Climbing to the top of Mt. Tabor today is not nearly the task that it must have been when Jesus and three of his apostles did so during their lifetimes. Tour buses park at the base of the mountain. The pilgrims then exit the buses and are loaded into a series of taxis which promptly take off and start the climb up a series of switch back roads at a rate of speed that belies their desire to make as many trips as possible to collect as many fares as possible. At the top of the mountain is a rather new Franciscan monastery and church built on the ruins of two other basilicas from the 6th and 12th centuries. I have been privileged to celebrate Mass in one of the side chapels of the beautiful Church back in the year 2000 when I served as a chaplain for a group of Chicago pilgrims. One cannot help but wonder about the Church which is divided into three distinct worship spaces, one for St. Moses, one for St. Elijah, and the center one for Our Lord Jesus Christ. Though Jesus did not want Peter to build three tents for them so that they could stay on top of the mountain, architects throughout the history of the history of Israel have ignored Jesus’ words and built a beautiful memorial of the event we celebrate today.
The episode that we call the Transfiguration is remembered twice each liturgical year, first on the Second Sunday of Lent and again on August 6. The feast is considered so important that when August 6 falls on a Sunday, it supplants the ordinary Sunday Liturgy.
This event is one in a long line of theophanies. A theophany is a vision of God. We hear of them usually as dreams or visions. Abraham entertained God under the terebinth of Mamre while napping in the heat of the day. Jacob was visited twice by God. The first while he was sleeping and the second when he wrestled with God in the middle of the night. Moses climbed Mt. Horeb and saw God in a burning bush. The reading from the Book of Daniel today tells of his theophany. The Book of Revelation tells of a theophany seen during a dream by the sacred writer of that text.
Theophanies have several common elements. They often take place on mountains or high places. They often involve clouds. Sometimes there are peals of thunder and even a little lightening. Many times the visionary is not aware of what is seen until it is over.
In the theophany that we call the Transfiguration, the one thing that is not common to the others is that Jesus is the one who is revealed as God. The glory of God, the beauty and brightness of God’s countenance, and the white garments of God break through the human figure of Jesus and are revealed to three frightened apostles. They are so frightened, St. Matthew tells us, that they fell on their faces and worshiped. When Jesus touches them and tells them not to be afraid, the vision is gone. Jesus tells them not to tell anyone what they had heard. This little detail is very interesting. He doesn’t tell them to keep what they had seen a secret – only what they had heard. Indeed, it was the voice and the cloud that had enveloped the mountain top that had frightened them. The vision of the transfigured Jesus had not. The Gospel tells us that as Peter gazed at Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, he suggested that they camp out there and enjoy the vision as long as possible. Only when the voice reminded them who Jesus was did they take fright.
We have to admit that had we been privileged to be there when it happened, we wouldn’t want to leave either. Once one gets to one’s destination, one usually doesn’t want to leave. Peter obviously thought that he was enjoying the culmination of his life. He was in heaven with Moses and Elijah and his Master. Why leave? A life a toil and drudgery awaited them at the bottom of the mountain.
However, the Gospel also tells us that something else was waiting at the base of the mountain. Though the lectionary picks up the story in the middle of verse one of chapter seventeen, the beginning of the verse tells us that the Transfiguration happened six days after Jesus had told them that he would be killed in Jerusalem. Not only that, he had also told them that if they wished to be his disciples, they had to pick up their own crosses and follow after him. I don’t know about you, but if that is what was waiting for me at the base of the mountain, I would have wanted to stay up there as well. Jesus would have none of it. He led them back down the mountain, back to the reality of their lives having given them but a foretaste of what was to come.
The kind of death that Jesus endured for our sake was the most shameful death one could imagine. As I have said before and as I will continue to remind you in homily after homily, this culture was driven by the need to preserve one’s honor and to avoid shame. So it is not at all unusual that the evangelist would recount this event as a counterweight to the previous pronouncement. Death by crucifixion would have been considered a scandal among the early Christians. The Transfiguration was included in all three of the synoptic Gospels in order to help the early Church come to terms with that scandal. It is their way of saying that the glory of the Resurrection to come will far surpass the shame of Jesus’ death.
The Second Letter of St. Peter uses the voice heard on Mt. Tabor and at the Jordan River to help his community come to an understanding of what had happened to Jesus. He writes: “You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” Once again, we find ourselves pondering the “now but not yet” character of the Gospel. Jesus did usher in a new age, but we await the culmination of what he has promised. Our brothers and sisters of the Old Covenant waited thousands of years for the fulfillment of the promises made to their ancestors. Like them, we wait for the fulfillment of the promises made to us by Jesus. Just as God was faithful to the promises he made to Abraham and all the patriarchs of Israel, God will be faithful to the promise made to us through Jesus. Heaven awaits those who are faithful. The Transfiguration of Jesus shows us a glimpse of what we can expect.
Until that day, we continue to gather around the table of the Lord where we will receive a foretaste of the heavenly banquet. In the Eucharist, under the simple and unremarkable appearances of bread and wine, we see Jesus, not as Peter, James and John saw him, but the same Jesus nonetheless. Like them, we worship what we see and heed the voice that tells us to “Listen to Him,” the Beloved Son of God.
Fr. Lawrence Jagdfeld, O.F.M., Administrator