I preached this sermon on February 15, 2026, as pulpit supply at Christ Presbyterian Church in Milford, Ohio.
The lectionary text is Matthew 17:1-9 – The Transfiguration. This sermon includes my hard-hitting story about Bob from Accounting.
Just four weeks ago, we, as a country, observed Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday. On the night before his died, Martin Luther King gave his “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech in Memphis, Tennessee. I thought it fit perfectly with today’s scripture from the lectionary about Jesus’ Transfiguration on a mountain.
In his speech, Dr. King included a reference to scripture in Deuteronomy chapter 34, where Moses met God on a mountaintop while leading the people of Israel to the Promised Land:
[SLIDE] Then Moses climbed Mount Nebo … There the Lord showed him the whole land … Then the Lord said to him, “This is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob … I will let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross over into it.” – excerpts from Deuteronomy 34:1-4
Dr. King understood this symbolism deeply. In his prophetic final speech, he said, “I’ve been to the mountaintop… I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the Promised Land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land!“ He saw the Promised Land as clearly as Moses did. And just as Moses saw the Promised Land and died without reaching it, Dr. King declared he had seen the Promised Land and he also died, assassinated, before reaching it.
Has Jesus taken you up the mountain like Peter, James and John? Like Dr. King? Have you had a mountaintop experience? I’m not talking about seeing Jesus shining like the sun. Rarely in Biblical history has anybody heard God’s voice, so I’m not asking about that either. Simply, have you felt God’s presence, been emotionally moved by Him, even for a fleeting moment?
We call them “mountaintop experiences,” and sometimes they literally are. I would have loved to have met God on the Beartooth Highway! But even if they don’t take place on a mountaintop, the phrase is more than cliché. If you have a brush with the divine, an experience of something extraordinary, it feels like you’re been to the mountaintop and have felt God.
Youth retreats are frequently inspirational to those who attend. Some of you attended the Billy Graham revival back in 2002, or a similar event. I attended a Christian men’s conference in downtown Cincinnati about 20 years ago. To sing “How Great Thou Art” with thousands of men’s voices was truly inspiring. These experiences can be intense and very emotional. Are you thinking of your own experiences right now? // But my friends, God doesn’t intend for us to live in a perpetual state of emotional highs when it comes to faith. Like Peter, James, and John, we eventually come down from that mountain, to the plains and valleys below.
I remember a specific mountaintop experience in my life. If you look closely in my car, you’ll see this small wooden cross hanging from the rearview mirror. This cross reminds me of my faith, and a quick glance at it has kept my temper in check when an idiot driver (in a red Jeep Cherokee) does something stupid.
I got this cross at a retreat called Walk to Emmaus. It’s a retreat for Christian spiritual renewal. The weekend was full of lectures and learning, of fellowship and friendship, discussion and devotions, and prayer. There were tangible demonstrations of agape love all weekend, from the meals that were prepared and served, the prayers that were offered and spoken, and the small gifts like this cross that were given to the participants; the show of love was tremendous. We were surrounded by it.
This cross has hung in my car ever since I came down from that mountaintop. It has been an open invitation to ask me about my faith. I’ve shared my faith journey with my passengers, and just let this cross be a sign of my Christianity. What a great way to witness, to say, “Come and see.”
Fast forward a few years, and I’m living my life on the proverbial plain, not on the mountaintop nor in a valley. I was consulting at a local company when Bob from accounting stopped me in the hallway. He asked me, “Is that your car in the parking lot with the cross hanging from the mirror?” Bob was a gray-haired gentleman, working past the typical retirement age. In this business casual office, Bob wore a necktie. His long sleeve shirts would be a little frayed and worn, but they were always clean and ironed. Bob held himself to a certain standard that he could take pride in.
Bob was quite attentive as I started telling him about where I got that cross and what it meant to me. I told him about the Walk to Emmaus retreat, and the spiritual renewal I experienced, and being encouraged to love and good deeds. Bob was smiling and nodding the whole time, encouraging my animated monologue, and when I finally paused to take a breath, he quietly said, “David, I made that cross.”
