So far Epiphany has presented us with various pictures of Jesus as the True Bridegroom, the Holy One of God, the one who preaches with authority, casts out demons and heals the sick. He’s the one who calls disciples to follow him and calls us to love even our enemies. He’s the savior of the nations and the glory of Israel. He’s the Redeemer of Jerusalem and the King of the Jews shown by a star and worshipped by sages. He is, at his Baptism, declared to be God’s beloved Son, with whom the Father is well-pleased.
Now we reach the pinnacle, the mountain top of the Epiphany season, and we see Jesus transfigured. Changed. His appearance all bright and shiny and glorious. Moses and Elijah appear. Even the voice of the Father thunders forth from heaven.
I remember hearing this story as a child, and being captivated as I imagined it. Who can blame poor Peter for not knowing what to say when confronted with it all – the glory, the great men of old, the voice of the Father, the radiance of Jesus? What would you or I say if we had a front row seat to all of this?
And yet there is so much more going on here than the spectacle of it all. There’s a reason we visit the Mount of Transfiguration every year in the church calendar. The riches of this event keep on giving, year after year. Let’s undertake again this morning to plumb the depths of the Transfiguration, as we prepare for Christ’s departure, his exodus, his journey to the cross.
It’s maybe worth revisiting that when the Second Person of the Trinity, the very Son of God came down to set foot on this earth, he did so humbly. He took on human flesh in a very unassuming way. There was very little hint of his true glory, if one were to see him swaddled up in the manger, or as a young boy in the temple, or even as an itinerant preacher from Nazareth.
Theology calls this his “state of humiliation”, that time in Christ’s earthly life, in which he set aside (for the most part) his divine power and majesty and glory – and lived humbly, like any one of us, yet without sin. And here’s the difference between his lowliness and ours – we are humiliated by sin and death, the natural consequences of our rebellion against God. We are brought low by our own doing, subject to the prince of this world by casting our lot with him in the garden long ago.
We lost whatever glory we might have had back then, and ever since we’ve been stumbling and bumbling through life wending our way to the grave trying to deny the reality of it all. The truth is we are much worse off than we seem, far less glorious. We are, apart from Christ, more helpless and hopeless, utterly humiliated and laid low by a corrupt nature, wicked thoughts, words and deeds, and a destiny down in the depths of the grave.
Christ’s humility, however was different. He, though being in the very form of God, made himself nothing, taking on the form of a servant, taking on our human flesh, in order to redeem all flesh. He became like us in every way, yet without sin, and that makes all the difference.
I say he set his power and majesty aside “for the most part” however, because even though he ate and slept and wept and walked and did everything we do – he also showed flashes of his divine nature, especially in his miracles. There we get a glimpse of his true identity, that he is indeed, the Holy One, the Son of God.
But even then, some denied it. They said he cast out demons by the prince of demons. They failed to understand about the loaves. They were afraid when they saw him walking on water, or giving a miraculous catch of fish.
At the Transfiguration, it’s staring us, almost slapping us in the face. It’s undeniable. It’s clear as day, brighter than the sun. Christ shines with the glory of God, for he is God’s own beloved Son. And we do well to listen to him.
Not just look at him, the voice of the Father urges us, but listen to him. As astounding to see Christ’s glory revealed here, yet more astounding are his words, his message. So what does he say?
St. Luke actually tells us the topic of conversation - what he was talking about with Moses and Elijah: his departure. The Greek word here is, “exodus”, literally, his “going out”, which we are told he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. What can this mean?
It can only be his cross. Jesus knew he was going to Jerusalem, and he knew exactly what that meant. He had begun to teach it to his disciples, but they were slow learners. He was going to be handed over to sinful men, the chief priests and the scribes, and he would be crucified, and on the third day rise. The closer they go to it, the more plainly Jesus seemed to speak about it.
Like so many other things in the faith, what is most important is not what is seen, but what is said. Romans 10:17 doesn’t say “faith comes by seeing” but, “faith comes by hearing.” Jesus told Thomas that even though he believe when he saw, yet more blessed are those who do not see and yet believe.
Jesus speaks of his cross. And any preacher of Jesus worth his salt will do the same, never veering too far from the topic, the only one that ultimately matters, the good news of Jesus Christ, crucified for sinners.
Now, to be sure, the disciples were given this vision for a reason, and that was not just to wow them with a lightshow. They were blessed to get a peek behind the veil of Christ’s shrouded glory, which of course they would only later understand. But they needed to see that this Jesus who was going to the cross was not just a great prophet like Elijah, not just a great deliverer like Moses. But he is the very Son of God. And if the Son of God dies for your sins, then you know you are saved.
Moses and Elijah appear, not to wow the disciples with their star-power, but to witness, to testify to Jesus as the fulfillment of all their hopes and all their lives’ work. Jesus is the greater Moses who comes to lead his people in an exodus from sin and death. Jesus is the greater Elijah who comes not just as a prophet bearing God’s word, but as the very Word of God made flesh. All the law and the prophets testify to him, Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. The one who for the joy set before him would endure the cross.
And it is also, then, in the Transfiguration, that we get a glimpse of our own future. For just as Christ would not stay forever in his state of humiliation, but would after his resurrection ascend back to glory – so do we have a future hope and promise. We will be like him, for we will see him as he is, in that day, at the resurrection of all flesh. We will be more than transfigured in appearance only, we will receive a glorified body fit to live in the mansions of heaven eternally. A promise we know not by seeing, but only by hearing and believing his word. By listening to him.
We might be tempted to see this Transfiguration of Christ only according to the outward, the seen, the visible glory of Christ shining forth on the mountain.
But don’t be fooled, Christian. Jesus has even better surprises in store. Something more important than a glimpse of glory. He’s going to face death, face it head-on, endure it for us all, and come out victorious on the other side. That’s the true glory. In the cross of Christ I glory, and so do we all as we listen to him. On this Transfiguration Day and always. Amen.
