In 2011, a group of us from St. George’s went to the Holy Land on a pilgrimage, hoping to have firsthand experience of the places where Jesus lived and taught and revealed himself as God’s Son to the world. We traveled up and down and all around the relatively small area of Israel and Palestine over the course of 10 days, visiting many of the places that we’ve just read about over the course of this Season After the Epiphany.
We visited the banks of the Jordan River, where John the Baptist baptized Jesus. We saw the town of Cana, where Jesus changed water into wine. We peered off the cliff where the people of Nazareth tried to throw Jesus to an early death. We also stopped at Mount Tabor, the traditional place of Jesus’ transfiguration. Mount Tabor is a small, rounded mountain set in a large valley near Nazareth.
To get up Mount Tabor, you must leave your comfortable tour bus at the foot of the mountain and step on a small shuttle bus that takes you to the top. We happened to visit Mount Tabor on a gray and rainy day, so it was pouring and miserable weather when we got on the shuttle, and when we got to the top of the mountain, it felt like we were now in the middle of the clouds. I have to say, as we drove up Mount Tabor, I thought to myself, This doesn’t seem like the kind of place where something special would have happened.
And yet something very important did happen there on that little mountain. Jesus’ revelation of his identity has been happening slowly throughout the gospels. During Epiphany we reflect on stories in which Jesus’ identity is being revealed to those around him. Jesus didn’t go around all day saying, “Hey, everyone, check this out — I’m the Messiah.”
At key moments he did make clear who he was, but for the most part he preferred to go about his ministry — to teach, to heal, to raise from the dead — and allow those actions to raise questions in people’s hearts. Throughout the Gospels, we see the people around Jesus wondering and whispering to each other, “Who is this man? Where did he come from? Where did he find the power to do what he does?” And we see their range of responses — some are joyful and excited, some are confused, others are suspicious and threatened.
In this story, Jesus takes three of his disciples aside for some time away to pray up on a mountaintop. In Scripture, going up a mountain is not just an ordinary action — going to a mountaintop usually results in an encounter with God for people in the Bible. We think of Moses, who had many encounters with God on Mount Sinai, where God appeared him in such a special way that Moses’ skin began to shine as he soaked in the light of God’s presence.
We also hear echoes of Elijah, who heard from God on Mount Sinai, not in an earthquake or a fire or a mighty wind, but in a still, small voice. And this trip on a mountain also results in a special encounter. As Jesus begins to pray to his heavenly Father, his appearance begins to change, and his face and clothes begin to shine and turn radiantly white. If that weren’t enough to dazzle the disciples, next they see two figures appear beside Jesus, those ancient prophets Moses and Elijah, who discuss with Jesus his journey to Jerusalem, where he will offer himself for his people so that they might be delivered.
Then, just to blow their minds a little bit more, they hear a voice coming from the clouds: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” It probably brought to mind for them the voice that spoke from heaven at Jesus’ baptism — “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Here, in the presence of just three of his disciples, Jesus is revealed fully as the Son of God, radiant in his heavenly glory, and as the Messiah, the new Moses and new Elijah, sent to save his people.
We call this story the Transfiguration to refer to the change in Jesus’ appearance, but his is not the only transformation going on here. Peter and James and John are forever changed by this vision of their Master and Teacher reflecting the light of his Father. They don’t tell anyone immediately what they saw on that mountain, but after the resurrection, once Jesus is vindicated, they share this story of what they saw on Mount Tabor, and if you read Acts, you’ll see that these three fishermen from Galilee are never the same again.
This reminds us that the truth of Jesus’ identity is not simply a theological fact that sits on a shelf or in dusty books full of creeds. The truth of Jesus is not merely something that we assent to each Sunday at church and then go on with our lives as usual. The truth of Jesus’ identity, once it has burst forth upon our lives, transforms us and our identity as well.
When Jesus is transfigured before us, we see that in him we have the right to become children of God, and that identity as God’s beloved children becomes the unshakable core of who we are. In his light we see that God wants to transform the darkness in our lives in the light of his presence. In his light we see that God wants to remake us into the image of Christ, so that we too will radiate God’s light and goodness to the world around us.
That day on Mount Tabor, it seemed like a pretty dreary and mundane place at first. But then something happened on that mountaintop that I will never forget. There’s a Franciscan church at the top of the mountain, and we were very grateful to go inside, out of the cold rain. Our tour guide, Father Kamal, showed us the beautiful mosaics in the church, depicting Jesus transfigured before the three disciples and Moses and Elijah appearing beside him.
This church is specially designed so that on August 6, the traditional day to commemorate the Transfiguration, the light shining through the western windows hits a glass plate in the floor and then bounces up and illuminates these mosaics, and makes them even more radiant and beautiful than they were on the day when we saw them. Then we zipped up our raincoats and readied our umbrellas as we headed back outside.
But we found a world outside that was completely changed. The rain had stopped, the clouds had lifted above us, and the sun shone brilliantly, lighting up the church as though it was at the center of a spotlight, made even more dramatic by the bank of dark clouds on the horizon. And then we saw a rainbow glowing in the sky over the church. It was as though God reenacted the Transfiguration in a small way on that same mountain just for us that day. It gave me a little glimpse of what it was like when Jesus’ true identity shone through and radiated the light of his heavenly glory to his disciples. I felt the Spirit of God saying, “This is what it is like when I enter your life as well. I love to bring light into darkness, to make all things new, to break into the ordinary and make it extraordinary.”
I wonder how this story of the Transfiguration might guide us as we enter Lent. What do you desire to be transfigured or transformed in your life? Where do you need to hear God say to you, “You are my son, you are my daughter, I have chosen you, I have called you by name, you are mine”? How do you long to see more of Christ’s presence in your life and in the lives of the people around you?
I pray along with Saint Paul that in this Lent each of us, with unveiled faces, may see the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, and may we be transformed into the same image of Christ from one degree of glory to another.
The Rev. Sarah Puryear lives in Nashville with her family and serves as priest associate at St. George’s Episcopal Church.
