We have all heard the phrase, “The honeymoon is over.” It can describe newly married couples or newly elected officials. It describes any situation when initial excitement gives way to reality. Only the immature or naïve believe that the happy, feel-good season of life can last forever.
Yet the temptation to live in that fantasy is real. We dream of staying forever young and admired, of clinging to our 15 minutes of fame. The advertising industry feeds that illusion, endlessly promising to erase pain, wrinkles, sorrow, hard choices, aging and even death itself.
In today’s Gospel, Peter falls into that same temptation. Overwhelmed by the Transfiguration, dazzled by the glory of Jesus, Moses and Elijah, he essentially says, “Let’s stay here. Let’s make this moment last forever.”
But it cannot – and it must not.
Almost immediately, the vision fades. God the Father’s voice from the cloud is gone. The brilliant light disappears. Moses and Elijah vanish. Suddenly, Peter, James and John find themselves alone with Jesus. And as they come down the mountain, Jesus begins to speak to them about suffering and death. The mountaintop moment has ended. The honeymoon is over.
History gives us another mountaintop story. On May 29, 1953, Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay became the first to reach the summit of Mount Everest. They stood, quite literally, on top of the world. Hillary became an international celebrity, with fame, fortune and opportunity at his fingertips.
But he understood that life could not be lived on the summit. Instead of clinging to acclaim, he spent the rest of his life serving the Sherpa people of Nepal – building schools, hospitals, clinics, bridges and airfields. His name may no longer dominate headlines, like Sylvester Stallone or Dolly Parton, but it lives on in the transformed lives of countless people.
Peter, James and John – and Edmund Hillary – all learned the same truth: we cannot remain on the mountaintop. But if we allow those moments to change us, they prepare us for the work that awaits below.
That is the purpose of every holy encounter. We come to the mountain not to escape the world, but to be transformed for it.
I see that same transformation in the men who leave St. Christopher’s Inn on this Holy Mountain of Graymoor; men who cannot stay here forever, but who go forth changed, carrying what they have received into the valleys of everyday life, where God now calls them to live, serve and love.
My friends, the temptation to perpetually remain in the “honeymoon” can easily take hold of us. But always remember this: God leads us up the mountain not so that we may stay there, but so that we may be transformed and sent back into the world to proclaim the Gospel and to do His will.
