Listen to Him
Scripture Reading: Mark 9:2-9
About 25 years ago my band, The Regressives, were playing a gig in our hometown. We didn’t play Connecticut very often, much less Stratford, so this was an opportunity to perform in front of friends and family. The venue was the Frog Pond, a once notorious dive bar with rumored mob connections. (It’s since been renovated and rebranded as an upscale whiskey bar.)
All was going well, that is, until we reached the bridge of a song titled “Moonshot Marigold.” My band was a three-piece (guitar, bass, drums), so if one of us made a mistake, there wasn’t much room to hide it—no keyboards, no horn section, no backup singers. As we enter the bridge, I notice that the bass player, Giancarlo, isn’t with us. He’s still playing the chorus.
From behind my drums, I look over at Jeff, the guitarist, who is casting one furtive glance after another at Giancarlo with increasing intensity, waiting for him to awaken from whatever daydream he’s having. Jeff is now turning his head back and forth as though he’s watching a tennis match while Giancarlo is blissfully unaware of the disaster that’s unfolding. Finally, in frustration Jeff screams at Giancarlo to play an E!
That is my main memory of that particular hometown gig—Jeff screaming over the roar of the amplifiers to get Giancarlo to play an E. I don’t mean to pick on Giancarlo. This incident was a one-off. He simply got lost in his own world for a bit because he wasn’t listening to his bandmates.
Yet listening is essential to being a disciple of Jesus Christ.
It may seem counterintuitive, but the ability to listen well is one of the most important skills a musician can have. You develop technique through endless hours of practicing in your room by yourself, but you become musical when you learn how to listen to what others are playing. Being in a band is about finding your space in and among what your bandmates are playing.
Listening, in music and in life, is an unappreciated skill. Listening is not often celebrated. There are no famous listeners. Our society prizes speaking and making your voice heard, not listening. If anything, in an era of self-promotion and personal branding, listening is profoundly countercultural.
Yet listening is essential to being a disciple of Jesus Christ. In today’s reading from Mark, as Jesus is transfigured in the presence of Peter, James, and John, the voice of God breaks through the clouds and proclaims, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!”
After three straight weeks in chapter 1 of Mark, today we jump ahead all the way to chapter 9. That’s not because I’m impatient, which is hardly possible with Mark. As we’ve seen, Mark speeds along at an almost dizzying pace. No, it’s because of where we are in the church calendar, which is on the verge of Lent, which begins this Wednesday. This final Sunday before Lent is known as Transfiguration Sunday. It’s a transitional Sunday between the light of Epiphany, which we’re leaving, and the shadow of Lent, which we’ll soon enter.
“Transfiguration,” you say? What’s that? It’s a fancy way of describing a complete change in the appearance of something—a kind of metamorphosis. In fact, the Greek word Mark uses essentially is “metamorphosis.” For Christians, the Transfiguration refers to the change in Jesus’s appearance atop the mountain as the light of heaven shines from him and he is revealed to be more than a rabbi or a prophet but rather the Son of God.
The passage begins with Jesus leading Peter, James, and John—apart from the rest of the disciples—up a high mountain. Peter, James, and John form an inner circle among the disciples. This is one of three occasions where Jesus pulls them aside to accompany him in a more intimate way.
But hold on! Let’s back up a second. The passage actually begins, “Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John and led them up a high mountain….” This begs the question: Six days after what?
Six days earlier Jesus had let the disciples in on a little secret. He had told them that what awaited him in Jerusalem was not celebration and triumph but suffering and death. He would not be crowned king but crucified as a criminal.
This was too much for Peter. He pulled Jesus aside and rebuked him for saying something so outrageous, something so offensive! What’s all this talk about suffering and dying? That’s not what the others and I signed up for! That’s not why I left my fishing net to follow you. Please, no more of this crazy talk!
Say what you will about Peter, he did not lack for audacity. Nevertheless, for his rebuke of Jesus, Peter was in turn rebuked by Jesus, who called him no less than “Satan” and a “stumbling block.” Then, so as not to leave any doubt about the nature of his mission, Jesus addressed all of the disciples, along with the crowds that had followed him, and laid it out for everyone in the plainest of terms: “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 find it” (Mk. 8:34-35).
