Sermon for the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, Year B

Isaac Williams, 1802-1865

II Kings 2:1-12
Mark 9:2-9

In 1837, Isaac Williams, a priest of the Church of England and one of the leaders of the Oxford Movement, published Tract Number Eighty of Tracts for the Times. The Tract was titled, “On Reserve in Communicating Religious Knowledge.” It caused quite a storm of controversy at the time, and established what became known as “the principle of reserve” as a key tenet of Anglo-Catholic teaching.

Briefly, the principle of reserve suggests that some mysteries of the Christian faith are so sublime and holy that they are best not talked about too openly, too publicly, or too casually, in settings where they’re apt to be not only rejected but also blasphemously ridiculed and reviled. Instead, such teachings are best left unmentioned except in hushed tones of reverence and respect.

Over and against the Evangelicals of the era, who had taken to preaching Christ’s Death, Resurrection, and Second Coming on street corners and in open-air marketplaces – often before hostile crowds who responded with catcalls and even projectiles – Williams advocated a restrained and graduated approach. Preachers, teachers, and catechists should progressively reveal the deepest and most sublime truths of the faith to potential converts only as they were ready to receive them.

Williams buttressed his argument with numerous illustrations from Scripture. It’s always seemed to me that today’s Gospel contains an archetypal example of the principle of reserve where it records that after the Transfiguration, as they were coming down the mountain, Jesus charged the disciples Peter, James, and John to tell no-one what they had seen, until the Son of Man should have risen from the dead.

Today’s readings are shot through with mystery. The Old Testament story of the assumption of the prophet Elijah, from the Second Book of the Kings, sets the stage for the Gospel. Since Elijah did not die but was taken up into heaven, he remains alive with God and thus appears on the holy mountain with Moses and Jesus in the light of divine glory.

The death of Moses, as well, is an event shrouded in mystery. The Book of Deuteronomy records that at the end of the Hebrews’ forty years of wandering in the Wilderness, Moses ascended Mount Nebo, in full view of the Promised Land, and there died. The Lord himself buried Moses, the narrative continues, and no one knows the place of his burial. By New Testament times, however, the tradition had grown up that Moses had not died but had been taken up into heaven – a view propounded in such apocryphal works as the Assumption of Moses.

Moreover, the tradition had also developed that the return of either Elijah or Moses or both would signal the arrival of the Messianic age. So the prophets of Israel had foretold. The Book of Malachi included the prophecy, “Behold, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes.” And before he died, Moses himself had told the Israelites, “The Lord your God will raise up a prophet like me from among you, from among your brethren – him you shall heed.”

So, when Peter, James, and John witness the spectacle of Jesus transfigured with the brightness of divine glory, and Moses and Elijah with him, the message is clear. Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the Anointed One of God. He is the One destined to bring about the reign of God on earth. So the voice from heaven confirms: “This is my beloved Son; listen to him.”

Most likely, as Peter, James, and John are coming down off the mountain they want nothing more than to proclaim what they have seen and heard: to the rest of the Twelve, to all the disciples, and to the multitudes far and wide. But then, to their surprise, Jesus enjoins silence. “He charged them to tell no one what they had seen, until the Son of Man should have risen from the dead.”

Why this divine gag order? The most likely reason is that while Peter, James, and John have seen a vision of overwhelming power and significance, they are not yet properly equipped to interpret the vision’s meaning.

The Transfiguration comes seven days after Peter has confessed Jesus to be the Messiah. Yet when Jesus immediately thereafter began to teach that he must suffer many things, and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, Peter began to rebuke him, drawing in turn the Lord’s rebuke, “Get behind me Satan, for you are not on the side of God but of men.”

Again, shortly after the Transfiguration, Mark records that Jesus was traveling through Galilee teaching his disciples that “the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him; and when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” But, says Mark, “they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to ask him”

A bit later, as they are on the road going up to Jerusalem, Jesus predicts his death and resurrection a third time, and in more detail than before: “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and deliver him to the Gentiles; and they will mock him, and scourge him, and spit upon him, and kill him; and after three days he will rise.” But the disciples still don’t get it; and the depth of their incomprehension is evident in the request of James and John to sit one at his right and one at his left in his glory.

James and John, remember, were both present at the Transfiguration. For the moment, all they can see is the promise of divine glory of which they have received an anticipatory glimpse. Despite the Lord’s repeated warnings and admonitions, they still don’t grasp that before they can share in the glory of God’s Kingdom, they must first follow Jesus in the Way of the Cross. That is why the Lord charged them as they were coming down the mountain to say nothing of what they had seen until the Son of Man should have risen from the dead. Apart from the cross, the story of who Jesus is cannot be fully told. In this case, the principle of reserve means refraining of speaking of things not only that the hearers are not yet ready to hear, but also that the teachers are not yet ready to teach.

The assumption of Elijah in today’s Old Testament reading anticipates the ultimate ascension and glorification of Jesus, towards which the Transfiguration in today’s Gospel likewise points forward. For the disciples, as for us, the Transfiguration is a glimpse of a promised future but not yet the possession of that future. So, after today’s celebration, on Wednesday we begin the observance of Lent, by which the Church annually reminds us that before we can enter into the glory of Christ’s Kingdom, we must first climb with him another mountain, that of Golgotha.