"TRANSFIGURATION 2026"
Exodus 24:12–18; Matthew 17:1–9 02/15/2026
Today we stand at a holy threshold. This is the Sunday of Transfiguration of the Lord, the final Sunday of the Epiphany season. On Wednesday—Ash Wednesday—we begin our Lenten journey. Epiphany has been the season of revelation, the season in which God makes Godself known through Jesus Christ. We confess that without Jesus, we cannot see God clearly. In Jesus, God’s glory takes on flesh so that all people, in every time and place, might truly know God.
Our Scriptures today take us up a mountain: In Book of Exodus 24:12–18, Moses ascends Mount Sinai. The cloud covers the mountain. The glory of the Lord settles there like a consuming fire. Moses waits—forty days and forty nights—surrounded by mystery. And there, in that holy encounter, God gives him the tablets of the covenant, the Ten Commandments. When Moses comes down, his face shines with reflected glory, though he does not even realize it.
In Gospel of Matthew 17:1–9, Jesus goes up a high mountain with Peter, James, and John. And there He is transfigured before them. His face shines like the sun. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear, representing the Law and the Prophets. And the voice of God declares: “This is my Son, the Beloved… listen to him.”
Mountains, in Scripture, are places of revelation. Places where heaven touches earth. Our Watertown area may not be surrounded by towering peaks, but we know what it means to seek a quiet and deserted place—to step away from noise and hurry in order to encounter the holy presence of God.
Have you ever had a holy moment like that? A moment that cannot fully be explained, only experienced. I believe many of you have—that is why you are here. And perhaps some of you are still longing for such a moment, quietly praying, “Lord, let me experience You.” If we seek God’s holy presence, God will encounter us.
I believe God has invested much time and grace in my life. Along my faith journey, I too have experienced holy moments. Today, because our Scripture begins on a mountain, I share with you one of my own mountain stories. (Testimony shared for a few minutes.)
Now let us return to the Gospel: Six days before the Transfiguration, Jesus told His disciples that He must suffer and die. They were confused and disturbed. And let us be honest—Jesus was fully human. Facing suffering and death on a cross was terrifying. Perhaps He felt fear. Perhaps He felt the crushing weight of what was coming. Later, in Gethsemane, He would pray, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want” (Matthew 26:39).
Jesus went up the mountain to pray, as He so often did. But this time He brought three disciples with Him. He sought focused, intentional communion with God. He needed strength. And He knew where to find it.
On that mountain, something extraordinary happened. Jesus’ appearance changed. Divine glory shone through His humanity. Moses and Elijah appeared—not to replace Him, but to affirm Him. The Law and the Prophets pointed to Him. And the voice of God confirmed Him: “This is my Son, the Beloved… listen to him.”
The Transfiguration was not meant to help Jesus escape suffering. It was meant to strengthen Him to face it.
And what about the disciples? They did not fully understand. They were afraid. Whenever we truly encounter the holy, we realize how small we are. Spiritual experiences can be overwhelming—even frightening. Yet they are also filled with deep joy and true peace.
Eventually, Jesus leads them back down the mountain. Down into the valley—where sickness, suffering, doubt, prejudice, and human brokenness remain. When Moses came down from Sinai, he found the people worshiping a false god. The glory of the mountain does not remove the brokenness of the world. It equips us to face it. That is true for us as well.
We need mountaintop moments. We need intentional time away. We need prayer. We need silence. We need to step out of “business as usual” and seek the face of God. Scripture does not only inform our minds—it invites us into spiritual knowing, into encounter.
But we do not climb the mountain to escape the world. We climb it so that we can return with courage, clarity, and light.
As we approach Lent, we are entering our own wilderness journey. Ash Wednesday reminds us of our mortality: “Remember that you are dust.” But it also reminds us that we belong to God.
In the wilderness of Lent, let us take time to be holy. Let us look for sacred spaces and sacred moments. Let us open ourselves to God’s transforming presence.
When we encounter that glory—even briefly—it changes us. Like Moses, we may not even realize it at first, but others will see it. We begin to reflect Christ. We go back down the mountain differently. We return to our daily responsibilities differently. We face our struggles differently. Because we have seen God’s glory.
So I invite you: stay the course. Go forward and do what God has called you to do. Seek your mountain moments. And when you find them, do not cling to them—carry them with you into the world.
May this Lent be a holy journey for you and for me. May we become faces of holiness for others. And may we shine the light of Christ in a world that desperately needs it.
May it be so. Amen.
