The Rev. Dr. Brandon Perrine
Transfiguration A
Matthew 17:1-9
February 15, 2026
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will set up three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they raised their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”
~o~
Many preachers struggle with what to do with the story of the Transfiguration. You’ve just listened to it. Jesus takes three disciples up a mountain where they’re met by the ancient law-giver Moses and the ancient prophet Elijah. Jesus gets all shiny and bright. A voice from heaven speaks and then the lights go out. Like it never happened. Are you surprised that it’s a tough one to preach?
As far as I can tell, it confused the heck out of the disciples! James and John are speechless and Peter is talking about pitching tents for Jesus and his long-deceased friends. I do wonder if even Peter thought that was a good idea, or if his mouth just ran that much ahead of his brain. What if Jesus had said yes to the tents? Had Peter brought any? Would he have had to run all the way back down the mountain, find some tents, climb back up the mountain, and then make camp for everyone? I actually bet he would have been relieved that his idea didn’t get any traction with Jesus. I can definitely relate to Peter here.
And then, a bright cloud overshadowed them and the divine voice reaffirmed the words spoken at Jesus’ baptism: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased.” And then the voice added, “Listen to him!” Immediately, the disciples dropped to their knees, the strange apparitions disappeared, and it was just them alone once more with Jesus. Did that really just happen?
I’m not gonna lie, I’ve asked myself more than once why in the world Mark ever put this story to paper—a story that both Matthew and Luke glom onto like flies in honey. Some perplexed scholars have even suggested that this originated as a post resurrection story that somehow got stuck in the wrong place in the text. Some suggest that the point of the story is to strengthen the disciple’s faith to face the coming crucifixion; others suggest that it illustrated the meeting of human and divine in the person of Jesus; others suggest that it confirms Jesus authority; and others say it is a foretaste of post resurrection glory. And that all sounds good, I guess. But to me, it feels rather anticlimactic. There’s a mountaintop, dead patriarchs, bright light and sparkly Jesus and a voice from heaven. And then, as if it had never happened, it was just the disciples alone with Jesus.
Then again, I would say that there are far worse places one could find oneself than alone with Jesus. I’d be willing to bet that most of us, at one time or another, have felt exactly that. Things are hard, we’re feeling down, the world is a mess, our jobs are challenging, our families are making us crazy, we get bad news…and it’s just us, alone with Jesus. And somehow that’s enough.
Maybe it’s enough for us because in Jesus we see the perfect union of human and divine—in him we believe that the God of the Cosmos experienced what we experience and it gives us comfort to know that we’re not alone. Maybe it’s enough for us because in the life and teachings of Jesus, we find inspiration to navigate the lonely places of life. Maybe it’s enough for us because in Jesus we see ourselves—figuring out how to make the most of his time, just like us. Maybe it’s enough because Jesus reminds us of the divine within ourselves—equipping us for much more than we ever believed possible. Maybe it’s enough just to know that whether we’re on a mountaintop or in a valley, it’s nowhere Jesus himself didn’t go. However we see Jesus, maybe it’s enough to find ourselves alone with him. The company could definitely be worse, right?
We’re here today, celebrating the Transfiguration, and enjoying jazz worship, and fantasizing about the Fat Sunday Chocolate Fest afterward, all in a decidedly Christian church because we do find something compelling about the person of Jesus. We don’t all find the same things compelling about him; we may not agree 100% on who he was and is and was about, but I think it’s safe to assume that we’re all grateful he lived. Jesus is the thing we have in common. Living and loving like Jesus is the mandate we share. Maybe it’s not so bad to find ourselves on the mountaintop together, alone with Jesus. But we don’t stay on the mountain with him, do we?
We go back down again and Jesus comes with us as we return to those same messy realities we left to have alone time with him in the first place. But we listen to him. And as we do, we show up for our families, our coworkers, our friends—and even ourselves—more fully. We serve our neighbors and we serve those with needs big and small with greater capacity for empathy. We fight the good fight for access to housing and healthcare and necessities with greater courage. We stare down the consequences of living boldly on the side of justice, compassion, and care with greater clarity. We sit by a friend’s sick bed with greater presence. We deal with the day-to-day struggles of life and the big set-backs of life with greater centeredness and peace.
Jesus didn’t stay on the mountaintop and neither do we. We go back down again into the places where life really happened for Jesus—and happens for us every single day. But no matter what, we’re not alone there. And that is some powerfully good news.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
