One day he told me that over there was where he had spent his whole life trying to get. Can you can guess where over there is?

During finals, over there might have been the next quarter. When he was working summer jobs, over there might have been his first call. After an awkward date, over there might have been marriage.

Over there could be a friendship that you really want to have. Over there could be the accomplishment of your lifetime. Over there could just be a Nintendo WII, a Lexus LS 470, or hardwood floors.

Now can you can guess where over there is? It is the place where you can stop, sit down, rest, be at peace, and be content. You know you’ve arrived if you are completely content with—or completely in control of—some aspect of your life. Have you ever tried to get over there? Maybe a better question is: has there ever been a time when you were not trying to get over there? And…Are you…there?

In Luke chapter 9, Peter thought he’d gotten there. His day began with business as usual: he’d followed Jesus (uphill), prayed for a while, and expected to listen to a perplexing parable or two. Peter boggled at how strange a Messiah Jesus was. It was just another day for Peter. His eyes blinked slowly.

In one long moment, he registered a change. In an instant, he realized what he saw and his heart pounded. A second ago, he’d been half asleep. Now—never had he been more awake in his life. There before him stood Jesus. But it was impossible to look him at directly. He was like lightning. And beside him stood two glorious men, bearded and wise. They were Hebrew. Peter couldn’t explain how he knew but he knew: these were The Great Prophets of Old—Moses… and Elijah.

At last, Peter thought, Jesus had revealed Himself! At last, here was the power and glory due the Messiah! Peter had seen God and lived! He’d heard the God’s voice…claim Jesus as his Son! Surely, he would never doubt again. Surely, the Jews would not deny Jesus with Moses and Elijah bearing witness. Surely, the Romans would flee from his glorious presence …. But, wait, something was happening. Moses and Elijah were leaving!

Peter was bewildered. Who would leave this mountain? Who would leave this Jesus? Who would leave this glory? "Wait!" he cried, "Let us build three tents!" and stay.

Peter thought he’d gotten there. He thought the hardest part of his ministry was over. He thought he could rest, thought he could stop on the mountain.

Let’s see if you can identify with Peter. Have you ever been woken from a sleepy faith by a gut-wrenching remorse for your sins and then discovered they were forgiven!? Was there an hour when you wept for joy to imagine the Second Coming of Christ? Was there a day when you prayed for hours and felt refreshed by it? A month when your devotions filled you with insights? A Sunday when you loathed leaving the sanctuary? Has your heart ever leapt when a passage of Scripture suddenly became clear? Do you recall a conversation when your confidence swelled just enough—and you blurted out the greatest news of all time? In short, has your old familiar faith ever been transfigured before you?

You were probably tempted to stop right there—to prolong the feeling, to revisit it, to seek an encore, to pitch your tents on the mountain, sit down, and rest. You might even have thought, briefly, that you’d arrived—that, for a few moments or hours, you were over there.

Peter thought so, and Luke added, "he didn’t know what he was saying."

Ironically, Peter was right. The Transfiguration, Moses, Elijah, the glory of Jesus, those times when your faith was passionate, your biggest insights—all of that is over there. All of those things are foretastes of the Kingdom of God! Earlier in this sermon, I invited you to guess where over there is. Over there is the Kingdom of God. All our longings to arrive are longings for Christ to come again. The book of Hebrews says that the heroes of faith considered themselves strangers on Earth; they longed for a better country. They wanted to get over there!

But they didn’t! Despite their prosperity, they never got there. Despite the miracles they saw, they never got there. Despite their great faith, they never got there. Not in this life.

Jesus had a different response to his transfiguration. He turned his back on it—just as he turned his back on his divine nature and his Father’s Kingdom. He left the Kingdom of God, put his glory on the shelf, and set out for a different mountain—Golgatha. Even while he was on the Mount of Transfiguration, burning with his rightful glory, he didn’t mention it at all; but spoke of his crucifixion.

It was the Father’s will that Jesus, His Only Son would leave over there to die at Golgatha. It is the Father’s will that we go to Golgatha too. We don’t go to die, to suffer, to be damned. Jesus did that. We go to receive God’s mercy, forgiveness, and love. We go because the cross of Christ is the way over there.

During the season of Epiphany we focused on Jesus’ glory. But at the end of this service, will turn our back on Epiphany and enter Lent. We will sing "Farewell to Alleluias." And during the next 7 weeks, we’ll meditate on Jesus’ journey to Golgatha.

Many people give up something for Lent. If you give up nothing else, give this up—for the rest of your lives. Give up the hope that you might ever arrive over there before Christ comes again. For now, turn your back on glory and head, every day, to Golgatha: where God gives you everything you need to sustain you until you finally arrive over there.

Peace, rest, and joy are found only where Christ reigns. Until that day, we will never get farther than the cross.