There are moments in life that pull back the veil, moments when something deeper, truer, and more luminous is revealed. The story of the Transfiguration, as told in Luke 9:28-36, is one such moment, an event that unveils the true nature of Jesus and, in doing so, hints at our own deepest identity. We were created to shine, to reflect the light of God, but we often live in the shadows, unaware of our divine calling. Today, we will explore how Luke’s account of the Transfiguration, with its unique details, reveals not only who Jesus is but who we are meant to be.
In all three Synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, the Transfiguration of Jesus follows a crucial turning point: Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Messiah and Jesus’ first prediction of his suffering and death. This sequence is significant. It suggests that the disciples, having begun to grasp Jesus’ identity, must now learn what kind of Messiah he is. The path ahead is not one of political triumph but of suffering love. And just as they are struggling with this reality, they are given a vision of glory, a foretaste of the resurrection beyond the suffering of the cross.
Did the story happen exactly like this? Are we to take the story literally or symbolically? Each of us will need to make up our own minds about this, but even for those who may wish to interpret the story purely symbolically, it contains rich meaning that can inspire and motivate us as people who have been made to shine.
Luke’s telling of the story has some unique elements that set it apart from Matthew and Mark. Luke alone tells us that Jesus took Peter, James, and John up the mountain “to pray.” Luke tells us that it is in prayer that Jesus is transfigured before them. Prayer, in Luke’s Gospel, is always the context for profound encounters with God. For Luke prayer changes things, opening the door for God to be at work in people’s lives and in the world.
In describing Jesus’ appearance, Mark’s version, the earliest to be written simply says “He became transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them.”
Matthew’s version by contrast says that “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light.” (Matthew 17:2) Luke’s account however says that “the appearance of his face changed and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightening”.
The change in Jesus’ face and light shining from him connects us with the story of Moses where Moses having ascended the mountain to meet with God to receive the law comes down again, but now with his face shining.
Luke also tells us that Moses and Elijah “appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem.” The word for “departure” in the Greek is exodus, evoking Israel’s great journey from slavery to freedom. Here, Jesus’ coming passion/suffering and resurrection are framed not as a tragedy, but as a divine act of liberation – the liberating triumph of sacrificial love.
Another distinctive feature in Luke is the state of the disciples. In Matthew and Mark, they are simply awestruck, but in Luke, they are weighed down with sleep, only fully awakening to the glory just as Moses and Elijah are leaving. There is something profoundly human about this detail, how often do we, too, slumber and sleep through God’s presence, half-asleep to the divine radiance in our midst?
Apart from the connections with the Moses stories, one of the most striking connections to the Old Testament is with the story of the Dedication of the Temple in 1 Kings and 2 Chronicles. When Solomon dedicates the Temple, the glory of YahWeh fills the sanctuary in the form of a cloud, so powerfully that the priests are unable stand to minister.
In the Old Testament story the cloud is seen as a visible sign of God taking up residence among God’s people in the Jerusalem Temple. The cloud symbolizes God's presence, just as it had during Israel’s wilderness journey (Exodus 40:34-38).
Now, in the story of the Transfiguration, we find the same symbolism as this same cloud of glory descends upon Jesus and his disciples on the mountain. But the difference is crucial: in the Old Testament, God’s glory filled a physical structure, a temple made of stone. But here, the divine presence is revealed in a person—Jesus himself. The Transfiguration is, in a sense, the true dedication of the true living Temple: not a building made by human hands, but Christ’s own body, which is filled with divine radiance.
This story is meant to reveal that the ultimate dwelling place of God’s Presence, is meant to be in the human heart. In the very beginning, in Genesis, human beings had a vocation of being Temples of God’s Spirit, barerers of God’s image – made to reflect the Divine Glory – a vocation according to the Genesis sacred myth is lost in the Garden of Eden. But the story of the Transfiguration is meant to tell us that this destiny of humanity to become true and living temples of God’s Spirit is now fulfilled - in Jesus.
But the radiance that shines from Jesus is meant to awaken each of us to our own destiny and vocation – We have all been made to shine. The revelation in the story of the Transfiguration is not just about Jesus—it is also about us. As Paul writes:
“We all, with unveiled faces, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)
Yet, we often forget this truth. Like the disciples, we become drowsy to our own divine calling. We settle for a diminished sense of self, content to live in the half-light rather than the fullness of God’s radiance. The Transfiguration calls us to wake up, to see beyond the ordinary, and to recognize that we are created to shine.
But an important point in the story comes through the Divine Voice which speaks out of the cloud: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" This is crucial. It reminds us that our transformation begins with attentiveness to the Way of Christ. The disciples initially misunderstand, wanting to preserve the moment by building shelters, but the experience is not about staying on the mountain; it is about carrying the light into the world, for as soon as they descend the mountain, the disciples descend directly into a scene of human suffering: a father pleading for his tormented son to be healed. The contrast is striking, glory on the mountain, struggle in the valley. And yet, this is precisely the movement of the spiritual life. We are called not to escape the world but to transform it. To shine is not to retreat from suffering but to bring divine light into it.
The point of the story is not that we are to remain up on the mountain. Times of prayer and encountering the Divine on the mountain tops of life is meant to be followed with an engagement with the world – bringing healing love where there is brokenness and freedom where there is bondage.
As we reflect on this passage, we might ask ourselves:
How do we allow God’s light to shine through us?
In what ways are we being transformed into Christ’s image?
Are we truly listening to the Way and the teachings of Jesus, allowing his voice of Grace to shape our lives in the ways of his goodness and love?
The Transfiguration is both a promise and a calling, a promise that divine radiance is our true nature and a calling to let that light shine in a world longing for hope, love, and divine presence. Amen.