Dazzling white. Brighter than any one on earth could create or conceive. So bright it hurts the eyes. The bright star of Bethlehem magnified and intensified into one being. Peter and James and John couldn’t look away.
Something was happening. Something mysterious. And terrifying. And wondrous. Something holy. Like a bush that burns but is not consumed. Or fiery chariots descending from heaven. Amazing. Confusing. Not limited by the human imagination. Unbelievable - except that they see it with their own eyes.
Brains racing to process all the sensory input, the disciples try to capture the moment. Peter and James and John of the 21st century would have recorded it all with their phones. Instead, they offer to build huts for Jesus and Moses and Elijah. If they will all stay for tea and a snack, we can figure out what’s happening.
Jesus, for a moment, is speechless, without comfort for his terrified and confused friends. And then the voice of God speaks from the cloud - talk about adding to sensory overload! And then it is just the four of them again.
I like to think I’d be calm and collected if I had just witnessed my best friend turned dazzling white and communing with ghosts, and then quite literally heard and felt the voice of God. More likely, I’d be shaking. Mind-blown.
This story is called the Transfiguration of Jesus, because his appearance, his figure, is changed. And it is a moment of transformation for these three disciples - a moment of full immersion into the glory and power of God. None of them - Jesus, Peter, James, or John - will be the same afterward. They can’t be. Encountering God, even for a moment, changes us.
Mark’s story of Jesus begins with his baptism - when a voice from heaven proclaims, “You are my son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.” In today’s reading, a voice from the cloud says, “This is my son, my beloved; listen to him!” Less than a week before the transfiguration, Jesus has told the disciples for the first time about his coming death and resurrection.
With the transfiguration, the focus of Jesus’ ministry shifts from proclaiming the kingdom of God come near by teaching and healing and exorcisms to preparing the disciples to continue his ministry. We are now ‘on the way’ toward Jerusalem and Jesus’ eventual arrest. We know how the story goes, but the disciples and Jesus are living it - moment by moment.
Jesus’ outward appearance has changed, but his essence, his identity as God’s beloved son, remains. His ministry to love all people and to lead in unexpected ways toward the kingdom of God is deepened, confirmed.
For the disciples, they have bathed in the breath of God. Gazed on God’s blinding, breath-taking, terrifying presence. How they know and understand God’s love for Jesus, and for them, is transformed. If they thought Jesus was a good teacher before, they now have heard God tell them to pay attention better in class. They are now inextricably part of Jesus’ ministry.
I am always intrigued by the desire of the disciples to capture the most unbelievable moment of seeing dazzling Jesus with Elijah and Moses. It reminds me of my own desperate and elusive quest to photograph the perfect sunset, or a moment of delight in my child’s eye, or the holy quiet of an empty sanctuary. We simply cannot capture the mind-blowing glory of God in a box or photo or beautiful music. We can share in its reflection, aspire to its re-creation, remember its transformative effect on our hearts.
If we can’t hold on to it, then our challenge is to be more attentive to those moments when we experience the presence of God. To put down the camera, and be in the moment. To be courageously vulnerable to joy and wonder, and pain. To admire and revere the God who transforms the world before our eyes.
The very same God who overcomes death and fear shows us a new way of life. The more we see and know God, the more we are called to live with God in a new way. A way of joy, and hope - even in difficult and painful moments. A way that remembers that moment when the veil between us and the Holy was lifted, and we glimpsed the brightness of our God.
God meets us wherever we are, and no one is excluded from the presence of God. That’s why we welcome everyone here at Trinity. No matter your age or first language, what part of the world you grew up in, or who you love, we cannot exclude anyone from the presence of God. It’s not up to us to measure out God’s love and grace.
We can choose to acknowledge and remove the barriers we use to separate us from one another and from God. Barriers of class and race and privilege. To acknowledge how the church and country we love and live in are steeped in assumptions of wealth and white privilege that exclude and harm our beloved siblings. When one hurts or feels excluded, none of us are whole.
Confronting fear left Jesus speechless - he didn’t know what to say. But he stayed with his friends, in the moment, to walk with them, to translate the experience of God’s bright glory into their life together.
It’s hard and courageous work to be vulnerable to our emotions, and to those of others. And it is when we are open to the moment, humble with ourselves and others, that we glimpse the glory, the beauty and grace of God in one another.
Just as Jesus journeyed with his friends as they learned how to live lives transformed by glimpsing the terrifying glory of God, we journey with one another through beautiful, amazing, hard, and grace-filled moments. Glimpsing God’s dazzling grace and magnificence in one another or nature, music or laughter transforms us. We, like the disciples, continue learning and living Jesus’ ministry of radical, world-changing love and grace.
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