“Get Up and Do Not Be Afraid” The Last Sunday after the Epiphany Year A
Collect
O God, who before the passion of your only-begotten Son revealed his glory upon the holy mountain: Grant to us that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross, and be changed into his likeness from glory to glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
Exodus 24:12-18
The Lord said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction.” So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up into the mountain of God. To the elders he had said, “Wait here for us, until we come to you again; for Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them.” Then Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. The glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day he called to Moses out of the cloud. Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights.
Psalm 2
Why are the nations in an uproar? *
Why do the peoples mutter empty threats?
Why do the kings of the earth rise up in revolt,
and the princes plot together, *
against the Lord and against his Anointed?
“Let us break their yoke,” they say; *
“let us cast off their bonds from us.”
He whose throne is in heaven is laughing; *
the Lord has them in derision.
Then he speaks to them in his wrath, *
and his rage fills them with terror.
“I myself have set my king *
upon my holy hill of Zion.”
Let me announce the decree of the Lord: *
he said to me, “You are my Son;
this day have I begotten you.
Ask of me, and I will give you the nations for your inheritance *
and the ends of the earth for your possession.
You shall crush them with an iron rod *
and shatter them like a piece of pottery.”
And now, you kings, be wise; *
be warned, you rulers of the earth.
Submit to the Lord with fear, *
and with trembling bow before him;
Lest he be angry and you perish; *
for his wrath is quickly kindled.
Happy are they all *
who take refuge in him!
2 Peter 1:16-21
For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain. So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.
Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, 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.”
Homily: “Get Up and Do Not Be Afraid”
There is a question echoing through today’s Psalm that feels almost too current as if it were headline news or click bait, on a YouTube video:
“Why do the kings of the earth rise up in revolt,
and the princes plot together,
against the Lord and against his Anointed?”
Why indeed?
The Psalmist looks out at the world and sees power posturing, rulers raging, nations muttering empty threats. It is the theater of human arrogance, the illusion that power belongs to those who seize it, shape it, weaponize it.
“Let us break their yoke,” they say.
“Let us cast off their bonds from us.”
It sounds bold. It sounds liberating. It sounds revolutionary.
But it is rebellion not against tyranny, it is rebellion against God’s ordering of love, justice, and mercy. It is revolt against the Anointed One, against the Christ.
And what does heaven do?
“He whose throne is in heaven is laughing.”
Not mocking. Not dismissing. But laughing at the smallness of it, at the fragile bravado of empires that imagine they can dethrone the Eternal.
Psalm 2 is not naïve. It knows the world is unstable. It knows rulers conspire. It knows power resists accountability. But it also knows something deeper:
“I myself have set my king upon my holy hill.”
And then we go up the mountain.
It is no accident that this happens on a mountain. In Exodus, Moses climbed Mount Sinai into a thick cloud. The glory of the Lord settled there like a devouring fire. Six days passed. On the seventh, God spoke. The covenant was sealed.
In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a high mountain “six days later.” The parallels are deliberate.
But Jesus is not there merely to receive the Law, as Moses did, or to defend it, as Elijah did. He is there as the fulfillment of both.
His face shines like the sun. His clothes blaze with light. Moses and Elijah appear, Law and Prophet standing with the Beloved Son.
It is glory unveiled.
And Peter, honest, impulsive, eagerPeter, says what any of us would say:
“Lord, it is good for us to be here.”
Of course it is good. When we experience clarity, joy, peace, we want to freeze it. We want to build a tent around it and live there forever.
“If you wish, I will make three dwellings…”
Let’s stay here.
Let’s preserve this moment.
Let’s escape the valley.
But the voice from the cloud does not say, “Build.”
It says, “Listen.”
“This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.”
The Psalm had already declared it: “You are my Son.” On this mountain, that ancient decree is confirmed. The Anointed King is not Caesar. It is not the rulers in revolt. It is Christ.
And then the disciples fall to the ground in fear.
And Jesus touches them.
“Get up and do not be afraid.”
When they look up, Moses and Elijah are gone. The light is veiled. There is only Jesus, ordinary again.
And he leads them down the mountain.
That is the part we often skip.
The Transfiguration is not a destination. It is preparation.
The Collect today tells us why the glory is revealed before the passion: that we, beholding by faith the light of his countenance, may be strengthened to bear our cross.
Not to avoid it.
Not to admire it.
To bear it.
Jesus knows what awaits in Jerusalem, betrayal, trial, violence, crucifixion. Peter, James, and John are given this vision so that when darkness comes, they will remember the light.
Years later, Peter writes about that mountain. He insists it was no myth. He calls it “a lamp shining in a dark place.” When persecution came for him, and eventually martyrdom, it was that light that steadied him in the valley.
And here is where it becomes personal.
We are coworkers of Christ.
Not spectators.
Not permanent residents of the mountaintop.
Coworkers.
We gather in worship. We glimpse glory in Eucharist. We feel moments of clarity in prayer. It is good for us to be here.
But we cannot build permanent dwellings on the summit.
We must descend.
Because the world below is still in upheaval. Nations still mutter. Powers still rage. The vulnerable still suffer.
The Psalm ends with this quiet promise:
“Happy are they all who take refuge in him.”
Refuge is not escape. Refuge is alignment.
To take refuge in Christ is to trust that no king, no empire, no rebellion against love has the final word.
The kings may rage.
But the Son still shines.
The glory we behold is meant to change us, from glory to glory, until our lives themselves become transfigured: steadier, braver, humbler.
We are not called to build tents on the mountain.
We are called to carry light into the valley.
And when fear creeps in… when the noise of princes plotting feels overwhelming… when the cross feels heavy…
Christ still comes near.
Christ still touches us.
And Christ still says:
“Get up. Do not be afraid.”
The world right now needs Christians who stand up, not in rage like the kings in the Psalm but in steady, unafraid and unashamed love.
Amen.