Sunday Before Lent Sermon
Theme
On the Mountain Before the Valley
Texts
Exodus 24.12-18
2 Peter 1.16-21
Matthew 17:1-9
Introduction
If you have lived in Mallorca for any length of time, your knowledge of
the Island will depend on where you are standing.
In the height of summer, Palma can feel
crowded and breathless. In the airport in August, there is noise and urgency everywhere.
In the middle
of the tourist season, many work
long hours, carrying both opportunity and exhaustion in equal measure. And yet, if you
climb into the Tramuntana mountains early in the morning or evening as the sun sets, everything looks
different. The villages below appear small. The horizon stretches wide and
calm. What felt overwhelming at sea level seems, at least for a moment, placed
in perspective. The mountain does
not remove reality; it reframes it. This morning the Church takes us up a mountain with Jesus. And it is no
accident that this happens just before Lent begins. Before we walk with Christ
toward Jerusalem, before we mark our foreheads with ashes, before we meditate
upon the cross, we are first given a vision of glory.
Exegesis the Text
Matthew tells us that Jesus
takes Peter, James, and John and leads them up a high mountain by themselves. Throughout Scripture, mountains are places of encounter. It was on a
mountain that Abraham was tested. On a mountain that Moses met God. On a
mountain that Elijah heard the still, small voice. Mountains
are places where heaven and earth seem to draw near. And on
this mountain, Jesus is transfigured before them. His face shines like the sun; his clothes become dazzling white. The veil
is drawn back, just for a moment, and the disciples see what has always been
true: the glory of God dwells in him.Then Moses and Elijah appear,
speaking with him. The
Law and the Prophets stand beside him not as equals, but as witnesses. Everything Israel has
received, everything promised and proclaimed, converges here. The covenant
given through Moses, the fiery zeal of Elijah, the long history of God’s
faithfulness, all of it points toward Christ. Peter,
overwhelmed, suggested: “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I
will make three tents.” We can hardly blame him. Who would not wish to remain
in such a moment? Who would not try to preserve it? Yet while he is still
speaking, a bright cloud overshadows them, and
a voice from the cloud
declares, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him.”. The cloud recalls
Sinai. In our reading from Exodus, Moses ascends the mountain, and the
glory of the Lord settles upon it.
The cloud covers it for six days; on the seventh day God calls to Moses from
the midst of the cloud. There, Israel receives the Law — the shape of its
covenant life with God.
But on the mountain of the Transfiguration, the cloud
does
not simply conceal divine glory; it reveals its fulfilment. The voice does not say, “Listen to Moses.” It does not say, “Listen to Elijah.” It says, “Listen to him.” The
authority of the Law and the Prophets is gathered up and completed in Jesus Christ. The glory that once
rested upon Sinai now shines from the face of the Son.
And yet, even here,
the purpose is not to remain on the mmountain. The disciples fall on their faces in fear, but Jesus comes
and touches them.
“Rise, and do not be afraid.” When they lift up their eyes, they see no one but
Jesus only. The vision fades. The moment passes. And they descend the mountain.
It is important to remember
what comes next
in Matthew’s Gospel.
Immediately before this passage, Jesus
speaks plainly about
his coming suffering and death. Immediately after,
he does so again. The Transfiguration
stands between these predictions of the Passion. It is a gift given
in advance of trial. A strengthening before scandal. A revelation of glory
before the humiliation of the cross
This why the Church places this Gospel before us on the Sunday
before Lent. In a few
days’ time, we shall
begin our Lenten pilgrimage: a
season of penitence, self- examination, fasting, and prayer.
We shall walk with
Christ toward Gethsemane and Calvary.
And the Church, in her wisdom,
will not allow
us to begin that journey without
first reminding us who this Jesus is.
The one who will be betrayed is the beloved Son.
The one who will hang in darkness is the one whose face shines like the
sun.
The one who will be mocked as king is the Lord of glory.
Without
the mountain, the cross might seem defeated.
With
the mountain, we know it is mystery and victory.
In our Epistle, Peter reflects upon this very event.
Writing years later, amid doubt and questioning, he insists: “We did not
follow cleverly
devised myths… but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.”
The memory
of that mountain
sustained him. It confirmed the prophetic word.
It anchored
faith when circumstances were dark
Contextual Application
Here in Mallorca, we know something
about mountains and valleys.
We know beauty that draws the world to our shores. We also know the quiet struggles that do not appear on postcards:
economic uncertainty, rising costs of living,
loneliness
during the winter months, the strain of seasonal work, families far from their
countries of origin.
Life here can feel, at times,
like standing at sea level amid
noise and pressure.
God does not remove us from such realities.
But he gives us mountain
moments.
In worship, when Scripture
speaks clearly.
In the
Eucharist, when Christ gives himself to us. In prayer,
when the heart
is stilled.
In the
splendour of creation,
when light breaks
over the
sea.
They are strengthenings.
They are given so that we may descend again to our work, our homes, our
responsibilities bearing within us the knowledge of Christ’s glory.
And at the heart of the vision comes that simple command:
“Listen to him.”
In a world of
many competing voices: political, economic, digital, and cultural, the Church hears again the Father’s
command.
Listen to the Son.
Listen
to his call to repentance as Lent approaches. Listen to his summons to
forgiveness and generosity. Listen to his promise: “Do not be afraid.”
Conclusion
begin
our Lenten descent toward the cross. But we do not go unprepared.
We go
having seen with the eyes of faith the radiance of the Son.
We go
knowing that beyond the shadow of the Passion lies the brightness of Easter
morning.
And when we find ourselves in valleys, whether of doubt, weariness, or
sorrow we may remember the mountain. We may remember that glory
is real, that Christ reigns,
and
that the light shines in the darkness, and the
darkness has not overcome it.
Amen
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