Highs and Lows

The story of the Transfiguration (Lk. 9:28-36), which is the Gospel for this coming Sunday, the last before Lent, is a juxtaposition of highs and lows. 

On the one hand, the Transfiguration is a high.  Peter, James, and John accompany Jesus up the mountain.  The disciples are present as Jesus prays and is transfigured.  Luke says that “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.”  (v. 29)  Then Moses and Elijah appear and speak with Jesus.  And finally all are overtaken by a mysterious cloud from which the voice of God proclaims, “This is my son, my Chosen; listen to him!”  (v. 35)  Definitely a high.

That story is followed by puzzling story about a boy possessed by a demon (Lk. 9:37-43a), which is unfortunately only an optional part of the reading for Sunday.  The disciples had attempted to cast out the demon unsuccessfully.  The boy’s father appeals directly to Jesus, and he heals the boy.  What is troubling is Jesus’ harsh response to the unsuccessful disciples:  “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you?”  (v. 41)  Definitely a low point. 

The exact reason for Jesus’ harsh criticism is left a matter of speculation.  Maybe the disciples had grown arrogant with their earlier successes and lost touch with the reality that the authority they exercised was not actually theirs but God’s.  Or perhaps the teaching Jesus had just been doing with them about his own coming suffering and death had so disturbed them that they were rendered, at least temporarily, helpless.  Maybe they had just gotten lazy.  It is impossible to say for sure. 

What we can say for sure is that life with Jesus, not unlike life with anyone else, or for that matter, life in general, has its ups and downs.  I take some paradoxical comfort in the reality that even Jesus had his moments, moments in which he is harsh, demanding, difficult to get along with, and just plain cranky. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have his reasons.  He is, after all, determinedly heading toward Jerusalem to confront the worst that the world has to offer.  He could certainly be excused for being a bit on edge.

Still, life with Jesus has its shocks, disappointments, and hurts.  And that is good to be reminded of in the startling way the Gospel puts the highs and lows together, especially as we head into Lent.  Lent ought to be a reminder that even the divine life is real life.  In fact, the good news is that the divine life and real life are one and the same.  Real life is not just a series of unmitigated highs.  It is highs and lows together, one shedding light on the other or one keeping the other from being so blinding that all vision is hopelessly obscured.

Just as the story of the Transfiguration moves from high to low, both equally real, so Lent moves in the opposite direction from low to high, again both equally real.  It begins with a reality it is not pleasant to look at—Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.  And it ends with the greatest of all high—He is risen.  And with him, so are we.  It’s all in the high and lows.

Peace,
+Stacy