Pondering the Transfiguration

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Sunday’s Gospel reading was about the Transfiguration. It’s a familiar story to us Catholics; all three of the Synoptic Gospels tell of Jesus taking Peter, James and John up a mountain, where his clothes become blinding white and he converses with Moses and Elijah.

The Gospels differ in a couple of minor details, but they are remarkably similar in other particulars, such as Peter saying he wants to erect three tents on the spot, that a cloud came over them and a voice spoke from that cloud saying, “This is my beloved Son, listen to him.” (In Matthew’s account, the voice adds that it is “well-pleased” with the Son.)

At Mass we hear this story at least once a year; those of us who say the rosary also recite it each week as the fourth Luminous Mystery.  

Although the telling of the Transfiguration takes up at most 12 verses in the Bible, the symbolism of each detail has been the subject of much commentary. For example, going up a mountain is a frequent prelude to humans encountering God – think of Abraham preparing to sacrifice his son, Moses receiving the Ten Commandments, Elijah hearing the “tiny whispering sound.”

Minutiae like this fascinate me, but I can spend so much time learning about the details that I fail to simply sit with the story and let it deepen my relationship with Christ, which is the point of pondering the Scriptures. To this end, on Saturday I devoted an hour or so to imagining that I was there alongside the three Apostles.

Envisioning Jesus talking to Moses and Elijah was simple enough, but I had absolutely no emotional reaction to the sight of the Lord talking to the Lawgiver and the Prophet. Here is a moment when Jesus revealed his divine glory, a moment that showed clearly that Jesus was the fulfillment of the Old Testament, a moment in which, as Pope Benedict XVI wrote, “Jesus wishes to give his closest friends the experience of this light which dwells within him.”

Can you imagine the Lord sharing with you the light that dwells in him? Apparently, I can’t. I could picture the illuminated Christ, hear the voice from the cloud, but it had no more emotional resonance than viewing a slideshow. The three Apostles must have been struck with awe at what they had seen – the Bible tells us that Peter babbled, not knowing what he was saying. Surely I, in contemplating this scene, should feel the same.

But I didn’t. Nor did I feel wonder the next day when I again contemplated the Transfiguration. It didn’t change the next day, either, or the next. It wasn’t until last night, finally, that a new thought occurred to me: I was bringing all my knowledge to the scene and hoping for more, rather than obeying the voice from the cloud said: “Listen to him.”

And what did Jesus say? “Rise, and do not be afraid.”

For several reasons these words hit home, and although I still pray that I will feel awe the next time I contemplate the Transfiguration, for today I am content that God has given me what I need rather than what I want.

Marie Mischel is editor of the Intermountain Catholic. Reach her at marie@icatholic.org.