Prayerful Transfiguration

A sermon for the Last Sunday after Epiphany
March 2, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, Arkansas

Readings: Luke 9:28-43a

Luke’s a little different compared to Matthew and Mark. John’s the big outlier, of course–the most different of all the gospels. But among Matthew, Mark, and Luke, together called the synoptic gospels, Luke’s a little different. Luke gives us stories the others don’t have. It’s because of Luke that we have the parables of the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son. Could you imagine being a Christian without those? Luke focuses on children and women more. It is Luke, and Luke alone, that gives us the story of Mary’s visit by the angel Gabriel, of Mary’s visit to her cousin Elizabeth where she sings her song. Could you imagine being a Christian without that? Luke also has a particular focus on the Resurrection. Mark leaves us at the empty tomb; Matthew takes us to a mountain for the Great Commission. But Luke… Luke gives us the road to Emmaus, the visit in the room, the promise of the Holy Spirit. Could you imagine being a Christian without that? Luke goes on to give us the book of Acts. Acts is how the church lived all of this out: how we put into practice the Good Samaritan and Prodigal Son; how we say yes to God along with Mary; how we look for the resurrected Christ to visit us on the road and in the assembly; how we wait expectantly for the Holy Spirit day by day. That’s all Luke. And that brings us to today, the last Sunday after the Epiphany where we always read the story of the Transfiguration. It’s recorded in Matthew and Mark, too, but today we read from Luke, and yes, there are some small differences. Some important small differences. 

We read today that Jesus takes his inner circle, Peter, James, and John, up the mountain. No difference there. Mark and Matthew say the same thing. We have the same cast of characters, all going up a mountain. But the timing is different. Matthew and Mark say six days, on a Friday; Luke says eight, on a Sunday morning. Luke wants to connect this event to the Resurrection, which happens as the new week dawns, on the eighth day. Once they are on the mountain, Mark and Matthew tell us that Jesus is transfigured in dazzling light–that’s what’s on the agenda. It happens immediately, just for the disciples to see, and then they go about their business. But not in Luke. Sure, Jesus shines, but Luke doesn’t say transfigured. No, Luke says they went up the mountain to pray. To pray. In Luke’s account, prayer was the agenda. And while Jesus is praying–just as Jesus will pray in a few weeks in the garden of Gethsemane–while he is praying, he is changed, he shines, and he speaks with Moses and Elijah. Luke roots this whole experience in the context of a prayer meeting, and because the disciples stay awake (Matthew and Mark don’t say that, only Luke), they see something incredible. They see Jesus as he really is; they see his divinity, his glory, his godliness, shining in the world. In a sense, they get a peek behind the scenes into Christ’s true nature, 100% God and 100% human; they overhear what’s about to happen in Jerusalem, Jesus’s departure, or literally his exodus. 

The eighth day, on a Sunday morning, at a prayer meeting and seeing the glory of God. Luke, as he often does, is connecting this mountaintop experience to what the church does week after week. We show up for prayer on a Sunday morning. We might be tempted to fall asleep, especially during the sermon. But we stay awake. We watch. We look. And we see the glory of God. We hear the good news of what God has done in Christ in conversation with the law and the prophets. We literally taste the promise of eternal life, the pledge of our inheritance of resurrection life. Luke is telling us that this experience of the Transfiguration is not only for Peter, James, and John, the inner circle. No, it’s also for you. It can be found in this place. Stay awake. Watch. Pray. And witness the glory of Jesus in your very midst. The Transfiguration does not only happen on some faraway mountain; it happens in this room, at this altar, in your heart. 

There’s one other difference. This one comes to us from tradition, not from Scripture. In each synoptic gospel–Matthew, Mark, and yes, Luke–in each one the Transfiguration is followed by the healing of this boy. In each account, Jesus rebukes the disciples for their lack of faith and he heals the boy. In a sense, it’s another Transfiguration. We see Christ’s glory shining again, this time in an act of healing. That happens in each account. But we only read it this year. We only read it when we are reading Luke, in year C. The Matthew and Mark years, we get cut off. Why do we read it this year? What are we supposed to learn?

As I’ve already said, Luke connects the gospel with what the church does week after week. In a sense, he’s giving us a charge. We’ve been to the mountaintop. We have had our prayer meeting and seen the glory of God. We have beheld Jesus shining like the sun in the Holy Scripture, in the bread and wine, in our hearts. And now–Luke is saying–now, the world is broken. Now, there is hurt. Now, there is pain. Now, there is a gospel to proclaim. 

I saw a Transfiguration once. I don’t think anyone else saw the light shining in the darkness, but I did. It wasn’t on a mountaintop; it was at the First United Methodist Church where we were holding the warming shelter. The gym was dark with most folks going to sleep. Dinner had been served. Everyone was winding down. I was nodding off myself, a little cold and a little grumpy. But there was one man who was sitting up on his cot. Having just come in off the cold streets, he was still agitated. He was in tears. I remember it well. And I saw one of you–one of you who is so faithful in prayer, not only on Sundays but throughout the week–I saw one of you go to his cot and put your arm around him. The man didn’t smell good. The man may have looked scary to some. But this person just went over, sat on the cot, put her arm around him, and in a quiet voice, encouraged him. She bound up his wounds. She prayed. I was surprised everyone didn’t wake up from the brightness of the light shining. 

Here at St. Luke’s, we have a slogan: journey inward, journey outward, journey together. I like it alright. But we need to be clear about the order, especially the inward and outward bit. The journey inward must happen first. We come together in prayer first; we are fed by Jesus first; we behold the glory of God first. Then, from the strength of that mountaintop, we are sent out into the world, literally down the stairs, to do the work of the church. To lift up the brokenhearted; to bind up the wounds; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor; to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. And we will see the glory of Jesus.