Matthew 17:1-9

Of all the things that bring intrigue to this story—the countenance of Jesus transforming before their eyes, Moses and Elijah just hanging out, and the theophany of the cloud—I’m most captivated by the secret nature of the Transfiguration on the mountaintop. According to Matthew, Jesus gives these disciples strict instruction not to tell a soul of the divine encounter (Matthew 17:9b). The messianic secret is a more prominent theme in Mark’s gospel. Still, it makes its way here in Matthew as well.

I’m curious about why that may be. What could have been the consequence if they did scale their way down and began to say, “We just saw something incredible! The fulfillment of our hopes and dreams. Moses! Elijah! The days are near! We’re on the right team. Jesus is the guy! Let’s crown him now! We’re unstoppable!” Would people believe they witnessed such a moment of grandeur? What might the powers and principalities have done if they heard of Jesus transfiguring to reveal the glory of God?

They better listen to the instruction given to the one whom the voice from heaven commanded them to listen to do not tell a soul.

We are now on the other side of this story, confessing that God has acted in history to raise the Son of Man from the dead. The secret is out. We know. The disciples were free to tell of this mountaintop moment after they witnessed the resurrected Christ. The story has been canonized and treasured as a part of our Scriptures for centuries.

Still, what do we make of it? It is almost as wild to our modern sensibilities as the resurrection itself. An instant metamorphosis? Phenomenal. Beyond what we can imagine.

While the transfiguration story belongs to all the Synoptics, each has it in a unique place as the gospel writers retell the story. While they all place this as the ensuring narrative after Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi, each writer has their distinctive twist on where this story fits in the story of Jesus.

Matthew’s placing of the transfiguration narrative provides a clue as to why the disciples receive this theophany, and it is not meant for others before his death and resurrection. When sparring with the Pharisees in Matthew 16, Jesus refuses to give in to their demand for a sign. The only sign he will give is the sign of Jonah - swallowed up by the depths of Sheol only to get spit out on the third day.[1]

I’d guess the sign the Pharisees wanted would be precisely what the disciples saw on that mountaintop on the day of the transfiguration. I imagine they longed to see that grand appearance of Elijah to know that this peasant man from Galilee could indeed be the Son of Man. Moses, to boot? Too much goodness to take in.

But the revelation is given only to Jesus’s inner circle of disciples. They aren’t sleepy here[2] - they are wide awake to see Moses and Elijah conversing with Jesus.

We must be sympathetic to Peter, James, and John’s impulse to build a booth for each to honor them. This, of course, is a misstep, and we know it immediately because the divine presence comes as a thundering boom: “This is my son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

They fall in fear, and Jesus lifts their heads. “Don’t be afraid. But also don’t tell. They look and see plain, ordinary Jesus. The one that they had followed, laughed with, prayed with, cried with, and left everything for. The peasant from Galilee. The one who promised to make them fishers of men. The one they have confessed as “Messiah” forbids them from saying anything until the sign of Jonah has come to pass—that the Son of Man must be buried in the Earth, swallowed up by death, and be raised again on the third day.

The Transfiguration is a puzzle, no doubt. Nevertheless, it’s a fantastic moment that begins a two-way movement—an ascent to Jerusalem that will mean a descent to death.

We can’t fully exhaust the mystery of the transfiguration, but the framework the church has handed us can help us marvel at that mystery. This season of astonishment—Epiphany—begins with the mystery of the incarnate one standing in line with sinners at his baptism. The same voice announced from heaven, “this is my son, whom I love, with whom I am well pleased,” roars once more on the Last Sunday of Epiphany—Transfiguration Sunday—and transports us all to the mountaintop. The cloud of the divine presence that booms like thunder bookends the season, and now we’re heading toward something new. The thing is, though, we’re all in on the secret now. It’s not the transfiguration that is Christ’s vindication as messiah. It is his crucifixion and resurrection. The father vindicates the son by the breath of the Spirit breathing into the mutilated, dead body of Jesus.

It is good for us as disciples of Jesus to recall the Transfiguration the Sunday before Ash Wednesday each year. We’re so tempted to think of the glory of the Transfiguration as the end. But it’s just the beginning. The future is an exaltation of a still slain lamb after the crucifixion. The glory of Christ is revealed in his death.

This secret is out now. Nevertheless, so much of this event will remain a mystery. Let us follow him down the mountain, through the Lenten journey, to the cross and resurrection. May the sign we look for not be the glory but for where a peasant from Galilee hangs among thieves.

[1] Luke also includes Jesus saying the only sign to be received is the sign of Jonah. Interestingly, this dialogue happens with a crowd after the transfiguration whereas Matthew places it just before Peter’s confession at Caesarea Philippi.

[2] Luke is the only one to refer to the disciples as “sleepy” (Lk. 9:31).