In the name of God . . .

Have you ever tried to describe yourself to another person who hasn't seen you before? So that they could recognize you at the airport or the mall. Or, worse, have you ever tried to describe a friend or relative to a third party, particularly when the approximations of physical data just don't seem to be getting your point across. "She's about 5'4"-ish, average height, average build, medium length brown hair. I don't know, somebody told me she looks a little bit like Jennifer Garner, but she's not that tall." Or how do you describe a physical malady to a Doctor or nurse. "Pain? Yes. On a scale of one to ten? I don't know. I guess it's a seven. It feels like someone is stabbing a sharp knife into my guts, right about here."

How long is it before your commitment to the "facts" breaks down and you start describing things in terms of comparisons. You know exactly what you're talking about. But suddenly, the best you can come up with is how it is simply "like" this, or "not at all like" that? Comparison is a powerful linguistic and mental tool. For all of humanity's ability to create and borrow new words and descriptors, it seems as if our default mode of coming to terms with the truly novel or the hard to describe is to compare it to something else: a shared experience or some kind of mental landmark.

Jesus is well known for his use of direct comparison in speaking of the things of God and the new order, which he had come to establish in the world. Throughout the Gospels, we read not of the kingdom itself but of what the kingdom is "like." The kingdom is "like a mustard seed" (Mt. 13:31-32); it is "like yeast"(v. 33); it is like "a pearl of great price" (vv.45-46). Or, in more subtle ways, Jesus teaches us that heaven is like a "house" with "many rooms" (Jn. 14:2) that God is like a "Father" (Mt. 6:9) or "Someone who gave a great dinner " (Lk. 14:15), and that the people of this age are like "children" (Lk. 7:31-32), or "sheep" (Jn. 10:14-16) or even "Chickens" (Lk. 13:34).

What we often fail to see, however, is the way in which it is not only Jesus who is a master of comparison, but the Gospel writers themselves. The way in which these ancient authors seek to describe Jesus and the other characters of the Bible to us frequently uses comparisons. In fact, comparison is the name of the game when it comes to the story of the Transfiguration, our Gospel reading for today.

One could make the argument that, despite the fact that it holds a place of high honor in the yearly celebrations of the church, the mechanics of the transfiguration are of little importance to the overall narrative flow of the Gospel. What I mean is, that while the miraculous events of the transfiguration - the glowing face, the appearance of Moses and Elijah, the sudden change in weather and the voice from the cloud - are amazing and true, they seem to have little impact on the ongoing story of Jesus. Peter, James and John, "told no one any of the things they had seen" (Lk. 9-36). And wouldn't you think that if the changes to Jesus' appearance were permanent, someone else was bound to have mentioned them? "And from that day forward, they asked Jesus to sleep in another room, on account of the brilliance of his face." No, to my mind, the power of the story of the Transfiguration is not one of fact but one of comparison. Luke is trying to teach us something about the indescribable love of God, by telling the story of this miracle in a very specific way.

The editors of the lectionary give us a little bit of a hand in discerning Luke's intention through their selection of an Old Testament text to accompany this Gospel reading. In the 34th chapter of the book of Exodus we read of Moses ascending Mt. Sinai to re-make the two tablets of the covenant, which he had broken when he saw the Golden Calf 32:19). After spending 40 days and nights upon the mountain he came down "with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand."(34:29a) But, the author informs us, "[he] did not know that the skin of his face was [also] shining, because he had been talking to God" (34:29b).

Obviously, the same trope is at work in the story of the Transfiguration. The mountaintop theophany of the wilderness is being replayed, but this time with Jesus in the starring role. And the implication is that in more ways that might be evident from a cursory reading, Jesus is like Moses.

Now, you may be wondering - how can we say that this is "true" if it is really just a retelling of an old story with new characters? Isn't it dangerous to suggest that the authors of the Gospel are simply stealing stories about Moses and turning them into stores about Jesus? Doesn't this type of storytelling betray our trust in the historicity of our faith?

These are legitimate concerns, and they have caused a lot of Christians a lot of heartache over the centuries. Yes, coming to terms with the way in which Luke has used an old story as a framework for his recounting this event from the life of Jesus can be seen as compromising the historical "truthfulness" of his tale. However, we can still believe that something miraculous happened to Jesus and his apostles on that mountain, while understanding that Luke co-opted parts of the story of Moses to highlight deeper truths about the life, death and resurrection of Christ.

It's kind of like the movies. When we watch a movie based on historical "facts," we often notice - particularly if the events portrayed are near and dear to us - that the details of the story are not always in order. The re-teller of the story has taken certain license with finer points of the story in order to reveal his or her own interpretation. Now, this can sometimes prove problematic, but it often leads both teller and hearer to a place of greater understanding, particularly is the truth being uncovered or highlighted is one that would be hard to understand is we were presented with "just the facts."

