For Jesus and company, it has been quite an eventful time. It starts (chapter 9:20) with Peter’s stunning revelation: “You are Messiah of God!”  An astonishing confession of faith in response to the variety of ideas that were following Jesus via the rumour mill. Jesus took a moment to talk about what that really meant – first announcing that “the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” (9:22) This seems like a real wet blanket on the disciple’s excitement, if you ask me – but the truth is more important than enthusiasm.

About eight days later, Jesus took a select few – including Peter – to a hilltop to pray. Peter and his friends are astonished once more by the dazzling light – the voice from the cloud – the sudden appearance of two heroes of the faith (Moses & Elijah.) Jesus is transfigured before them – identified by the mysterious voice as “my Son, the Chosen…” and this time, their response is stunned silence.

The next day, it’s back to business as usual.

A healing is requested. A distraught father cries out from the crowd: “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son – my only child…”

The details of the illness are given – and it turns out that the remaining students of the master (those left at the bottom of the mountain) were not up to the task of healing this boy. Jesus, though frustrated, sets things right, “and all were astounded at the greatness of God.”

And finally, a rebuke to the disciples – that ‘perverse and faithless generation’ (how’s that for inspiring confidence?)

“Let these words sink into your ears. The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands.”

It’s the stuff of a dramatic mini-series. Emotional highs and lows – miracles, wonders and dreadful promises. And somewhere – somehow, a word of grace and hope…but where?

Betrayed into human hands. The statement seems to suggest that not even God can prevent the stubborn idiocy of human manipulation. That doesn’t seem like good news, but it does give us a place to start.

It should come as no surprise that our reactions to the reality that unfolds around us can lead us to conclusions that have nothing to do with the justice, mercy and love of God. Jesus statement made in frustration seems to imply only negative outcomes. But implicit in this is another possibility, for it is human reaction to the betrayal – our willingness to hear and struggle with the truth – our openness to the occasionally stunning moments of divine glory – that can also help to usher in God’s glorious reign of peace.

We are both warned and encouraged about the nature of the struggle of navigating the reality of Emmanuel (God-with-us).

On the mountain top, it is easy. Heavenly voices and shining lights – the sudden appearance of biblical superstars – in those moments, the path with God is clear and easy. But on every day that follows, there is the usual human mischief and misery that easily obscures the divine reality.

We confess that the divine reality is reality even when the predicted human betrayal slaps us in the face. The mountaintop experience of Jesus, Peter, James and John does nothing to stop the inevitability of the crucifixion. It does, however, inform the inexplicable experience of Resurrection.

Every single day this week has brought another moment of outrage, frustration, horror, and disbelief. A nation’s character is most often expressed through the words and actions of those who would lead. When the leadership leans into mockery, cruelty and disrespect – as has been recently demonstrated by our southern neighbours – it can leave us anxious and unsettled.

There is no remedy for the current news cycle. The violence against Ukraine continues, and that is only the most easily visible conflict on the global stage.

Fighting still rages in the middle east – in the Congo – Sudan – Mali and scores of other places that we seem to care less about. Humanity is, over and over again, betrayed by human emotions, human reactions and human failings. And we’d love nothing better than for God to swoop in and sort it all out. But what we have been given instead is the example of Jesus (and the courage of the Holy Spirit) that dares us to be different – dares us to stand for something other than the betrayal of all that God (in the beginning) called ‘very good.’

Our outrage at the continuous betrayal – at the hands of allies and enemies alike – is not changing minds. In fact, Jesus rebukes us for expecting anything but betrayal. Instead, he calls us to be alert to the dangers and to respond with love and grace regardless of the state of things. This is not a call to denial, it is a call to determination.

I can’t tell you how often I have hoped some words of mine might change minds. I have wished for a mountain-top moment, so that I’d have that (at least) to bring me hope in times of despair. What I get instead is Jesus saying “I will be betrayed, rejected and ultimately killed… And then I will be raised.

Right now it is too easy to focus on the first half of Jesus’ statement. Betrayal, rejection and death are taking up a lot of our time and vision. But the resurrection is also part of our reality. May God grant us the eyes to see that it is never that far from us.