Tabernacle

“ And it came to pass, as they departed from him, Peter said unto Jesus, Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias: not knowing what he said. While he thus spake, there came a cloud, and overshadowed them: and they feared as they entered into the cloud. And there came a voice out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son: hear him. ”

Just a glimpse, a peek was all that was required to see and know that Jesus was not just another man. Yet their eyes were not witness enough to slow minds, a mountaintop experience not sufficient to overcome their expectations of something less, much less, of God.

We expect so little, really. Why should it surprise us, that the great apostle Peter should look at the transfigured Christ standing in the presence of Moses and Elijah, and think this was reason to establish a memorial chapel, a tent of meeting, a roadside attraction, a place of pilgrimage. Without any understanding of Christian theology, of the completed work of Christ, how could Peter understand what was happening and what these men were discussing?

We expect so little, really, because that is our experience —for the most part. We expect that every morning the sun comes up, and that therefore the sun will come up every morning. But if one morning the sun never came up, would we conclude that God was speaking to us, or would we call NASA, the police department, the newspaper, or the FBI for an explanation of this phenomenon? We expect no miracles, no transformations, no rising and walking of the lame, no raising of the dead—in fact that would be most alarming and distressing. When Lazarus rose from his tomb at the word of Jesus, the priests in Jerusalem actually held a conspiratorial meeting to see how they might put the dead man back in the grave to silence this raging outbreak of religious attraction to Jesus, their competition, their foe.

I just experienced a miracle. I drove 1,824 miles in three days from Chico to San Antonio, Texas, in a Japanese pickup truck hauling a trailer, and carrying my two small grandsons, strapped to their seats. The miracle? We made it. Just flew back last night. And there were many miracles along the way, but it just looked like I was a good driver. We can explain away so much.

In one place in eastern Arizona, we began to see billboards for “The Thing?” with promises of gasoline, refreshments, a Western museum, and ice cream and the unexplained Thing? We took advantage of the ice cream and the gasoline, thanks. But at the back of the store full of souvenirs was a strange door and a sign pointing down, offering to sell us a look at The Thing? It wasn't much money, and kids under 6 were free, but I had little time to waste, so I didn't bite. I asked the attendant about The Thing? and she told me they were not allowed to say. She did say that three buildings behind us were filled with old rifles, Indian artifacts, and other stuff. The last building housed The Thing? I'll never know what it is, The Thing? but I reckon I'll live. The miracle I was experiencing was better than any roadside attraction.

Peter, James and John were blessed on the mountain by more than what Peter, Mark and Chander got to see on their way to Texas. These three closest friends of Jesus took a hike with Him to the top of Mount Hermon and at the pinnacle, while catching their breath; they saw Jesus begin to glow. His face took a brilliant shine, and doubtless they spun around to see if the sun were playing a trick with the light. Then His clothes started shining, and He was finally so bright it was hard to look at Him. The light was not shining on Him, but coming from Him. He was like a living lightning bolt, with arms and legs. He turned away from them. A few paces away, the Transfigured Jesus met with two more luminous forms. One may have held two stone tablets or some other sign, but the apostles knew him to be Moses. The other wore odd clothes and bore a wildness that meant that he could only be Elijah, the brave prophet who stood up to wicked Ahab and Jezebel.

Moses had himself been transfigured. He had gone up on Mount Sinai and came down with a face so shining with the brightness of God's light that he frightened people. He had to wear a veil whenever he came from God's company thereafter, so he could appear in public and not cause a stampede. And yet, with such evidence of a miraculous meeting with God, many people still thought they could lead the children of Israel better than Moses, with his halting speech and questionable past.

Elijah had another mountaintop experience. On Mount Carmel, he had faced 850 priests of Baal and Ashteroth in a competition for whose god could light the fire under whose sacrifice . The pagans in their complete regalia, danced, shouted, cut themselves, called up demons, and failed. Elijah soaked his altar with water three times, then called once to Yahweh to prove Himself the true God, and fire fell on the mountain. Still, King Ahab didn't convert, nor did his evil wife, Jezebel. Their priests were slaughtered by an angry crowd, but the crowd never seized upon the evidence they had seen to bring true faith back to Israel.

