|
|
Jesus’ Exodus, Our Exodus
Luke 9: 28 – 43 |
|
|
|
||
|
Summary
Jesus’ Exodus, Our Exodus The conversation that Jesus had with Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration certainly must have been important. We naturally wonder what Jesus would say to the lawgiver and the great prophet of Israel. And what would they say to the Lord’s anointed? But when the gospels of Mark and Matthew give us this story, they tell us nothing of what was said among those three. Only Luke’s gospel gives us the topic of their conversation. They “were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” On one level it’s fairly obvious what that means: “Departure” is an expression for death, kind of like our euphemism “he passed away.” The Greek word that’s translated “departure” here is used in another place in the New Testament to mean dying, when the writer of 2 Peter speaks of his approaching death. So Moses and Elijah were speaking about the fact that Jesus was going to die in Jerusalem. But there’s more to it than that. Just before this account of the Transfiguration, Jesus had told his disciples for the first time that he would be killed in Jerusalem. He knew about it and presumably these two greats of Israel’s history who have somehow appeared here would have known about it. Especially in this situation when Jesus is glorified, why should they be dwelling on something like that? And we notice, too, that it doesn’t just say that they were speaking about something that would happen to Jesus. The conversation concerned “the departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.” Jesus is not going to be completely passive. He is going to act and accomplish something. So we have to look deeper. The key to understanding the deeper meaning is that Greek word that I mentioned for “departure,” which is exodos. They were speaking about the exodus that Jesus would accomplish at Jerusalem. Israel’s Exodus That makes the conversation suddenly seem much heavier, much more significant. The Exodus! It’s a story that — for obvious reasons — we find in the book of Exodus, but also one that permeates the Hebrew scriptures. The story of the departure from Egypt defines the people of Israel. We might even say that it defines the God of Israel. “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me,” is the way God began the giving of the law at Mount Sinai. The story of the Exodus is told at every Passover meal — a story of how the Hebrew people were in bondage in Egypt and God raised up Moses to lead them to freedom. Finally, after many appeals and 10 plagues, Pharaoh, the oppressive king of Egypt, let the people go. But then he changed his mind, pursued them with his chariots and his warriors, and caught the fleeing slaves at the edge of the sea. The Hebrews were trapped between slavery and death. The people cried out in despair — it would have been better to live as slaves than to die in the wilderness! But God commanded Moses to stretch out his hand over the sea. An east wind sprang up and drove the sea back, and Israel passed through the threatening waters. Then, as Pharaoh’s chariots pursued them, the sea closed on them and destroyed the Egyptian army. The Hebrews went dry shod through the sea toward the freedom of the Promised Land. And on the other side Miriam led the celebration, singing “Sing to the LORD, for he has triumphed gloriously; horse and rider he has thrown into the sea.” So Moses and Elijah appeared in glory and spoke with Jesus about the Exodus that he was going to bring about at Jerusalem. Jesus is going to die — but not just die. He is going to lead his people — he is going to lead all people — out of slavery to sin, out of the fear of death, toward what St. Paul calls “the glorious liberty of the children of God.” That Exodus of old was really more than the escape of the Hebrews from Egypt. They had been in bondage there for generations. It’s likely that they’d forgotten a lot of their history and in the nature of such enslavement they would have had no political institutions to hold them together. The Egyptians, after all, were in control of their lives. Perhaps those slaves remembered the names of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, but who knows what those names meant to them. It was God, we’re told, who heard their cries, who remembered his covenant with their ancestors, and who acted. In a very real sense, God created the people of Israel in the Exodus. In Egypt they had been just a disorganized mass of slaves. When they had passed through the sea they were a free people, God’s people. So God tells the Jews who later were in exile in Babylon, “I am the LORD, your Holy One, the Creator of Israel, your King. ... who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters.” But then he goes on: “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing.” That meant to begin with that God would bring those exiles back home, but it points toward a new and greater Exodus, when God will create a new humanity through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ Exodus and ours Our text is set at the point in the gospels when Jesus has told his disciples about his coming rejection by the religious leaders and his death, and when in spite of that expectation “he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” Before Jesus starts on that journey, before his passion, the story of the Transfiguration reminds us who he is. This is not just another prophet or teacher but one who shares the glory of God. Subject indeed to temptation, suffering and death, “in the likeness of sinful flesh,” the Creator of the world, the Creator of Israel is going to accomplish the great work of new creation. He is going to pass through the waters of death to the Promised Land of the Resurrection. And here we stand, too, on the threshold of Lent, a time in which we’re called to renew our commitment and in spirit to follow Jesus on his journey to the Cross. It’s perhaps good for us to remember the situation that those Hebrews were in who were trying to escape from Egypt. Even with the threat of Pharaoh’s approaching army, it must have gone against all common sense to walk into the sea, into what must have seemed like certain death. How could they know that the waves would not suddenly come crashing down upon them? But God’s command was clear: “Tell the Israelites to go forward.” Now at Jesus’ transfiguration, God’s command is again clear: “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” And what God’s Son has just told his disciples is that if they want to be his followers they must take up their own crosses and come after him. The disciplines of Lent are intended to help us to have that cross-taking frame of mind. Prayer is an opportunity to practice trust in God even though we may see no results. Fasting is a practice of self-denial in order to remind ourselves of our need for God. Giving of alms is a practice of placing the needs of others first. Letting go of concern for ourselves, realizing our total dependence on God and loving our neighbors as ourselves, is all a bit like walking into the sea. It is being prepared to die if it is God’s will but knowing that, come life or come death, God is trustworthy. And these disciplines can train us so that when we are on our way through life to the Promised Land, we don’t start “murmuring,” like the Israelites on their wilderness journey, whenever we run into challenges and hardships. Because the new Exodus is not just a journey to death. It is a departure through death to a new life, and to the hope of the Promised Land of God’s new creation. It is no wonder that from the times of the early church, the Exodus was seen as the Old Testament event that above all others prefigured the death and resurrection of Jesus and the new life for all people that the events of Good Friday and Easter opened up. Those events are the new Exodus that Jesus has accomplished for us and for all the world at Jerusalem. |
||
