I remember with absolute clarity the moment I found out that my mother was going to die. It was in early January of 1994. She was in surgery for the third time in three years. My father and I were waiting in her hospital room, a ritual we were getting pretty good at. Finally, the surgeon came in with the words, “We couldn’t get it all.” From that moment on, we knew that, sooner rather than later, the cancer was going to take my mother’s life.
It’s a hard thing, a terrible thing, to learn that someone you love is going to die. And that is where the disciples found themselves just prior to the scripture lesson for today. It all started with a powerful exchange between Jesus and Peter just six days earlier. There had been a lot of confusion and discussion among the crowds who followed Jesus, and also among the twelve disciples, about who Jesus really was. Some said he might be John the Baptist come back from the dead. Other people suggested that he was Elijah or Jeremiah or another one of the prophets who had come to see if he might have any better success the second time around. Jesus was aware of all the rumors. And he knew that it was crucial what his disciples believed about him. So Jesus asked them one day, “Who do you say that I am?” I can almost hear the silence. And then finally, Peter, never at a loss for words, managed to say, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Peter’s answer was a profession of faith, and Jesus had to have been relieved that at least one of them got it.
Soon after that experience, Jesus knew that the time had come for him to explain to his disciples what was going to happen to him because he was the Christ. He told them that he had to go to Jerusalem, where he would suffer at the hands of the religious authorities, and then be put to death, but that he would rise from the dead on the third day. This was not something that the disciples wanted to hear. It must have upset them in the same way that news of my mother’s impending death upset me. They were, after all, Jesus’ closest friends, and he had just told them that he was going to die. So Peter took Jesus aside and tried to convince him that there must be some alternate plan. But Jesus let Peter know in no uncertain terms that this was going to be the way things happened. And he told them that the future of the disciples wasn’t going to be much better. Jesus told them, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
These were hard words for the disciples to hear. How could they possibly face such a future? Where would they find the strength to follow Jesus to the cross and beyond? How could they go on without him?
Into the depths of such feelings of dread and anxiety and fear and grief, the story of the Transfiguration of Jesus intruded itself. Matthew says that this event took place six days later. Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him up on a high mountain, probably Mount Hermon, which was over 9400 feet high. It could be seen from the Dead Sea, over a hundred miles away. And while they were up on that mountain, Jesus was transfigured, which means changed in outward appearance. Jesus’ face shone like the sun and his clothes became bright as light. Then Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus, representing the Law and the Prophets. A bright cloud surrounded them. And a voice came out of the cloud, “This is my son, whom I love. I am well pleased with him. Listen to him.”
This experience was overwhelming to the three disciples. They fell on their faces, absolutely scared to death. But when it was all over, Jesus came and put his hand on their shoulders and told them there was nothing to be afraid of. And they went back down the mountain into the real world.
Of course, if given a choice, they probably would have preferred to stay up there on the mountain. Peter even suggested it. After all, there they could see so clearly who Jesus was, thanks to the special effects along the lines of Cecil B. DeMille. They could see the light on Jesus’ face, they could hear the voice of God from the cloud, and they could stay safely away from death and crosses to bear down below. But they couldn’t stay on the mountaintop. You can’t really live on the mountaintops in life; you can only go there to find strength for following Jesus through the valley of the shadow.
There are countless testimonies to the way that God has powerfully strengthened his children who are in need. This is a power you cannot see or touch or quantify. You only feel it when you most need it. It is a spiritual power. Angelo Patri writes, “Spiritual power is a hidden power, locked in the silence of the soul. We cannot force it to come at command of will. But when in extremity our strength is as water, our will as the sighing of the wind, when we yield all physical being and lean hard on the spiritual strength within us, the soul’s strength rises to assure us as the sun rises over the rim of night. This spiritual strength is our inheritance, the eternal power granted us at the Creation. It is God’s breath within us. On that strength we can go forward, we can take whatever comes and know it is well with us always.”
Maybe that kind of strength seems impossible to you. Maybe you wonder if it is real, or just some nice-sounding platitude offered to comfort those who are tired and alone and afraid. But I know – I really know – this spiritual power is real. And it has gotten people through difficult times and losses too big for me to even begin to comprehend.
One example is the story of Horatio Spafford, a Christian lawyer who lived in Chicago in the late 19th century. In 1873, Spafford put his wife and four children on a luxury liner that was sailing from New York to France. He expected to join them in another three or four weeks, after taking care of some urgent business. The trip started out beautifully. But on the evening of November 21, as the liner moved peacefully across the water, it was suddenly struck by another ship. It sank in just thirty minutes, with the loss of nearly everyone on board.
When she was told that the ship was sinking, Mrs. Spafford gathered her children around her, and together they knelt and prayed that they might either be saved or be made willing to die, if that was God’s will. A few minutes later, in the panic and confusion, three of the children were swept away by the waves. Then the youngest child was carried overboard by the water. Mrs. Spafford lost consciousness, but was rescued by sailors from the other ship. But all four of her children were gone.
Back in the United States, Horatio Spafford was waiting for news of his family. At last, ten days later, he received word from his wife. “Saved alone,” was all her message said. That night, Spafford paced the floor of his room in anguish. But then, as he poured out his grief and shared his loss with God, he began to feel a peace in his heart, a peace that passes all understanding. He told a friend later, “I am glad to be able to trust in my Lord when it costs me something.”
Sometime later, as Horatio Spafford reflected on his terrible loss, he wrote a hymn that I am sure you are familiar with:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea-billows roll;
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.
How can you and I find this kind of faith and trust? Where do we find this kind of strength when we are walking through the valleys of loss and death and fear and stress? We have to remember what it was like on the mountaintop, those times when we felt close to Jesus Christ and knew him for who he really is, when we felt the power of his love. When did you feel closest to God? When were you most aware of God’s presence? Go back to those times in your mind and reclaim the strength and the assurance that you found in them.
Another way you find strength is through the words of the Bible. I have certain passages that I read when I feel weak and afraid:
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid. Psalm 27:1
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1
They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31
What are the scripture verses that give you strength? Think about them when you are facing hard times. It will give you spiritual power.
Another way to find strength for the journey is to immerse yourself in the Christian community, the church. Often it is through the arms of another church member that you feel God holding you, and it is through the voice of another person that you hear God’s words of comfort and reassurance. Knowing that there are people around you who care about you, who are there for you in good times and in bad, is very much a powerful way of reinforcing your own spiritual strength.
I would like to close with a video of a performance of an anthem written by Mark Miller, a United Methodist musician. If you have attended Annual Conference the last couple of years, you will remember that he has been our music leader. This piece of music is based on a poem that was discovered at the end of World War II. Some Allied troops were searching homes and farms in Cologne, Germany, looking for snipers. They came to an abandoned house, which had been reduced to little more than rubble. In the basement, they discovered a Star of David scratched into the wall by Jews who had hidden there, and below the star were these words:
I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining.
I believe in love even when I can’t feel it.
I believe in God even when he is silent.
That is the kind of faith that gets us through even the worst moments in our lives. That is the kind of faith that comes when we remember the transfiguration of Jesus. That is the kind of faith that draws upon the spiritual power of God placed within our souls.
Listen now as the Northern Lights Chorale sings I Believe in the Sun:
I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining.
I believe in love even when I can’t feel it.
I believe in God even when God is silent.
