Today is the last Sunday after the Epiphany. This coming week, we observe Ash Wednesday and the beginning of the season of Lent. But today we linger in this season when we reflect on all the ways God reveals God’s glory in the world, and especially in the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ. Each year on this Sunday, we hear one of the three Gospel accounts of the Transfiguration; Jesus’ eerie, other-worldly encounter with Moses and Elijah, when he was transfigured, transformed, and his face shone with God’s glory.

            Before exploring more deeply Luke’s account of this event, I would like to point out something else from the lectionary. The three lessons we heard today are interconnected; the epistle quite obviously, and problematically, reflecting on Moses’ encounter with God on Mt. Sinai, even as Luke’s story does the same. 

            First of all, Exodus. This puzzling, fascinating story comes from the larger narrative of Israel at Mt. Sinai and the giving of the Law to Moses by God. You may recall that Moses spent forty days on top of the mountain; and when he came down with the two tablets, he discovered the Israelites had made a golden calf and were worshiping it. He threw down the tablets, breaking them, so he had to go back up to plead with God on behalf of the Israelites. Now, he has the second set of tablets and is bringing them down. 

            We’re told that his face shone because of his encounter with God, and sparked fear in the Israelites, which explains why he veiled his face when speaking with them and removed the veil when speaking with God. As an aside, this story, and a mistranslation by Jerome when he was translating the Hebrew into Latin back in the 4^th century, accounts for the iconographic depiction of Moses with horns throughout the History of Art, most famously perhaps in Michelangelo’s statue of Moses.

            We see Paul’s interpretation of Moses’ veiling in the reading from 2 Corinthians. There’s a lot to unpack here and in a way it’s unfortunate that we’re given this text in conjunction with the other readings. Let me just say that a cursory reading, or listening of the text, might lead us to some unfortunate, even evil conclusions about the New Testament superseding the Old Testament; or the binary of evil Old Testament and good New Testament; or Christ abolishing Torah—Jewish law. In fact, Paul here as elsewhere is trying to make space for the continued relevance of the covenant with Jews as well as the relevance of Christ for gentiles. I won’t say more about that here.

            The gospel story of the Transfiguration seems to emphasize the continuity of Christ with the traditions of Judaism. The presence of the two paradigmatic prophets: Moses and Elijah, seem to confirm Jesus’ identity as God’s son, and more importantly, to emphasize the unbroken line of teaching and divine promise that ends in Jesus.

            But there’s a lot more that’s going on here. 

            The story is full of imagery that looks back to the Hebrew Bible and forward to the resurrection. For example, the words that Luke uses to describe Jesus’ appearance are the exact same words he will use when describing the appearance of the angels at the empty tomb—the dazzling clothes appears in both places. But the ways in which this story points backwards in the biblical tradition are even more striking. 

It’s not just the presence of Moses and Elijah, which 21^st century readers might assume is only the gospel writers’ attempts to add to the drama and spectacle. Moses and Elijah were important figures in Jewish speculation. Both had mysterious deaths—Deuteronomy tells us that when Moses died, God buried him, and no one knows the location of his tomb. In the case of Elijah, he didn’t die at all but was carried off to heaven by chariots of fire. Because of this mystery, Jewish apocalyptic thinking focused attention on the return of both figures. 

But their presence may be accounted for in less dramatic fashion. Moses, the lawgiver and Elijah the prophet were two key figures in the development of scripture and Jewish identity—Luke repeatedly tells us that Jesus is the fulfillment of the law and the prophets, so their presence here are a reminder of Jesus’ continuity with the tradition that came before him.

There’s another theme that connects back with earlier tradition and with Moses. Luke tells us that the Moses, Elijah, and Jesus “were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish in Jerusalem.” It’s an odd turn of phrase in English that takes on surprising significance in the Greek, for the Greek word used is “exodus.” With this, Luke is reaching back to the story of God’s deliverance of the Hebrew people from bondage in Egypt to freedom in the promised land, a journey they were on in today’s reading from Exodus. In doing so, he is laying the foundation for his interpretation of the events of the cross and resurrection—like the Exodus Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection liberates us from our bondage to sin and death.

            But there’s another deep resonance with Jewish tradition in this story, one that’s often overlooked by readers or preachers. If you’ve ever heard a sermon on this text by someone other than me, the preacher has probably focused on Peter’s response; his suggestion that they erect booths or dwellings for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah. And the preacher would likely go on to say that this is another example of Peter’s impetuousness and his getting things wrong.

            I don’t think that’s the case. In first century Judaism, as today, one of the major feasts of Judaism is the feast of Sukkoth or Tabernacles; which, among other things, commemorates the Israelites’ time in the wilderness, including at Sinai, when they lived in tents; and God was present among them in a tabernacle—where God’s glory was present.

            All of that imagery is present here—the mountain, Moses, God’s glory, even the voice from heaven. Peter’s response may not be one of disbelief, but rather an attempt to make sense of the experience, to place it in categories that he understands and is comfortable with.

            Think about it. When you have an inexplicable experience; when something happens in the world around you or to you, don’t you try to make sense of it, to figure it out, to categorize it? Whether it’s unprecedent events taking place in the world, or a mysterious encounter with a spiritual being, or even a brush with fate, don’t you try to assimilate it to categories that you know, to put it in a box, if you will, to file it away?

            I think that is going on here. Peter and the other disciples’ encounter with Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, the dazzling white robes, the glory of God, the voice from heaven, all of that was earth-shattering, mind-blowing. Peter’s desire to build dwellings may be an attempt to make that experience a little more manageable.

            I think it’s something scholars have also long done with this story; to assimilate it to the resurrection; or to write it off. The transfiguration is a mind-blowing story, eluding our grasp, escaping our efforts to analyze it. What we do know is what happens next; Jesus and the disciples come down from the mountain and begin making their way to Jerusalem.

            It’s a journey we are also on this Lent, as we turn away from the season of Epiphany and the glory of God’s manifestations in the world, and head toward Calvary and the Cross. That too, is a manifestation of God’s glory, the glory of God’s love for us the glory of God’s victory over evil and death. As we enter the glory of these forty days of Lent, may we be open to God’s voice, speaking to us, and to God’s presence, moving us into deeper relationship with Jesus Christ.