ARTICLE BY FATHER FRANCIS MAPLE - LINK HERE
There are moments in life when everything suddenly becomes clear.
A mountain climber reaches the summit after hours of struggle, and the whole landscape opens before them. A couple welcomes a newborn child, and their priorities instantly change. A person receives a diagnosis or experiences an unexpected kindness, and life is never quite the same again. The Transfiguration is one of those moments.
Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain. They have already begun to sense that He is the Messiah, but they still imagine a Messiah of power and victory. Soon they will hear Jesus speak about suffering, rejection, and the cross. None of it makes sense to them. So Jesus gives them a glimpse - not of what He used to be, but of who He truly is. His face shines. His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear, representing the Law and the Prophets. And then the Father's voice speaks: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him."
Notice that the Father's command is not, "Admire Him." It is not, "Build something for Him." It is simply: Listen to Him. That is perhaps the hardest command of all. Peter wants to build three tents. It's an understandable reaction. We all want to preserve beautiful moments. We want to stay on the mountaintop. But discipleship doesn't happen on the mountain. It happens in the valley.
After the Transfiguration comes the road to Jerusalem. After the glory comes Gethsemane. After the dazzling light comes the darkness of Calvary. The mountain is not the destination. It is preparation.
God sometimes gives us moments of grace - a retreat that renews our faith, a prayer that fills us with peace, a reconciliation that heals an old wound, the quiet certainty that God is with us. Those experiences are precious gifts. But they are never meant to become permanent residences. They are meant to strengthen us for ordinary life.
Every Sunday can be a little Mount Tabor. We come here (to church) weary, distracted, burdened by work, family concerns, illness, grief, or uncertainty. We hear God's Word. We receive Christ in the Eucharist. For a brief moment, heaven seems closer. Then the Mass ends. We don't remain on the mountain. We go back into our homes, our workplaces, our schools, our neighbourhoods. We return to the ordinary world - but we are meant to return changed.
The Transfiguration teaches us that glory is hidden within ordinary life. The same Jesus who shines with divine splendour is the Jesus who washes feet, touches lepers, forgives sinners, and carries a cross. And if that is true for Christ, it is also true for us.
Most holiness is not spectacular. It is found in daily fidelity: forgiving when it is difficult, praying when we feel dry, serving without recognition, remaining faithful to our commitments, loving the people God has placed before us. Those ordinary acts may not look glorious. But in God's eyes, they already shine with the light of heaven.
The Transfiguration also reminds us that our destiny is not darkness but glory. The light shining from Christ is not only revealing who He is; it is revealing what God intends for humanity. Christ's glory is a promise of our own.
St. Paul says that Christ "will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body." The light of Tabor points beyond the cross to the resurrection. That is why Christians are people of hope.
We know suffering is real. We do not deny it. But neither do we believe that suffering has the last word. The last word belongs to God. And God's last word is life.
So today the Father speaks to us as He spoke to Peter, James, and John: "This is My beloved Son. Listen to him." Listen to Him when He says, "Do not be afraid." Listen to Him when He says, "Love your enemies." Listen to Him when He says, "Take up your cross." Listen to Him when He says, "I am with you always." If we listen to Him - not just with our ears but with our lives - then one day we will no longer need glimpses of His glory. We will see Him face to face. And the light that shone on Mount Tabor will be our eternal home. Amen.

No comments:
Post a Comment
We like to hear from you. Please comment here. Anonymous comments accepted. Please be kind.