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Transfiguration Sunday

2 Kings 2
When the Lord was about to take Elijah up to heaven in a whirlwind, Elijah and Elisha were on their way from Gilgal. 2 Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to Bethel.”
But Elisha said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So they went down to Bethel.
3 The company of the prophets at Bethel came out to Elisha and asked, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?”
“Yes, I know,” Elisha replied, “so be quiet.”
4 Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here, Elisha; the Lord has sent me to Jericho.”
And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So they went to Jericho.
5 The company of the prophets at Jericho went up to Elisha and asked him, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?”
“Yes, I know,” he replied, “so be quiet.”
6 Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.”
And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So the two of them walked on.


It’s an unlikely thing really, having a stained-glass copy of of one of the greatest paintings of the Italian High Renaissance hanging in your narthex.

You passed it on your way in, framed and placed against a frosty window, showing Jesus with his arms in the air. And until you see it alongside a copy of Raphael’s Transfiguration, you might not immediately see the inspiration for the design. (In other churches, this would be the moment that we show the painting on a screen, but since I’m convinced that PowerPoint in church is the Devil’s work, that won’t be happening).

So we use our imagination. It’s a tall painting (around 13’) with the Transfiguration in the upper frame, including Jesus, Moses, Elijah and the cowering disciples. In the lower frame is a portrayal of Jesus healing a demon-possessed boy (Matthew 17), a healing that was initially botched by the twelve and then successfully completed by a clearly annoyed Jesus. It seems Raphael was doing a little visual preaching, but more on that in a moment.

The other interesting parallel between our High Renaissance Jesus and the one in the Vatican Museum is the all the traveling that took place before each work found a home. Our narthex Jesus began at Silverthorn, lived happily in Mount Dennis for many years, and eventually found refuge here.

Raphael’s great work was commissioned in Rome but meant for a French cathedral, until the artist died during the last stages of completing the painting. The grieving Romans decided to keep it, but the French didn’t forget. Napoleon did what everyone does when they try to take over Europe, and moved the painting to Paris. It was such a favourite that Napoleon had his wedding reception in the same room as his stolen Raphael. And after the Duke of Wellington persuaded Napoleon to see the error of his ways, the painting went back to Rome.

And while the Transfiguration was Napoleon’s favourite, most art historians agree that The School of Athens is his greatest work. Completed when he was just 28 years of age, this fresco ‘embodies the spirit of the High Renaissance’ and made his contemporaries more than a little jealous. The older (and established) Michelangelo even claimed that the younger painter was copying his work in the Sistine Chapel. Such is the tension between generations of artists, one attempting to claim the mantle of another.

Going back then to Raphael’s Transfiguration—his visual sermon—we see some of the same tension. He represents the fear of the disciples, shielding their eyes from the great light above, and then the eye moves to the chaotic scene below. The scene is prompted by the father’s plea, saying “I brought [my boy] to your disciples, but they couldn’t heal him.” Then Raphael gives us a visual representation of a moment in time, the conclusion of the passage:

“You unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus said, “how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy here to me.” Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed at that moment.

Our theme, it seems, is problems with succession, with artists fighting, disciples cowering before Jesus, Moses and Elijah, and the disciples failing to do the work of healing and casting out demons that they were called to do (Luke 9). Transitions are indeed difficult, with none better described than that other story of Elijah, the story of his departure.

But before we see the chariot of fire that carries Elijah away, we should do a George Stroumboulopoulos-type recap of Elijah: Regarded as one of the greatest prophets in Judaism, Christianity and Islam, Elijah stands for powerful opposition to other gods. His defeat of the priests of Baal in 2 Kings 18 is perhaps the most conspicuous example of calling on God to make a point.

And his legacy doesn’t end there. Elijah is equal to Moses and Jesus at the Transfiguration, demonstrating the great light of God’s abiding presence. And in the Jewish faith, Elijah is seen as both the harbinger of Messiah’s arrival, and an ongoing witness to the faith of Israel. In 1 Kings 18, Elijah complains to God that he is last living person of faith. Rabbis down to today set out to prove that this is not true—that they are keeping the covenant—and so they set out “Elijah’s chair” at every circumcision just to prove it.

We also begin to see some of the pressure on poor Elisha as the mantle is being prepared to pass. It is obvious that the end is coming for the great Elijah, and he embarks of a bit of farewell tour. And in a passage that is somewhat reminiscent Ruth and Naomi, Elisha is staying close in a way bordering on clingy:

Elijah said to Elisha, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to Bethel.” But Elisha said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So they went down to Bethel.
4 Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here, Elisha; the Lord has sent me to Jericho.” And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So they went to Jericho.
6 Then Elijah said to him, “Stay here; the Lord has sent me to the Jordan.” And he replied, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So the two of them walked on.

And between each of these pledges of loyalty is a reminder that the end of the road is coming: “The company of the prophets...asked, “Do you know that the Lord is going to take your master from you today?”
“Yes, I know,” Elisha replied, “so be quiet.”

This will not be an easy transition. Elisha is anxious and angry, afraid to lose his mentor and perhaps equally afraid to try to live up to his example. This becomes obvious when we get to the three-wishes part of the story, which sadly for Elisha is only one wish:

Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me, what can I do for you before I am taken from you?”
“Let me inherit a double portion of your spirit,” Elisha replied “You have asked a difficult thing,” Elijah said, “yet if you see me when I am taken from you, it will be yours—otherwise, it will not.”

The outcome of the passage is unclear, but the rather cryptic “Elisha saw him no more” seems to indicate that he saw Elijah taken up and consequently inherited the double-portion. But this too is unclear, based on the narrative that follows. Elisha does some important things—things long remembered—including the healing of Naaman the Leper, but he is a shadow of his mentor Elijah.

And maybe this simply part of the overall story of succession. Raphael, dead at 37, never fully approaches to great Michelangelo. The disciples, cowering and confused, thinking first that they will make shrines to Jesus, Moses and Elijah, never fully grasp the Transfiguration, that powerful demonstration of God’s power. And later, unable to fulfill the promise of healing, the disciples fall into confusion and suffer a harsh rebuke.

So what do we learn from these examples, as heirs and successors of the disciples of Jesus? What hope do we have to harness the power of God and transform a weary world? More hope than it would seem at first, mostly because God continues to do the work.

No, we can’t call down fire like Elijah, and we can’t drive out demons like Jesus, but we can witness to the light of the Transfiguration, and we can proclaim the words God spoke that day: "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" (Mark 9)

Our succession story is pointing to the transforming power of Jesus the Christ in the heart of every believer: the power to forgive, the power to challenge those who oppress others, the power to live with love and mercy. We received this gift from imperfect vessels and in our imperfection we pass them on. And through it all the Transfiguring light of Jesus shines through, casting pure light in the shadow places of our lives, now and always, amen.

posted by michael jacob kooiman @ 6:15 AM