This week’s readings raise issues of death, discipleship and disclosure in dramatic ways.  The 2 Kings 2 passage raises the issue of the upcoming death of the prophet Elijah and Elisha’s unwillingness to let him go.  Many of us have gone and are going through this phase of the life cycle with loved ones.  We have been unwilling to let them go and tell others to be silent about what is transpiring (verse 5), as though silencing them will change the reality.  We hope our traveling with our dying beloved, as Elisha does, will slow down the process and give us more time to get from them all that we need before they go.

Interestingly, the path Elijah and Elisha walk (from Bethel to Jericho to cross the Jordan River) retraces the conquest journey of Joshua.  For many, this path is troubling because of its reminders of the genocide of the Canaanites.  On the other hand, there may be the need to retrace steps so that new learning can arise and can prevent us from getting stuck repeating past wrongs.

As LGBT and other oppressed groups look back at our histories we can see where, even in our struggles for liberation, we have hurt others.  In so doing we can covenant to do things differently in the days ahead.  The passing on of the mantle becomes so important in these moments of transition, as we prepare the next generation of leaders/disciples to take their rightful places in the movement.  This seems a more appropriate metaphor than slaves who have a veiled Gospel, as Paul proclaims in 2 Corinthians 4.  The veiling of women in patriarchal contexts seems not to be the best model of preparation for the next generation of leaders.

The Transfiguration, as found in Mark 9:2-9, has varied meanings to us.  Some look at this not as an instance of Jesus' divinity but rather as an epochal moment of his humanity.  This is what our humanity looks like without our defenses. This is the radiant brilliance of the light of the world in us.  We are connected to so much more -- that which has gone before and that which is to come.

On the other hand, another meaning links with the subject discussed last week of the outing of Jesus.  This time God outs Jesus as God’s Child, God’s Son (verse 7), which is a term in ancient Israel for the ruler in Jerusalem. Jesus is not comfortable with this process and tries to control the spread of the new title by telling the disciples not to share it (verse 9).  We understand that the process of outing reveals more than just one’s orientation.  The process propels those involved beyond their capacity to control it and many questions arise and circumstances get exposed than can be anticipated in advance.

The reaction of the disciples is not to engage the discussion between Jesus, Moses and Elijah, since they are fearful (verse 6).  This reaction to “outing” by exposing the true essence of another seems to parallel what happens to same gender loving people, who in the midst of community crises stand back and don’t engage in the crisis.  The costs are high and many, like Peter, want to construct “dwellings” to contain and hide the revelations, as opposed to speaking up and powerfully addressing the community’s need for new insight.

When looking closely at Mark 9:2-9 we also noticed that in the collection of individuals on the mountain, women were completely omitted.  If Elijah and Moses are both religious and political figures, addressing national crises of their times, why aren’t Deborah and Esther also at this meeting?   By the same token, since Moses, Deborah, Elijah and Esther are political leaders, does this not mean that Jesus is also being introduced as a political leader of his day?  Since “Son of God” is a title for the ruler in Jerusalem, one would think this is the case.

On the other hand, the Greek word for prophet, prophētēs, is a masculine noun with feminine endings.  It is a transgender noun, so to speak. Perhaps this passage is feminized not by the presence of women, but rather by how men take on eroticized and traditionally-understood female aspects and roles.  We see this in other biblical passages.   We recall Elijah raising the widow’s son by lying down on him three times (1 Kings 17:21); Moses, who wanted to see God’s glory, was only allowed to see God’s back-end (Exodus 33:23); and the beloved disciple of Jesus lays his head upon Jesus’ breast (John 13:23).  [Interestingly, the New Revised Standard Version translations of all these passages de-eroticize them].  Linked with the Transfiguration account, can one reimagine this story as including a gathering of men – with a range of sexual and gender orientations – in an encounter with God, the ultimate lover?   Could this be why the women are excluded and the disciples who witness it are told not to tell anyone else?

	At those times in your life when you are vulnerable, troubled, hidden and veiled, who do you seek and see? Who are your beloveds that surround you? How do you see your own humanity differently?

Death, discipleship and discovery are at the core of all these texts.  Although the possibilities of interpretation are varied, and while some of them are troubling to some, the ways in which they can speak to the lives of LGBT and other oppressed groups are richer by these explorations.

We, like the disciples, might be frightened, even terrified by the possibilities explored here, and we, like they, might want to build structures to close down the exploration of possible meanings.  We must remember that Jesus objects to that response.  As in earlier narratives in the gospel of Mark, Jesus is reticent about full disclosure before the right time, but he does create opportunities for the disciples to be forewarned and fully prepared for the fullness and richness of the disclosure to come in the future.  This should give comfort to those who live in fear not only of dying, not only of losing loved one, not only of entertaining the slavery of veiling oneself, not only of being outed in the company of others, but also the thrilling possibilities of God proclaiming to others, “this is my child, listen to her and him!”