(Luke 9.28-36) Transfiguration
3 March 2019 – © Neil Millar
This Sunday marks an ending in the church’s liturgical calendar. Over the past two months in the season of Epiphany, we’ve been reflecting on events in the gospels that reveal Jesus’ divinity – the coming of the Magi, his baptism in the Jordan, the miracle at Cana, the Jubilee pronouncement in the synagogue in Nazareth. The reading today, (the last Sunday in Epiphany) marks a high point in the story – literally and symbolically. On the Mount of Transfiguration, three disciples are given a perspective on reality that we rarely (if ever) see – a glimpse of the purity and beauty of God’s radiance in the physicality of the ordinary, a vision of what Richard Rohr calls ‘deep time’, when past or future mysteriously appear in the present moment, a glimpse into Eternity. At the same time, beyond this astonishing ‘mountain top’ experience hangs a cloud of impending darkness. In the season of Lent, we recount how this darkening threatens to overcome everything. What the Transfiguration signifies, on the threshold of this descent, is that as bleak as things get, it is not the end of it, for within this darkness, GOD IS! – lovingly reconciling the whole of it, from the very heart of it.
The story opens with what could easily be overlooked as a cursory segue, but even here, there are hints of what is and is to come. ‘Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray’ (29). On one level, it sounds like a very casual introduction, but actually, Luke is communicating important information. For a start, he’s making a deliberate connection between what’s about to happen and Jesus’ previous sayings. It’s not just that the Transfiguration took place after these saying, but that it’s to be interpreted in their light. If they hadn’t been relevant, he wouldn’t have referred to them. By making the link explicit, he’s telling us that they’ll help us understand what happens next.
So, what were ‘these sayings’? What had Jesus just been teaching? If we look back, we’ll see that he’s just informed his disciples (for the first time) that he’ll be rejected and killed at the hands of religious authorities, ‘and on the third day be raised’ (22). He’s also stated that anyone who wants to be a disciple will have to take up ‘their cross’ and follow him (23). For, he said, ‘those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it’ (24). The Transfiguration happens in the context of Jesus speaking about his death, and the cost of discipleship.
Another thing that deserves comment in this little segue, is the reference to eight – ‘about eight days after these sayings…’ In the Hebrew imagination, seven represents culmination. God created the world in six days and on the seventh, rested. Seven denotes the completion of creation, and the number eight signifies a new beginning – a new creation. In other words, Luke is not just giving a chronological time-marker here, he’s alluding to a deeper theological reality. In the context of ‘these sayings’ (about dark times ahead), the reference to eight hints at the deeper meaning of what is coming to pass. So, off they went, ‘up on the mountain to pray’ – Jesus, Peter, James and John.
‘And, while [Jesus] was praying,’ Luke says, ‘the appearance of his face was changed and his clothes became dazzling white.’ While he was praying… In Luke’s gospel, the necessity of prayer is repeatedly highlighted. There are more references to prayer in this gospel than the other three combined. And, in Luke’s account, there’s a clear connection between the practice of prayer and a deepening awareness of God. It happened after Jesus’ baptism; while he was praying: the heavens open, the Spirit descended, and a voice came saying, ‘you are my beloved Son…’. It happened for the disciples after the Ascension (Acts 1.14); they ‘were constantly devoting themselves to prayer’, and then comes the great outpouring of the Spirit (Acts 2). Here, in Luke 9, we see another instance of this connection: ‘And while he was praying, the appearance of his face was changed and his clothes became dazzling white.’ In each of these examples, prayer opens the pray-er (and sometimes even those around them) to a depth of reality not usually evident. It’s what’s happening here, as Jesus prays, their eyes and ears become more attuned:
Suddenly, they saw two men, Moses and Elijah talking to [Jesus]. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. (30-31)
As Jesus prays, something extraordinary opens before them. They receive a glimpse of unimaginable light. For a moment, the veil between the living and the dead is lifted. Jesus, their contemporary, is speaking with two of the ancestors, and the disciples are perceiving it – seeing them, hearing them talking together. They’re in deep time, which is different to being in an alternate reality as they’ve been magically transported to another planet or entered an entirely different world. This isn’t a parallel universe – it’s this time, this world unveiled, and there are a number of ways Luke communicates this. First, we’re told that Jesus, Moses and Elijah were speaking not of otherworldly matters, but about ‘his departure which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem’ (31). In other words, about immediate events, the very things that Jesus had been teaching them previously. In the next verse, Luke insists that when all of this was being witnessed, the disciples were not in some trance or dreamlike state, but rather were alert: ‘Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, [or, it could be translated, because they were fully awake] they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him’. The Transfiguration is no hallucination, it’s an experience of the depth and fullness of what is, of what is normally beyond our sight and awareness – ‘Now we see through a glass, darkly’, Paul writes to the Corinthians, ‘… now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known’. The Transfiguration is a vision of reality made more transparent. It is a gift for these disciples, an awareness they’ll be able to draw on in the days ahead.
But wait a minute. What’s this about days ahead, especially difficult days? Why not stick with this?! ‘Just as they) were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah”.’ You can understand Peter’s desire to preserve this experience, to stay on the mountain basking in glory – it’s great, but it’s not the fulfilment, remember it’s the eighth day, just the beginning. There’s more to be accomplished and that means pressing on – relinquishing what is, moving toward what is not yet.
This is one of the most significant and difficult truths of the spiritual life and it doesn’t sit that easily with desires for security, significance and pleasure. But what Peter needs to learn is that to keep following Jesus, to participate in the fulfilling of his purpose, we need to be willing to be dispossessed of what we already have. ‘Those who want to save their live will lose it,’ Jesus said, ‘and those who lose their life for my sake will save it.’
Mostly, of course, we prefer not to lose what we have. We want to keep adding to our stockpile – wealth, possessions, reputation, security and accomplishment. And the thing is that building isn’t all bad. Spiritual disciplines like prayer are about building resilience and ‘muscle’. You don’t let go of these disciplines, you keep practising, learning, growing stronger. And there is a time for building other things too – structures, communities, finances – to enable continuity and a springboard for action. But there’s another kind of growth that requires letting go – the risk of relinquishment and self-dispossession. The tricky bit in the spiritual life is to discern when to hold on in order to build on what we have, and when to let go of what is, in order to be available for and become what is not yet.
Fifth century theologian Gregory of Nyssa once wrote that ‘sin happens whenever we stop growing’. Peter wanted to preserve his experience of glory and keep it safe for this little band of disciples; wanted to remain where he was. And it can be like that for us. Part of what can stop us growing as individuals, churches, cultures – achieving our fuller purpose – is that we cling too tightly to what we already have. The deeper wisdom of Jesus is that this private gain and the security it affords must be relinquished to make for the good of all. ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily, and follow me,’ Jesus said. So, this story invites us to reflect. What in your life, and what in our life together must we preserve and what must we be willing to let go?
The event of Transfiguration happens at a pivotal moment in the gospel narrative. Jesus is about to set his face to Jerusalem – the journey to the cross begins in earnest. The disciples are invited to journey with him and so are we, as we enter the season of Lent. On the brink of this descent, Jesus and those with him receive a vision of the fullness of things – the past in the present, the Glory in the ordinary, a sense of presence and light that will hold them through the darkness to come. A light still shining when all other lights have gone out. This awareness is a gift. Clinging to it as a possession gets in the way of growth and the fulfilment of God’s purposes. But remembering it, trusting it, drawing sustenance from it, keeps us going even in the darkest of times.
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