“I made that cross.” Those four words left me speechless. I instantly felt taken back up that virtual mountaintop, to that retreat. We both recognized that his seemingly simple display of agape love with his gift had made a difference to me and to many others. He never expected this moment, nor asked for it. But I could see that his spirit was lifted so much, which he needed, because he was in a valley, as I found out later.
Dr. King said that he had been to the mountaintop, and he brought his experience down to the dark valley where he fought for justice for all people.
In his final speech, Dr. King said, “Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.” That takes me back up that Vermont mountain where Julie and I stared at God’s creation on a moon-less night sky. But King was not talking about a dark field on a New England mountain, he was talking about the gloom of the valley, where it was so dark you could barely see hope.
He spoke of a hope so compelling that it could lift a nation “from the dark and desolate valley to the sunlit path of justice.” That hope is what we bring down from the mountain, along with a faith that brings us up out of the valley to the Light, the Light that John told us is Jesus.
Faith that God is with us in our darkest moments, the ones we call the valleys. Those times when we are struggling with darkness, depression, and desolation. Where there are only one set of footprints in the sand. Those times when we cry out along with the Psalmist, “Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you pay no attention during times of trouble” (Psalm 10:1). And in those moments, we have to remind ourselves that God is the comforter of the downcast (2 Corinthians 7:6). That he hears the cry of the afflicted (Psalm 10:17). And no matter what our hearts might tell us, He will never, ever abandon us (Hebrews 13:5). God is with us in the valleys.
Your experience may have been highly emotional or inspirational. However it presented itself, it was very meaningful to you. You need to grow from it. Let it sink in. Untangle the emotions. Allow the experience to become fully understood. Spend quiet time contemplating it all or perhaps talk with Jesus in prayer. Because you will need to take this experience, this faith and hope, into the world, into your plains and into the valleys.
Peter – the Rock, the one whom Jesus will build His church on – along with James and his brother John – I’ll call them the executive committee of disciples, the same narcoleptic team that went with Jesus to the Garden of Gethsemane – walked down the mountain with Jesus and they talked among themselves about what they witnessed. They had the benefit of asking Jesus questions, to talk it out.
I took notes during the lectures and other points at the Walk to Emmaus. Reading those afterward helped me process the retreat. Talking with others, like Bob in accounting, also helped.
Bring your newfound passion back to your plain, your community, your church, your family. Join a Bible study. Be an elder.
The next time you have an intimate connection with God, whether it’s at church, at a retreat, or walking in the woods, know those moments aren’t wasted. Our God loves to come to us through the Holy Spirit in ways He knows will change us. The question for you is, will you accept that change as you walk down the mountain onto the plains, into the valley?
Several years after my interaction with Bob from accounting, I was having lunch at Chipotle with a friend and shared the story about Bob. Chris walked in, an executive at that client I had consulted for, where Bob worked. My lunch buddy left and I went over and sat down at Chris’ table while he was eating his carnitas burrito. I told him what I just shared about Bob, and what a difference he made in my life. I knew Chris would want to hear it.
Chris was quiet. After a long moment, he told me how he had hired Bob back then, as Bob needed a job, needed money but had limited skills. Bob had been in a valley. Chris provided him with a bookkeeping job which Bob proudly worked, up until he couldn’t, and Bob passed away shortly after that.
Chris continued, “I needed to hear this story today. I’m going through a tough time, and remembering what I could do for Bob, and hearing what Bob did for you, has made my day, my week. Thank you, my friend.” Chris seemed to be in a valley right then, but his faith and hope would help him see the Light to get out. Bob from accounting continues to transform lives, now from his Promised Land.
Like Peter, James and John, God is going to send us down from the mountaintop. He has equipped us with the faith and hope to face the world that exists on the prairies and in the vales, along with all the trials that come with it. This faith and hope need to sustain us through the upcoming somber days of Lent.
Dr. King concluded his “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech with these words, not knowing it was his last, and I will conclude this sermon with them as well. I can’t speak these final words as eloquently as Dr. King did, but hear his words as from one who has been to the Mountaintop, one who has looked up from the valley for the stars, one who has seen the Promised Land, one who has reached a calm and reassured place in their soul. A place we strive to reach in our soul. Dr. King finished with these inspirational words:
And so I’m happy, tonight.
I’m not worried about anything.
I’m not fearing any man!
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!!”
In Jesus’ name.