So, we read today, that Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray. There, like Moses, he has an encounter with God, which changes his outward appearance and makes his face shine with a divine radiance. What's more, he actually encounters Moses on the hill and has a conversation with him. And what is the topic of their discussion? "The departure, which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem" (Luke 9:31). It is important here to note, that the Greek word for departure is "exodos" - like the name of the second book of the Bible. At first blush, this is quirky and somewhat convoluted story. What it tells us about the identity of Jesus, we have already heard before, at Jesus' Baptism (Lk. 3:21) and any new information about Jesus' mission in Jerusalem seems to be shadowed in cloud and mist. But once we start to see the transfiguration as an example of comparative description, things start to become clearer.

Jesus follows in the footsteps of Moses to have a conversation with Moses about the things Moses knows the most about. It's like a big, flashing sign on the top of the hill - "Hey! Reader! You wanna know about Jesus? Well, I'll tell ya, He's a lot like Moses!"

OK, but what does it mean for Jesus to be like Moses? Well, at a very basic level, it reminds us that Jesus is a lawgiver, just like Moses. The comparison also suggests that Jesus is also, like Moses, a prophet - a fact, which the presence of Elijah on the mountaintop reinforces. But most importantly, the Jesus/Moses parallel gives us valuable information about the very heart of the Gospel, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

Luke sets us up for this revelation by placing the story of the Transfiguration right on the heals of the Jesus' announcement of his coming trials and death in Jerusalem (9:44,45). We read elsewhere that the disciples originally had some trouble understanding this. Peter even goes so far, in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, as to rebuke Jesus for even suggesting it (Mt. 16:22, Mk 8:32). And I would imagine that many of us gathered here still really don't understand what the death and resurrection of Jesus is really all about either.

So Luke provides us with another way to think about it. One way to understand Jesus, he suggests, is to think of him as being a lot like Moses. And one way to think about Jesus' death and resurrection is to think of it as an Exodus.

Too often, I think, we show our ignorance of the importance of the death and resurrection of Jesus, not, like Peter, in suggesting that it shouldn't or couldn't happen. On the contrary, I would suggest that most of us have a pretty firm grip and even a belief that Jesus actually died and was actually raised form the dead - at least that's what we say every Sunday after the sermon. Where I think we loose our way a little bit is when we begin to believe that Jesus' death and resurrection happened only for Jesus. Sure, its fine, and even important that Jesus beat death, but this could never happen for you or me.

It is in response to this type of sentiment that I find Luke's comparison of the paschal mystery to the Exodus so very helpful. The Exodus from Egypt was not something that Moses accomplished simply for himself. He had already done that - or maybe Pharaoh had done it for him. Moses escaped Egypt after killing an Egyptian taskmaster who was abusing a Hebrew slave (Ex. 2:11,12). Knowing that he could never go back to his life as a prince of Egypt, he ran into the desert and was absorbed into the household of Jethro, a Bedouin shepherd in the shadow of Mt. Sinai (3:1). Likewise, Jesus could have escaped the harsh realities of life and death in this world at any point. As both Satan (Lk. 4:1-13) and those who derided him from the foot of his cross remind us, he could have come down, or called forth an army of angels to protect him from death (23:35-43). He could have, like Enoch (Gen. 5:24) and Elijah (2 Kings 2:9-12), simply been translated into the presence of God and spared himself the pain and effort of dying, descending to the dead and rising again (BCP120). But neither of these would have been an Exodus.

Exodus does not simply mean departure, or escape. Exodus means leading the people of God out of their bondage and into the freedom that life in the Kingdom of God has to offer. Moses returned to Egypt and faced Pharaoh (Ex. 10:3 ff.). He gathered the sons and daughters of Israel and led them through the Red Sea (14:26-31), out of the clutches of their masters and into the presence of the God of their Ancestors. And, likewise, Christ, the very Word of God, "became flesh and dwelt among us" (Jn. 1:14). He bore all of the pain and suffering of human life. He took on the cross and the grave, parted the waters of death and is leading God's people out of their bondage to sin into the direct presence of God. But, this trip is not for the Son of God alone. Resurrection is for all who believe and call upon the name of the Lord. We are all a part of the people of God, passing through death into the resurrected life of God in Christ. Jesus is our Moses, leading the way, urging us forward calling us home.

Unfortunately this is a matter of faith. While Jesus' death and resurrection are historical facts, our own Exodus lies in our future. No one living can tell us exactly how our resurrection works or how it will feel. And even if they could, I don't know that we are prepared to understand it. Brothers and Sisters in Christ, we cannot know about our own resurrection before it happens. We can only know what it is like.
Amen.