I’ve preached on this Gospel many times and I’ve read it countless times. Yet, each time I read about the Transfiguration of Christ, I discover new meaning, fresh questions, and deeper insights into Christian doctrine.
I remember reading this passage one time and feeling a surge of curiosity. It left me wondering about the limited participation of the Apostles—only three were present. Why not the other nine? Why weren’t they invited to such a special event?
Then, the three Apostles witness Jesus conversing with Moses and Elijah, two prophets from the Old Testament. How did they recognize them? Did Jesus introduce them, or did Moses and Elijah introduce themselves? No explanation is given, and we are left to wonder.
Next, there’s the voice from the cloud, declaring, “This is My Son. Listen to Him.”
It’s clearly God speaking, but did the Apostles hear it with their ears? Or was this something heard only in their hearts? If they heard this with their ears, I can’t help but wonder: why doesn’t God speak to us in the same way? Wouldn’t it be helpful to hear that kind of guidance from Heaven every now and then?
Finally, Jesus instructs the Apostles not to report what they had seen. What a strange command. How could they keep such an extraordinary experience a secret?
The Transfiguration is beyond our experience. We’ve never witnessed anything like it. It appears in the Gospels of Mark, Matthew, and Luke, but none offer an explanation of its meaning or relevance to us. In some ways, it remains a mystery—a glimpse into another world that we don’t fully grasp. But the truth is, we don’t understand most things.
We know what electricity is, but few of us truly understand how it works. I still can’t quite comprehend how a brown cow eats green grass and produces white milk.
The Transfiguration leaves us wondering, as many things do. But it teaches us how to face life’s mysteries. It tells us that patience can help us understand. If we wait, things often become clearer. The Apostles didn’t understand when Jesus spoke about rising from the dead, but on that first Easter morning, it became a fact of history.
We don’t understand much about our own lives, either. Still, most of us live by faith. Jesus Himself lived much of His life by faith, trusting in God the Father, even through the crucifixion.
What is true for every Christian is that we live by faith. That’s why the 40 days of Lent are so important. It’s not a yearly interruption into our comfortable lives. It’s not just a pre-Easter fast or a way to shed a few pounds for the beach. Lent is a time to renew our Christian identity and our faith.
Yet, there’s the flip side. From Aristotle to Einstein, from St. Thomas Aquinas to Stephen Hawking, the human mind is capable of discovering so much. But I’d trade all that knowledge in an instant for a faith that can be found on mountaintops—the kind of faith that trusts in God while bearing life’s crosses—whether illness, anxiety, or broken relationships.
There are critics who might tend to view faith as a crutch for those who cannot deal with reality. But faith is not weakness. It is the power of God. Living, loving faith is the greatest gift God gives us.
Every so often, we should remember the words of St. Augustine, a skilled Theologian and Philosopher: “Faith is to believe what we do not yet see. The reward of this faith is to see what we believe.”
