Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99:1-5; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36

I don’t think I’m, telling you anything new when I tell you that Jesus liked to pray. In Luke 9:18 he is praying, and a week and a bit later, in Luke 9:28, he goes off to pray again. He prays alone with the disciples near him, other times he takes with him Peter and John and James.

When Jesus meets them at the summit of the mountain, Elijah and Moses speak with him of his departure which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. In their previous week together Jesus had told his disciples about how it was about to end, and that they were to keep his messiahship a secret. Jesus was going to be denied by all who should have acknowledged him, (let alone have worshipped him as the living God); in fact, Jesus was going to be murdered, and Jesus was looking for disciples who would acknowledge him, even in his death, even at the cost of their own death. For the fully-human Jesus that would have been an intense conversation to have, even with Moses and Elijah: clearly this was too much information for him to share with Peter, James, and John.

Again I remind you that Jesus liked to pray; but I also remind you that sometimes, even for Jesus, prayer was hard work. On occasion Jesus found prayer unpleasant and lonely, frightening and overwhelming. In Luke 9:32 we read that Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep, although they had stayed awake. Perhaps they were drowsy rather than totally zonked, but they were not the full bucket of chips after a long climb and maybe a long wait. We read in Luke 9:33 that Peter spoke – not knowing what he said. A few months later, on a Thursday night in Gethsemane those same three men are off with the faeries while Jesus is off with the angels. Clearly the lesson spoken from the cloud that “This is my Son, my Beloved; listen to him!” did not connect.

But I don’t want to talk about the sleepy three today. I don’t want to talk about how they tried to domesticate the presence of God by building houses for the two great men of Judaism who represented the Torah and the Nevi’im, the Law and the Prophets of Hebrew scripture, to keep them on Earth when they were clearly only visiting. I don’t want to talk about how Jesus is the Gospel, the final revelation of God as Word and Man, Emmauel; how Jesus is more than a prophet and greater than both Moses and Elijah and is The LORD Godself in dusty feet and olive skin. I don’t want to talk about that. And I don’t want to talk about the voice from Heaven which overshadowed and terrified the men, and about which they kept silent and told no one, and which they later forgot anyway. Nup, don’t wanna; not gonna, nup.

In Exodus 34:29-33 we read about another man transformed by prayer on a mountainside. Well actually we don’t because it’s Moses again, so it’s one of the men from the story before. In the years when Moses lived on Earth, in the desert with the other pilgrim Hebrews, Moses would often go off alone to pray and leave the mob on the plains. Just like Jesus would do. We’re told in today’s story that Moses would return to the people with his face glowing, radiant with the glory of God, and that according to Exodus 34:29 the actual skin of his face was shining, and that Aaron and all the Israelites…were afraid to come near him. We read in Exodus 34:34-35 that this was not only a one-off experience for Moses, limited to that occasion when he came down from the mountain with the two tablets of the covenant in his hand (Exodus 34:29), but that whenever Moses went in before The LORD to speak that he would veil and unveil.

That is what I want to speak about, that Moses and Jesus were physically changed by their repeated trips to the mountain, their continual times of separation from others to engage with The LORD in prayer.

In our reading from the Christian Traditions today we hear Paul telling the Corinthians not to veil their minds (2 Corinthians 3:18), instead to see…the glory of the Lord…with unveiled faces (2 Corinthians 3:18). Read the scripture and hear the traditions as they are told in stories and in sermons, listen for God in all that you hear and say; expect to be confronted by the presence and the wisdom of God. Do not be surprised when you are taken by surprise by God as you go about your day. Rejoice in the love song on the radio that tugs at your spirit strings and calls you into worship in the kitchen or in the car; unveil your face in that moment. Put down the knife and step away from the chopping-board, keep your hands on the wheel and eyes on the road, but let God grab you in that time.

My prayer, in fact my plan as much as I am allowed to have plans, is that the congregations at Stawell and Pomonal will engage more deeply in prayer in 2025 and 2026. Not only that Stawell starts a prayer group at a set prayer time, (Pomonal already has one), and that we revisit the prayer chains as activities and ministries of our congregations, but that we become people who delight in praying. It is not too much for me to hope that the people of this church will be people who glow in public, or at the very least in private, even metaphorically.

I often find myself teary when I pray; so overwhelmed am I by the sense of love and presence of God as I pray for you and for the world that my emotions erupt. I also often feel a thrill, like a tickle in my chest and stomach as I pray: I have come to recognise this as God’s delight in me and in what I am praying, and whilst I don’t seek it specifically I know that if it comes that I am right to continue down that track in my prayers, almost as if God is thrilled by what I am asking and God starts kicking me like an ecstatic toddler. Do you want that? Do you want to weep and wrestle in prayer in a good way because you are so into God and God into you?

Do you want to be transfigured by The LORD? Do you want to be assured of God’s physical presence in you, now that you have seen in scripture and heard in testimony that it is not only possible but is available? Don’t answer yet, because wait, there’s more. Are you ready for what comes next?

Moses and Jesus also wept and wrestled in prayer in ways that are not so good; we know that from the Gethsemane story. The one who was transfigured was also crucified, and the one who had to veil his face also died in the wilderness, in view of the land but not in occupation. Sometimes my prayers are a kick in the guts, where God’s instruction to me as an intercessor is to keep pressing in, keep punching up, keep persevering in the struggle for Stawell, the ongoing care of Pomonal and the bushfire affected regions of this and our neighbouring shires, peace in Ukraine, an easing of persecution in Gaza and terror in Israel, or a breakthrough in my own discipleship or pastoral call. I like to pray, I love to pray, but sometimes the activity of praying does not seem to like me or love me back. Is that also something you are prepared to step into and up to?

Are you prepared to approach God, by yourself, with an unveiled appearance? This is the truest meaning of the often-cited concept of a priesthood of all believers. This idea is not about everyone being a clergyperson in our church and that no one can monopolise the pulpit or the table because everyone gets a turn: this priesthood of all believers is that you don’t need Moses, or Aaron, or some on-duty Kohen or Levite to enter the holy tent on your behalf carrying the sheep you provided. You may enter the holy tent yourself, without a sheep, because Jesus was your sheep and you are welcome in God’s deepest presence any time. Yes I can pray for you, I should and I do; yes Jesus is our great and ultimate High Prest, priest and victim; yes the Spirit intercedes for us in groans that words cannot express; but if you are a priestly believer amongst the priesthood of all believers when will you enter the most holy place where it is only you and God? When? What is stopping you?

Hear this clearly from your pastor, this is your call to prayer. There is also an opportunity, which is Wednesday mornings between 9:00 and 10:00 over in the corner. I have been there every week since the beginning of January, and today I am inviting you to begin to join me. How do you respond to this invitation, when will you respond?

Amen.