Sermon for the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, February 11, 2024

2 Kings 2:1-12+Psalm 50:1-6+2 Corinthians 4:3-6+Mark 9:2-9

Generally speaking, I don't spend a lot of time talking about the prophets of the Hebrew scriptures in my sermons. Oh, sure, I included a bit about Isaiah last week, and every so often Amos or Ezekiel or Jeremiah will pop up for us to take note of them. And it isn't that they aren't important or that I'm not interested, because I love the prophets. Talk about comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable - that's the definition of a prophet. No, the difficulty is that prophets cannot simply be extracted from their context for our inspection. They are situated in a time and place and show up for an explicit reason, called by God to be truth-tellers to powers and people and, in turn, to plead the case of those with whom God is angry or threatening to destroy. Prophets come at specific historical moments in the history of Judah and Israel, and it takes a lot of unpacking to help all of you understand what they were about.

But today, I'm going to wade into this, because the prophet Elijah is too important to ignore and has a very explicit messianic purpose. He's the one who’s going to come just before the Messiah does. John the Baptist was considered the Elijah for Jesus, but in our reading from Mark today, we actually have Elijah along with the great deliverer Moses, up there on that mountaintop with Jesus and friends.

Elijah and Elisha both lived in the 800s BCE. Elijah did rhetorical battle with Ahab and his Phoenician wife Jezebel. As the prophet Samuel had warned so long ago, the people would regret ever wanting to have a king, because kings get drunk on power, and they tax and pillage and plunder, and that is just what happened. Ahab is one of the worst. Much of the book of 1 Kings tells of the miracles Elijah worked and his frequent engagements and confrontations with Ahab and Jezebel. Elisha is anointed as his successor about midway through 1 Kings where we learn that he became Elijah's servant (1 Kings 19:22).

After Ahab dies, just as Elijah said he would, and his successor Ahaziah dies, just as Elijah said he would, we come to our reading this morning, where we have the story of Elijah being taken up to heaven on a whirlwind while Elisha watches. This is why it was expected that Elijah would return; he did not die but was taken up. This is also why Jews keep an empty place at the table for Elijah at Passover. Elijah's non-death means that he could return just the way that he left.

And so, we come to the transfiguration, the last in the series of epiphanies that we hear about Jesus, from his baptism to miracles, the calling of disciples to teaching with authority. At this point we are a little over halfway through Mark, and Jesus has just predicted his death, Peter rebukes him for that, and Jesus very explicitly tells them what the cost of discipleship will be:

If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? (Mark 8:34-37)

And then he gets away again, but this time he takes his closest friends, Peter and John and James, and they all head up Mount Tabor. If these were to be the principal apostles following the crucifixion, they needed to know - even more than the others - who he was. And Moses shows up, the one who led the Israelites out of bondage in Egypt, just as Jesus would lead people out of bondage to sin and death. And Elijah is there, the great prophet who was to be the forerunner of the Messiah.

The season of Epiphany is bookended by God's identifying the Son, but with a twist. At the baptism, Jesus hears God's voice saying, "You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (1:11). But here, up here on this mountain, God's words are intended for the three disciples, "‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’" (9:7).

We all know that understanding did not come to them right away. They all bumbled along until after Jesus had been raised from the dead, and if they really didn’t tell anyone about what happened up there on that mountain, you can imagine them chatting amongst themselves later and wondering if it would be safe to tell others what they had seen and heard that day. I mean, if Jesus came back from the dead, surely no one would think they were hallucinating if they tell them about Moses and Elijah and Jesus, would they?

Many of us, I am sure, have had mountaintop experiences when we, like Peter, would like to build a house and never return. But part of the wonder of those experiences is that they are so unique, and we notice and value them because they are so rare. Jesus's place was not up on that mountain, and neither is ours. He came down to find a bunch of disciples unable to help a young boy possessed by a demon because, as Jesus said them, exasperated, "‘You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you?'" (9:19). It was no picnic trying to get the people ready to carry on without him, but it was the work he needed to do. He had told them he was going to Jerusalem, and they had to be prepared for what that meant.

But we all know that they weren't ready. However, as is often said, "God does not call the prepared; God prepares the called." And that is what Jesus did with his followers, and that's what God continues to do with us. God makes us ready to feed and tend and heal and love beyond anything we might be able to manage on our own. It doesn't really take much from us, faith the size of a mustard seed, and a willingness to walk alongside Jesus wherever that might lead.

Sure, we get discouraged and wonder if we really make a difference. And we know that Elijah did, too. He went off and hid in a cave until God called him out and asked him what he was doing there (1 Kings 19). The needs of our community, of our world, can seem overwhelming. The good news is that we do not have to do everything; we just have to do something.

One of our modern-day prophets, the Rev. Dr. William Barber, wrote that “Prophets believe that what they proclaim on any day can be transformed into real action.”[1] I would add that what we believe can be channeled into what we can do. Our journey through Epiphany has taught us that Jesus didn't just use words. He modelled the way for us, a way of prayer and connecting with the source of our life, coming back down the mountain to do the work right in front of us, and to go among God's people to love and serve, to teach and feed, even if it takes us to the foot of the cross, because that is exactly where this journey will take us now.

Are you ready?

[1] Rev. Dr. William J. Barber, II, Forward Together: A Moral Message for the Nation (Chalice Press: Des Peres, MO, 2014)