The Mountaintop

A Reflection on the Gospel for March 8th, 2020:
​Second Sunday of Lent

Matthew 17.1-9

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.”

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Pause. Pray.

And then read more...

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We made it to the top.
The intangible has become tangible.
The sky is so close I feel a part of it;
the clouds nestle themselves at my feet.


It's so real I can touch it.


The air—cool, crisp, and clean—but thin and breathless.
The world is distant, and in full focus.
I can see everything and nothing.
Fears have been conquered, subdued at least.
The impossible is suddenly possible.
Joy pounds in my chest, exploding through my mouth, forming droplets in the air.
Tears forge a warm stream through the sweat caked on my cheeks.
The pain is staggeringly magnificent—I’m exhausted from the exhilaration of it all.


It’s so real I can touch it.


It’s so hard to believe I’m here.
I've dreamed about it for so long.
But then, the dreams began to fade; 
maybe they were only dreams after all.
But now that I’m here, and others are here too, and we’re breathless and awestruck—It’s real.


It’s so real I can touch it.


And now the descent.

But no! So soon?
I want to stay in this glory forever.
The Son burns so brightly, I can feel Him from within.
Up here I'm everything—who will I be when I go?

The fruit grows down there--Our lives depend on the fruit. 
You
are
​good.

But wait, I’m afraid.
It's dark,
cold,
steep.
My footing… I might fall.

You will. It’s ok. I’m here. Just listen.

I believe You.
You see me.
I’m encouraged, comforted—no longer afraid.
I trust You.
Please stay close.

I will. Follow Me.


He’s so real I can touch Him.




Lori MacDonald

Photo by Damian Markutt on Unsplash

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