We expect so little, really. A cross on a steeple, pews, a few covered heads, some kneeling, a prayer, maybe a sober partaking of a sacrament, and a feeling of satisfaction that I came and did my duty. God is happy with me, because I gave up Sunday morning again for Him instead of doing something entertaining. His happiness with me should make up for the things I've done amiss last week, and keep me in His good graces, I hope, for the days to come. Maybe someday I'll see Him in heaven, and escape the pains of hell. That's all I expect. I hope to go to heaven.

Nothing wrong with that religion, I suppose, but is that the whole package? Is that all that Jesus died to give us? Did He rise to life again so that we might only visit His empty tomb and wonder? Or just buy the ice cream and forego the roadside attraction, because we have so little time…

What do we expect of Him? Or should we rather ask, what does He expect of us? Or better still, what is He hoping for us? Peter called out to Jesus, when he recovered from his faint, “ Master, it is good for us to be here: and let us make three tabernacles; one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias.” Peter was always the first to have the wrong, or the right answer. Ttabernacles were tents or booths of religious pilgrimage where people might come and have their own visions and spiritual experiences. It would be like going to Fatima or Medjugorje to try and capture an ecstatic experience someone else had once. People come from these places excited, fulfilled, because they expect to be. After all, somebody saw the Virgin Mary appear there in this century, or the last. We expect so little, and actually get excited about it.

“The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth,” wrote John, who was in that company on the mountain. He did see Jesus' glory. And he didn't build a tent, but gave an account that tells the Word , who was and is God with the Father, became flesh —literally tabernacled Himself among us. Jesus didn't need a tent to locate the site of the miracle. He WAS the tent, and His humanity was His physical presence, the place to visit.

He died, rose again, and ascended. What now? His Spirit in us, His Church, makes us the Body of Christ on earth. His Body, His tabernacle, is now you and me. When we eat the Body and drink the Blood, His nature is imparted to us. This building, this altar, is where we come to refuel, reconnect, re-become His Body on earth, but the miracle, the transformation is not this building, not spilled in the carpet, not glowing in some back room, $6 admission to see The Thing? Children under 6 free.

Jesus' face glowed from within. Moses' face glowed from contact. We are to be changed from our contact with Christ. Our faces should glow, if not with visible light, yet something should be visible because of that Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world . We emerge from this tabernacle having met with God and having partaken of the sacrifice that set fire to Himself, died of His own accord, lay down in the grave and rose of His own divine power. This power of Christ's resurrection is still with us, but we expect so little . We deny His power to raise us to new life. We'd like our old life back, thanks, with forgiveness and permission to stay the same, only go to heaven at the end. That's enough. We're like shoppers who've come across the greatest sale ever of things we never believed we could afford. But here they are, and we have the money. The sales clerk asks us if we need help deciding, and we say, out of habit, “No thanks, I'm just looking.”

I wish we could talk to St. Stephen. Just before he died, horribly injured by stones to the head, his face shone with the heavenly light and he exclaimed the vision of the Father, and Jesus at His right hand. The whole Sanhedrin saw Stephen's face shine like an angel. Then they commenced to round up more Christians, to stop them from becoming like this one.

St. Paul wrote Corinth about Moses' shining face, how children of Israel couldn't bear the truth. Moses “put a veil over his face that the sons of Israel might not look intently at the end of what was fading away. But their minds were hardened; for until this very day at the reading of the old covenant the same veil remains unlifted, because it is removed in Christ. But to this day whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their heart; but whenever a man turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But we all, with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit .” 2 Cor. 3:13-18

We are being transformed into the same image, from glory to glory. We are supposed to be changed. We are supposed to glow when people see us, and not knowing why, they ask what it is about us. If we raise our expectations, if we open our eyes, we can comprehend that glory that is offered to us, this day, every day, in the Presence of our Lord. Then that glow will cause comment, raise the question —“What's so different about you? You seem different. Has something happened to you?”

“Yes, I am different. I've been with the Lord.”

PFH+