One evening, a long time ago, as a teenager, I was travelling by car with a few friends, when the driver had to jam on the brakes, to avoid an accident. Prior to that moment, there was lots of chatter going on as we drove. However, as the car swerved to stay on the road, narrowly missed a sign that had been to the right of the car, but was now on the left side, and finally screeched to a halt, the noise ceased. In those seconds, it was as if we had shifted into slow motion and were transported into a vacuum, void of all sound. Hearts pounding, we just sat there, recognizing the potential disaster we had escaped. Then, after catching our breaths, we drove on, continuing in silence all the way home. None of us spoke about what had happened.
Throughout life, sometimes events can suddenly thunder into presence of mind, body, and soul. They can do so in such a powerful way that all that is left behind is silence. In chapter 9 of the Gospel according to Mark, the Transfiguration of Jesus is described as both an awesome and frightening experience for the apostles, Peter, James, and John. What transpired, was completely unexpected. In verse 6, Jesus is described as somewhat speechless in terms of how to respond to his companions—“He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.”
Clearly, this event shook the apostles; stopping them in their tracks, and reshaping the manner in which they would receive and respond to what was to come, whether consciously or subconsciously. While it seems fitting that the occurrence would happen on a mountain top, what happened would have been a life altering experience, regardless of where it took place or how it was understood at the time. In the Transfiguration of Jesus, eyes were wide open and seeds were firmly planted.
Oftentimes, the Divine is overlooked, dismissed, forgotten, or left behind simply because it’s easier, more convenient, or perhaps preferred, to believe and hold onto experiences that happen where and how one might expect them to occur. Yet, God is not deterred. On that evening so long ago, I remember being shaken and stirred. I also remember the deafening silence all the way home. And in that, the memory etched… to return, here and there. Only with time, and a lot of it, could I see that God was with us that night.
How patient God is! A reminder of the opportunity that openness to the wisdom of each moment, whether it is here and now, in the past, or yet to come, brings. No matter the locale or the emotions an experience evokes, God is with us, with a desire to take hold, to call us forward, and to help us remember as we do, the wisdom that is all around us.
Jesus took Peter, James, and John
and led them up a high mountain apart by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them,
and his clothes became dazzling white,
such as no fuller on earth could bleach them.
Then Elijah appeared to them along with Moses,
and they were conversing with Jesus.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply,
“Rabbi, it is good that we are here!
Let us make three tents:
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”
He hardly knew what to say, they were so terrified.
Then a cloud came, casting a shadow over them;
from the cloud came a voice,
“This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”
Suddenly, looking around, they no longer saw anyone
but Jesus alone with them.
As they were coming down from the mountain,
he charged them not to relate what they had seen to anyone,
except when the Son of Man had risen from the dead.
So they kept the matter to themselves,
questioning what rising from the dead meant. – Mk 9:2-10