February 19, Transfiguration A (Matthew 17:1-9)
When our beloved buildings are gone, what will endure is relationship.
Long, long ago—before televisions had cable, before Star Wars even existed, and before my parents moved—I had two best friends, Sheri and Jamie. After school and on weekends we did everything together. We rode our bikes over jumps in the woods. We played hide-and-seek. We reenacted Adam West’s Batman. (Sheri and I never put up with Jamie thinking he could be Batman just because he was a boy.) Our adventures had us outside until the sun went down.
We stuck together when one of us got in trouble for going door-to-door pretending to collect money for the PTA (me), when one of us was held back a grade (Jamie), and even when one of us got hit by a car (Sheri—she’s fine). We were inseparable, and our commitment went to the core. It was a bond broken only by my move away from the neighborhood when we were all still too young to stay in touch without the assistance of the adults in our lives.
I think about this deep friendship when I think about Jesus heading up the mountain with only Peter, James, and John. Earlier in his ministry, Jesus is asked by a leader of the synagogue to heal his daughter, and Jesus allows only Peter, James, and John to follow him and witness the healing (Mark 5:37). Later, they are the only ones specifically invited to come with Jesus deeper into the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–37).
