Paul Walker, “Six Days Earlier”
The account of Jesus’s Transfiguration begins with “Six days later.” Before we see Jesus take Peter, James, and John up a mountain, before we see a carpenter from Nazareth at least partially revealed in His true nature – transfigured with a face shining like the sun, before we are gob-smacked with the appearance of long dead biblical heroes popping in for a quick chat with Jesus – Moses, who represents the Law and Elijah the greatest of the prophets, before we watch Peter stammer out the suggestion that he build three booths so everyone could settle in for a while, before we hear God the Father boom from a cloud, “This is my Son! Listen to Him!”, before the disciples hit the dirt in facedown in fear in the presence of the Lord, before Jesus tenderly comes to them, touches his quivering friends, and tells them not to be afraid, before all of that, we would do well to remember what happened six days earlier.
The disciples can’t be faulted for not remembering what happened six days earlier. Can you remember what happened six days ago? Some of us have entered the stage where we can’t remember what happened six hours ago, and we dread the comment, “Don’t you remember? I told you that yesterday!” But Matthew introduces this epiphanal event with the clause, six days earlier, so let’s go back six days ago before we plow ahead. What happened was this: Jesus told his disciples in no uncertain terms that He would be betrayed, tortured and killed. He also added that he would be raised on the third day.
Peter, at least, likely didn’t hear that last bit about the third day because he couldn’t get past the torture and death Jesus predicted for Himself. In fact, Peter laid into Jesus, rebuking him. “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you!” Jesus turned the tables and rebuked Peter, saying “Get behind me, Satan!” Jesus knows that He must suffer death and needs no temptation to stray from His appointed course, which God ordained for Him since the beginning of time and before the foundation of the earth.
Who can blame Peter, though? One reason is emotional – it is a terrible thing to watch someone you love suffer. It is a worse thing to watch someone you love suffer and die. I need not supply any illustrations here, for you all have too many of your own. As do I.
But the second reason Peter freaked out was more entrenched. Six days earlier Peter had confessed Jesus as the Messiah – who was to be heralded and worshipped. No one in the history of human imagination had ever conceived of the worship of a crucified man. As one commentator says, “Jews and pagans alike were ready to affirm resurrection and immortality. What they could not believe was that a Messiah could die.” Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you. It’s all wrong. It’s not the way things are supposed to go.
So, six days later, up on the mountain, away from the turmoil and drudgery of everyday life, with Jesus in his glory and Moses and Elijah in for a tete a tete, all seems right again with the world. Peter decides the best thing to do is build some dwellings – tiny houses? – so everybody can just settle in on the mountain top and keep the world and its issues at bay. Again, who can blame Peter? Life is rife with trouble. And sometimes, as Shakespeare says, “when sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.”
God will have none of it, of course, because God only deals in reality. He is not interested in our flimsy defenses against suffering, which will crumble under the march of time. God, in fact, deals in suffering; suffering is where He does His best work. In the end, the Quad God skater, Ilia, failing in his big moment at the Olympics is a way better thing for him than winning the gold medal. Sounds terrible, I know, but can’t you look back now on something that was terrible in the moment, but has produced unlooked for, unsuspected, even unimaginable good?
It is deeply comforting to know that God is not just in the good stuff of life, but the bad stuff too. God is the dealer of and the dealer in suffering. So, what God is saying to the disciples, and what Jesus said to Peter six days earlier, and what I am saying to you today is that your single spies and your battalions are dispatched by God so that you may seek and find the God who redeems all suffering. Thus, God’s swift and heavy-handed response to Peter’s tomfoolery: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well-pleased. Listen to Him!”
Finally, we come to the most important bit of the whole account. When Jesus comes to comfort His friends, “they looked up and saw no one but Jesus himself alone.” The Law will not help you in your time of need. The Law will only show you your need. The prophets – those who tell the hard truths about God will not help you in your time of need. Most modern-day prophets just make you feel guilty. They will not comfort you. There is only one source of comfort in time of need. This is my Son. Listen to Him.
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. I was sent a sermon clip from a Scottish preacher that I’ll close with, but not in a Scottish accent. But here’s the gist. When you die and you find yourself at the pearly gates and an angel stands guard of the entrance and asks, “Why do you belong here? Why should you be allowed in?” Well, I followed God’s commandments the best I could. (That’s the Law). Or well, I really was super spiritual, and I worked for justice. (That’s the Prophets). Or even, well, I have so much faith in Jesus. What about that? The truth is that any answer in the first person is always the wrong answer. Because your salvation is not about you at all.
The answer is always in the third person and always the substance of Six Days Earlier. because Jesus was betrayed, tortured, died and was raised on the third day for me. Never me, always He. Then the Scottish preacher imagines talking to the thief on the cross next to Jesus – the one that Jesus tells “today you will be with me in Paradise.” He shows up at the gates, and the angel says, “why are you here?” “Um, I don’t know.” “What do you mean, you don’t know?” “I mean I don’t know!” Well, did you lead an honest and good life? “Uh, no. I cheated and stole until I got caught.” “Okay, do you at least have a good grasp on the doctrine of justification by faith.” “What by what?” “Well then just tell me what you are doing here!!!!” Finally, the thief answers, “I really don’t know. All I know is the guy on the middle cross told me I belonged here.”
When they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone.
Amen.