Threshold of Transformation

The story of the transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-13) of Jesus is highly symbolic and metaphorical. Our first clue as to what is going to happen is the mountain. Jesus takes three of his disciples, Peter, James and John, up a mountain, which legend and tradition say is where one will encounter God. As they climb closer to the heavens and closer to where “God lives” suddenly Jesus’ clothes become radiantly white and his face begins to shine (which good first century Jews would recognize as the same thing that happened to Moses when he went up the mountain to get the 10 commandments). It is as if the physical closeness they were achieving on the mountain to God has caused the inner reality of Jesus’ closeness to the Divine to be manifest on the outside.

But this story doesn't just allude to Moses, the original mountain men (if you will) Moses and Elijah actually appear next to Jesus. Elijah's story is that he sought refuge in a cave in Mt. Sinai where he also had an experience of God and was directed what to do next.

Honestly, it isn’t surprising to see Moses and Elijah in this transformative moment for Jesus and the disciples. These two represent the support of the Jewish patriarchs and the continuation of the Jewish story. Jesus and his mission are not happening outside of Jewish history, but are intrinsically part of it. So, Peter is prepared to make these three as comfortable as possible and offers that he, James, and John, will build them a couple of tents. Suddenly a cloud overshadows them, a symbolic sign that now God has descended to earth, and the voice from the cloud clears things up a little bit for the disciples. It’s not tents that are needed, what is needed is that they listen to Jesus!

The problem is that listening to Jesus hasn’t been an easy task, especially lately. Tension has been running high and Jerusalem is a dangerous place for Jesus to go, yet he was bound and determined to head there. Peter hasn’t wanted to hear any of this and has fought him on his plans and predictions. But Jesus has been clear that if real change was going to happen, they would have to confront the powers-that-be and risk their own lives to do it.

Now on top of the mountain is the moment they are called to decide. Would they cross over the threshold to embark on a journey they’d been trying to deny, now that they had a divine command to “listen” to Jesus?

This was a big moment, a sliding door moment.

Have you seen the movie “Sliding Door”? In it a woman is running to catch the subway and from there it splits into two story lines. One follows what happens to her if she catches the train, and the other follows what happens to her if that sliding door of the subway closes before she can get there. It was a moment that seemed almost innocuous, but drastically changed the course of her life.

Have you had one of those sliding door moments where you wonder what would have happened if you’d made another decision, gone left instead of right, said or done something differently? And in that one moment, as you look back now, everything changed. It’s like you crossed a threshold into another place, universe, plane of existence. Sometimes good, sometimes not so good, sometimes just dramatically different.

When we think of these sorts of life-changing thresholds we think of marriage, divorce, babies being born, going to school, new jobs or quitting old jobs, moving, illness or accidents, joining a church or leaving a church, traveling, having new experiences and so much more. But they can be small things like meeting someone, hearing a line in a song that gives you a new perspective, therapy, a phone call.

I’ve been thinking a lot about thresholds as it applies to spirituality and especially to our upcoming journey of Lent. There are not just physical thresholds, doorways to walk through, or concrete decisions (like job changes) to make, but spiritual thresholds as well that, as Joyce Rupp says, “mark the division between who we are now and who we will become, between the present awareness of the Holy One and how this relationship develops in the future.” 

Here's an interesting fact: many temples in India have one large step at the threshold, twenty-four inches or higher. By design this step is made large so that effort is required to climb over it in order to enter the sacred space. Once over the large step, you will often find a statue of a snake on one side of the temple door and a dragon on the other. The statues represent aversion and attachment.

Symbolically, the temples are constructed this way as a reminder that we have to climb over our obstacles, putting aside what we fear and what we cling to, in order to enter the sacred space that is everywhere.

The disciples had their own aversions and attachments to climb over before they’d willingly walk through that doorway to Jerusalem. They most likely feared for Jesus' life and their own. They probably didn't want anything to change and wanted to hold onto their dream of Jesus as the Messiah who would raise armies and usher in an era of peace. 

There are always aversions and attachments that keep us from entering sacred space where we might be asked to change, to commit, to follow. So, instead we stake out our territory at the opening to the threshold and stay there as long as possible! Perhaps the dramatics of the transfiguration story are meant to help us understand just how hard it was for the disciples to move forward.

Theologian and author, John Shea, talks about listening to many people over the years talk about their spiritual experiences, times when they felt intimately connected to the Divine. He said he always asks them about what happens afterwards. People answered that they would seek other experiences like it, or have it imprinted in their memory, or wrote it down and carried it with them. While these may sound like nice answers, Shea points out that they also “smack of tent building on the mountain.”

People were presented with a threshold experience meant to change them and offer them a new perspective and/or path, and they basically took a snapshot of it and took it out occasionally to remember that great moment. They missed the sliding door! The point of this story was not to build a tent and stay there, it was to do something! 

Jan Richardson has an amazing poem called "Dazzling": 

Believe me, I know
how tempting it is
to remain inside this blessing,
to linger where everything
is dazzling and clear.

We could build walls
around this blessing,
put a roof over it.
We could bring in
a table, chairs,
have the most amazing meals.
We could make a home.
We could stay.

But this blessing
is built for leaving.
This blessing
is made for coming down
the mountain.

This door is meant for walking through, not walking up to, taking a peak and getting comfy without walking through. 

Is there a threshold you're meant to be walking through right now? What are the aversions and attachments that keep you from doing so? What is the Spirit saying to you that you need to listen to?

Love & Light,

Kaye