“Transfigured” (2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9)

2 Peter 1:16-21
Matthew 17:1-9

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Pastor Tom Johnson, February 19, 2023

In our second reading, Peter remembers the Transfiguration. It must have been decades later. Like Mary, the Mother of Jesus, he treasures this memory in his heart. He spends decades pondering what it could all mean for him. Now he wants you and me to ponder what it could mean for us. Jesus chooses Peter, James, and John to hike up a mountain. When they reach the summit, they have a mountain top experience. They see Jesus transfigured before them. It like like the curtain of Jesus’ humanity is pulled back. Jesus no longer looks like he was born in a barn in Bethlehem. You would never guess he grew up in the hills of Nazareth. They see Jesus as he truly is. His face shines like the sun. He clothes are dazzling white. He is the King of glory. He is the eternal Christ—the One who has no beginning—the One who will have no end. He is the One who is, who was, and is to come. The seraphim in Isaiah have one set of special wings just to cover their eyes because of his blinding light that shines more brightly than the midday sun.

Suddenly Moses appears—the great prophet of old who ascended Mt. Sinai to meet with God, who came down and had to wear a veil over his head because of the radiance of God’s holiness emanating from his face. Moses whose burial place was hidden on a mountain now lives and meets with God again. Elijah—the great miracle-working prophet who was carried off into heaven by chariots of fire. Like ancient Enoch who walked with God and was not for God took him to be where he is. Elijah lives and now speaks with the Lord who carried him up into heaven ages ago. Peter is mid-sentence when he suggests they make three dwellings. A thunderous voice and an overshadowing cloud interrupt Peter. God says, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Peter, be slow to speak and quick to listen. Keep listening—and keep listening for decades to come. Peter, James, and John are all flattened in fear. Faces to the ground, they don’t see Jesus coming. He comes to them. He touches them. He tells them to get up and not be afraid. All is back to “normal.” The blinding light, Moses, and Elijah are gone. 

Jesus tells them not to speak of it until he rises from the dead. This begins a time when Jesus’ glory will be hidden. The other nine disciples will not witness the same event—not until the resurrection when he will be raised in blinding glory. Coming down from the mountain top is the hardest work. This is the time we must see Jesus’ glory with the eyes of faith. This is not a cleverly devised myth. Peter, James, and John are eyewitnesses. They saw it all with their own eyes. They heard it with their own ears. They felt the reassuring touch of Jesus. It was stored in their memory banks—not to be revealed until after the resurrection. Now is the time to speak of Jesus Glory.

There is a lesson in there for Peter—one he ponders and treasures for decades. Jesus assures him through the darkness ahead. He prepares Peter for the valley of the shadow of death toward the Cross. He reminds them that it was not merely Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried. It was the eternal Son of God, the Lord of Glory, the King of the Universe! Though the light would be hidden in the humanity of Jesus—no one can put out the light. So Peter says “we would do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in our hearts.” We too should ponder. We too should treasure this truth in our hearts.

One of my favorite stories comes from C.S. Lewis’ The Lion Witch and the Wardrobe. Four children—two sisters and two brothers—stumble into another world called Narnia. In this world, Aslan is king. He is a lion. The children do not know it but there is a prophecy that four humans will become kings and queens and usher in a time of peace. But the witch gets to one of them first—Edmond. The witch deceives Edmond and he betrays his sisters and brother. When the witch is hunting the others to stop the prophecy, a sly fox saves them from the queen. The fox is crushed in the teeth of the witch’s wolves and tossed on the ground. When the fox rises, he bows and says, “Forgive me, your majesty.” The queen tells him to stop his flattery. The fox says, “Not to seem rude. I was not talking to you” and points his nose toward Edmond. Edmond does not understand. The fox gives Edmond a little light—even though he doesn’t deserve it and isn’t ready. After a time of darkness and tribulation, Edmond will come to terms with his betrayal and receive forgiveness. And then that little light of hope shining in a dark place will give way to a greater reality. He will become a great king.

So Scripture tells us to pay attention to the lamp shining in a dark place. Let the little light you have be enough to warm your heart. Let the flame remind you of the blinding light to come. Let the spark ignite the hope of Christ which will exceed your greatest imagination. The thick clouds that block out the sun will not be up there forever. The dark night of our souls will come to an end. Weeping may tarry for the night but joy will come in the morning. The dawn of God’s eternal day will arise just as surely as Christ has risen. The Morning Star has already risen in our hearts. You are God’s beloved daughters and sons. He will welcome us with the same words: “Well done, good and faithful servants. With you I am well-pleased.” We will be more truly and uniquely ourselves just as Moses and Elijah were never more truly and uniquely themselves. We too will shine. We will shine as brightly as the midday sun. We will radiate the glory of the eternal Son of Glory.