I want us to have this incident in the back of our minds as we now look to the transfiguration that takes place up on the mountain. Mark, as is his wont, gets right to it and writes that Jesus “was transfigured before them.” His clothes become blindingly white—whiter than anyone could “brighten” them. It’s funny. Earlier translations often say “whiter than anyone could bleach them.” Maybe the translators don’t want us to picture a big jug of Clorox.
Alongside Jesus appear Moses and Elijah. Then Peter, seeing Jesus in the presence of such esteemed company, offers to set up three tents. After all, if company is coming over, it’s only polite to show them hospitality. But you get the sense that Peter is not so much hospitable as he is nervous. He has a nervous energy, like when you’re frightened and start doing busywork because you don’t know what to do but you need to do something. Likewise, some people, when they’re nervous or frightened, become uncontrollably chatty to the point of babbling. Mark tells us that Peter did not know what to say, for he was terrified.
With good reason, I’d say. First it’s the light. So radiant is the light that surrounds Jesus that Peter probably has to shield his eyes. It’s as if the light of the star that hung over Bethlehem announcing Jesus’s birth now emanates directly from him.
Then comes the voice. A cloud overshadows the disciples, and from the cloud the voice of God declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved.” If Peter were not already terrified, he’d be quaking in his sandals at this point, but not because he’s being addressed by God.
Listening to Jesus. That is the primary task of a disciple. Everything else is secondary. Evangelism is secondary. Social justice is secondary. Even the church itself is secondary.
Up until this point, Peter has had a working understanding of Jesus as a teacher, a healer, an exorcist, and a prophet. But the transfiguration of Jesus atop this mountain literally shines a light on the true nature of Jesus’s identity. This is the Son of God! This is the Holy One of Israel in the flesh. This is the God who spoke through the burning bush, who parted the Red Sea, who gave the Ten Commandments, and who brought down the walls of Jericho.
That’s almost too much for Peter to take in! He struggles to make sense of it. It’s no surprise, then, that he would try to cling to the old reality. This he does by still calling Jesus “Rabbi” (meaning “teacher”) and by treating him as equal with Moses and Elijah. “Let us set up three tents,” he says to Jesus: “one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Moses and Elijah represent the law and the prophets, respectively, but Jesus himself is the fulfillment of the law. Jesus himself is the voice who spoke through the prophets. Jesus is not the equal of Moses and Elijah; he stands above them. Peter still doesn’t get it.
And so God has one more word for Peter and his companions: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him.” Listen to him! Stop talking, Peter! Stop running around! Stop what you are doing and listen!
Listening to Jesus. That is the primary task of a disciple. Everything else is secondary. Evangelism is secondary. Social justice is secondary. Even the church itself is secondary. What matters most is listening to Jesus.
Okay, fine. What does Jesus say?
That’s the interesting thing about this passage. Did you notice? Jesus doesn’t speak…not a word. Peter speaks. God speaks. But as for Jesus, while we’re told that he commanded the disciples not to say a word of what they had witnessed on the mountain, we never hear from him directly. Then why does God tell Peter, and through Peter us as well, to listen to Jesus?
This is when I’d like us to recall what I had asked us to keep in mind earlier when reading this passage—that Jesus has already told the disciples that the road he is on, and on which they follow, is leading to the cross. But before Jesus descends into the valley of the shadow of death, he first ascends to the peak of glory in the presence of his three closest disciples. He does this so that they will know who it is that goes to be crucified—not only Jesus of Nazareth the man, but God’s own Son, the Beloved.
In the Transfiguration Jesus says to us—without saying a word—that the God of power and might will gladly empty himself of all power to save his own beloved—that being you. And that’s not all he says, if we would only listen to him. Listen to Jesus say, “I have loved you since before you were born.” Listen to Jesus say, “It’s alright. You are forgiven.” Listen to Jesus say, “Follow me.”