moses and elijah

A while back I was reading the gospel of Mark, right up to the point in chapter 9 when Jesus goes up on a mountain and talks to Moses and Elijah. (Theologians and the notes in your Bible call that “the Transfiguration”.) Every other time I’ve read that story I’ve assumed that the point was to make it explicitly clear to the disciples who Jesus was. They seemed to be having a hard time figuring it out and understanding it, so I’ve always thought this was God’s way of saying, “Here’s who Jesus is: He’s my Son. He’s the God of Moses and Elijah. Pay very close attention to what He says.” That is, after all, kind of along the lines of what God says from the clouds on that day.

But a new thought occurrs to me. What if Jesus was just missing His friends? I imagine that before coming down to earth and taking on this suit of skin He could sit around up in heaven and talk with Moses and Elijah any time He wanted to. In fact, they probably sat around all the time, talking and laughing and just being friends. Of course, before He came down to earth He would have to ask Moses and Elijah what it was like to be a human and then use His eternal imagination to fill in the blanks, but there on the mountain He had His own personal experience to call on. That day, standing there talking with His friends, I wonder if He told them that He understood more fully the struggles of humanity—and that He understand Moses and Elijah better, too. I wonder if He didn’t embrace them and cry, saying, “My friends! My friends!”

What if the voice of God that day was as much for Jesus as for His disciples? Before embarking on this whole incarnation thing, Jesus had been able to sit around with God the Father, too. Maybe this voice from heaven, while unarguably affecting the disciples, also affected Jesus. Maybe it was deeply encouraging to Him, the voice of His Father affirming who He was and that He was worth paying attention to. That would encourage me.

What if Jesus was there that day, on the mountain, because of something He needed?

I’ll tell you what really gets me: the idea that Jesus’ friendship with Moses and Elijah was so valuable to Him that He would want to do something extraordinary just to be able to talk to them for a bit. To be honest, that idea shakes me. It shakes me because the God of the universe forging a friendship so deep with two men is an amazing thing. Consider what we are compared to Him—how could friendship with us in our fallen, disheveled state be that valuable to Him? Or as David says, “When I look at the night sky and see the work of Your fingers—the moon and the stars You have set in place—what are mortals that You should think of us, mere humans that You should care for us?” (Psalm 8:3-4, NLT).

And yet, He does care. He does want friendship. He does so long to be close to me, to huddle together with me on a mountainside or on a walk or even in my own living room, talking and laughing and crying and getting to know me better as I come to know Him.

If you ask me, that’s just incredible.