Get Up; Do Not Be Afraid

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DI0eQdPOGn8

Gospel

THE HOLY GOSPEL OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

ACCORDING TO MATTHEW

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."

MATTHEW 17:1-9

Sermon: The Rev. Dr. Maryann Amor

Jesus has just predicted his death. He has told his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, suffer many things, be killed, and on the third day be raised. Peter immediately pushes back: “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” And Jesus rebukes him sharply, calling him a stumbling block. Then he turns to all the disciples and says: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me.”

Six days later — after those hard words about suffering and the cross — today’s Gospel begins.

Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain, and there they have a vision. Jesus is changed; he glows with light. Moses and Elijah appear. A voice speaks from the cloud: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.” And when the disciples hear this, they fall face down on the ground, terrified.

And then comes a detail we can easily pass over: Jesus comes to them. He touches them. And he says, “Get up. Do not be afraid.”

Often, this story is interpreted as an epiphany moment when Jesus’ “true identity” is revealed — as if, for a brief moment, the divine Jesus shines through the human one. As if the humanity were just a covering, and this glowing moment shows us who Jesus really is.

But that reading misses something important. Because the voice from heaven does not say, “Look at him.” It does not say, “Now you see who Jesus is — he is not human at all.” Instead the voice from heaven says, “Listen to him.”

Listen to him. Listen to what he has already been saying. Listen to the hard words about Jerusalem. Listen to the prediction of suffering that Peter found so difficult. Listen to the command to take up your cross. Listen to the call to lose your life in order to find it.

The glory on the mountain does not stop or prevent the road to the cross. It confirms that Jesus must be taken seriously. It confirms that the hard road ahead is not a mistake, but God’s way.

And maybe that is why the disciples fall to the ground. Not simply because they are overcome by the light, the vision of the transfiguration, but because they are beginning to understand. The voice from heaven affirms that all Jesus has just spoken about suffering and death is true. The God who declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved,” is also the God who says, “Listen to him” — God is pointing the disciples forward to all Jesus has predicted, even when what he has predicted is terrifying.

The disciples fall down because they realize this is real. None of this will be easy. Following Jesus will mean walking fully into the human condition — including all its pain and cost. Their beloved friend will suffer and die. And they will not be spared from fear, grief, or confusion either.

And notice how Jesus responds to their fear.

He does not explain the theology of glory or tell them to go do some research, read all the books on the topic. He does not map out the resurrection timeline or lecture them. He does not demand stronger faith. Instead, he touches them.

He goes to them and meets them where they are — frightened, overwhelmed, face down on the ground — and he speaks to them with human words and human tenderness: “Get up. Do not be afraid.”

The Transfiguration is not showing us a Jesus who escapes the world, who hides away on the mountain to avoid what he knows is coming. It shows us a Jesus who is fully part of reality. A Jesus whose divinity does not erase his humanity. A Jesus in whom God’s glory is revealed not instead of human life, but through it — through a life that will suffer, through a life that will die.

As we move towards Lent, this matters.

Because the Transfiguration is not inviting us to escape what is coming. It is not telling us to deny everything. Instead, it is preparation. It tells us to listen — to take seriously everything Jesus says about suffering, about loss, about love that costs something.

And it tells us something else: when we are overwhelmed, when we fall down under the weight of it all, Jesus does not withdraw.

I know many of you have seen the news coming out of Tumbler Ridge — a school shooting so close to home. When violence feels that near, when children are involved, when we think of our own kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews, the world can suddenly feel so fragile. It shakes our sense of safety. It makes the future feel uncertain, like our lives could change forever in a split second.

Sometimes life does feel too heavy. Sometimes we do fall to the ground under the weight of grief or fear. Sometimes prayer does not immediately change anything. Sometimes God can feel silent.

The comfort of this Gospel is not that everything that hurts us will magically be taken away. It is not that we can climb a mountain and stay there, untouched by reality. The comfort is presence.

The comfort is that the same Jesus who shines with glory is the one who walks toward suffering. The one who understands fear. The one who touches the disciples’ shaking shoulders — our shaking shoulders — and gently says, “Get up. Do not be afraid.”

Jesus does not leave reality behind. He stays within it. And because he stays within it, so does God.

So as we look to Lent, as we prepare once more to walk the journey to the cross that begins on Ash Wednesday, remember this: when life feels too heavy, when we are overwhelmed or burdened, God does not abandon us. The same Jesus who shines on the mountain is the same Jesus who will hang on the cross. In both glory and suffering, God is present — right beside us, gently saying, “Get up. Do not be afraid.”