Last Epiphany
Year C  transfiguration

Eye Candy: “The Transfiguration“, Byzantine mosaic of c. 1100 from the Monastery of Daphni near Athens; “Luminescence” by Livan Kudriashev; “Transfiguration” by Terrance McKillip (scroll down); and by Carl H. Bloch.

Transfiguration, Peter Koenig, https://www.pwkoenig.co.uk/Portfolio/transfiguration 

Ear Worm: “Christ upon the mountain peak”, organ arrangement played by Sean Jackson; alternative tune sung by small choir; relatively dissonant by Peter Cutts.

Brain Food: “Intimations“, haiku by Ken Roukes from the River of Life blog; commentary from Break Open the Word blog;

Transfiguration

It was Jesus of Nazareth all right, the man they’d tramped many a dusty mile with, whose mother and brothers they knew, the one they’d seen as hungry, tired, footsore as the rest of them. But it was also the Messiah, the Christ, in his glory. It was the holiness of the man shining through his humanness, his face so afire with it they were almost blinded.

Even with us something like that happens once in a while. The face of a man walking his child in the park, of a woman picking peas in the garden, of sometimes even the unlikeliest person listening to a concert, say, or standing barefoot in the sand watching the waves roll in, or just having a beer at a Saturday baseball game in July. Every once and so often, something so touching, so incandescent, so alive transfigures the human face that it’s almost beyond bearing.

©Frederick Buechner

Parables: “A beautiful mind” (2001), “protracted struggle with schizophrenia”; “Cast away” (2000), “spiritual tale of man stranded on an island”; “Bringing out the dead“, (1999), a paramedic experiencing a spiritual emergency' "Beauty and the beast" (2014), the traditional story, but in French (with subtitles).

A reflection 

Think of a time when you’ve spent time with God and found yourself with a new understanding of Scripture, a deeper love for life, a sense of awe of the world around you, a renewed soul. Remember the feeling? It almost defies words. 

It doesn’t have to be a huge, life-altering moment—although those are definitely fabulous. I seek out mini-retreats almost daily. I have a lovely instrumental playlist that I like to listen to the last couple of hours of my work day. Many afternoons, I find myself standing on my back deck. I like listening to the gentle music while watching the birds and squirrels. Some days, I feel a gentle breeze if I’m lucky—I love the feel of the wind on my face, and enjoy watching the wind play in the leaves (both on the plants, and on the ground). On any day, one of my favorite pastimes is looking at the clouds and sky, but it takes on a different feeling while I’m standing outside with prayerful, placid music playing in my ears with my face turned heavenwards. 

I’m only outside like that for a few minutes but I feel refreshed and restored. My spirit feels unburdened, and I physically feel lighter. If you’re having trouble remembering a time like that, I hope you’re able to find some time to retreat from the busyness and bustle of daily life to spend with God and creation—even if it’s in your own backyard.

©2022 Beth Chapman

For families: Study guide & activities (former guide); group activities; snacks; kid video.

For children: activity—use guide/activities above (another); bulletin games; craft.

For middlers: activity—use guide/activities above (another); bulletin games; craft.

Coloring page: Luke; Genesis

For youth: A common thing to talk about on this scripture is the difference between a mountain top experience and every day life. The three disciples had an incomparable experience on that mountain top. They couldn't believe their eyes and ears. They even wanted to build temples and stay there forever. But . . . they could not—they had work to do. We all have lives to live, commitments to keep, achievements to accomplish. It's important that we use these "mountain top" experiences (and most of us have them in one way or another) to bolster us when we feel our resolve is waning. But we are to live this life, not an isolated one, not the one after we die. This life, here and now, as children of God. Comments welcome.

On this final Sunday before Lent, the Epiphany theme of the manifestation of Jesus as the Son of God ends with the account of the most striking manifestation of all, prior to the Resurrection. The transfiguration of Christ was the turning point in his ministry, and for this reason, it comes at this turning point in the Church’s year.

In today’s Gospel reading, we are told that the conversation between Jesus and Moses and Elijah concerned his departure (in Greek, “exodus”), which he was to perform in Jerusalem. Luke’s use of exodus reminds us of the close relationship in meaning as well as in time between Passover and the dying and rising of Jesus. Luke also tells us a few verses later that it was at this point that he “set his face to go up to Jerusalem,” to his certain death. So today we set our faces to go through Lent and Good Friday in order to arrive at Easter.

The Old Testament reading gives us a parallel event in the life of Moses. In his encounters with God during his leadership of Israel, Moses’ face was transfigured. The light of God shone forth from him. Starting with that story, Paul, in our second reading, describes the process of our growth in grace and one of gradually being transfigured into the image and likeness of Christ.

Today is traditionally the last Sunday we use “Alleluia” until Easter. It is not that we give up rejoicing, but rather that do this so that the restoration of its use at Easter will be a dramatic sign of Easter’s newness. We now move to our Lenten pilgrimage looking toward the ultimate transfiguration of all people in the eternal Easter.