions without love.

            Law without love. Prophecy without love. It is not only empty, it can be death dealing. Violence as a way of keeping the peace.

From the cloud we hear a voice. From our cloudy understandings and struggles to live more consciously, we hear a voice:

            “Listen to him!” the voice from heaven says. “Listen to him.”

            Marcus Borg recently preached about this voice. Let me share his words with you:

         “This  phenomenon of the Divine Voice actually has a name in the Jewish tradition. The Hebrew phrase that names this Divine Voice [because  the Divine Voice is known in stories of the Rabbis as well  and not just in stories of Jesus] is bat cole. Let me translate  that for you, because it's very interesting. Translated into  English, bat cole means "the daughter of a sound." What  kind of metaphor is this? The Voice of God, the Divine Voice,  is the daughter of a sound. 

We  hear this same voice in the Hebrew Bible in I Kings 18, the  story of Elijah in a cave when the presence of God passes past  him. We are told in the English translations of that story  that Elijah hears a still, small voice -- that's the bat  cole,  the daughter of a sound. 

The  Hebrew for the voice that Elijah hears, translates literally  into English as "Elijah heard  the sound of thinnest silence." So the daughter of a sound,  the sound of thinnest silence, a still, small voice, all different  ways of attempting to express this that lies perhaps beyond  the boundaries of speech. 

Have  you ever heard this Voice? [Marcus Borg’s wife] was leading a Sunday morning group a couple of weeks ago in which she explained to the group  this notion of the bat cole, and after explaining it, she asked  the group, "Have any of you ever heard this Voice?" And  several in the group had. 

One  woman spoke about a time when she was seven years old and when  she heard a Voice speak to  her as clearly as any voice has ever spoken to her, "You  belong to me." Then she said, "I didn't hear it with my ear. But I heard it."

            God is pursuing us like a lover pursues the Beloved. God is longing for us to know that we belong to the Divine, that we are God’s Beloved.

            God wants us to know that God wants the very best for us. God wants us to live not in the place of scarcity, but the place of abundance. God is whispering all the time that love, those promises.

            Jesus tried to teach us that. God longs for us to leave the illusion of this world, to quit eating the toxic bread of the domination system and feast instead on the bread that the Holy One gives us: the Bread of Life.

            If we were celebrating communion this morning, we would taste that bread. We would be remembering the promises with wine upon our lips.

            We would be encouraged to let go of life lived in illusion – to die to the lies of the domination system – so that we might live in newness of life: in the Realm of God, in which all are fed and there are baskets left over.

            God calls us to open the eyes and ears of our hearts for that love to enter in and transform our very beings. Transfigure us to be the love we were created to be.

            We are invited to live in the reality that there is enough for all and that all are good enough. Let this be our Lenten journey. . . toward love that knows no end. Thanks be to God.