Transfiguration in February

​There are in life those people who want to make you notice them because they are important. When a certain American President was in his first term I vowed I wouldn’t keep mentioning him. It’s even harder not to mention him in his second term which still has three long years to go. He wants to build an arc de Trump which will tower over every other building in Washington DC and he’ll be remembered as the greatest President the country has ever had. It happens in churches too…

 

We were in Durham Cathedral a week yesterday to hear the choir sing the Messiah. In the cathedral there is the cathedra, the seat of the Bishop. 16 large steps go up to it and it’s almost three metres above the ground. It was designed by Bishop Thomas Hatfield, who was Bishop of Durham from 1345 to 1381. There’s a story that the Bishop wanted it to be the highest throne in Christendom, so he sent two monks toRome to measure the Popes throne there so he could build it higher! The thing was to meant to inspire awe in people. The Bishop of Durham looking down from on high on his clergy and his people, was to be seen as someone worthy of glory and honour. 

 

Today Jesus most positively invites us to notice him and see his glory. 

 

It’s quite a story Luke tells. In it there are mountains, clouds, mysterious voices from clouds, dazzling white clothes... 

How easy it can be though, when one is quite familiar with a story, for it to lose some of its wonder.

 

We used to sing of it in Sunday School:

 

Looking upward every day,
Sunshine on our faces;
Pressing onward every day
Toward the heavenly places;

And…with actions! 

 

Climb, climb up sunshine mountain, (Pretend to climb in air.)

Heavenly breezes blow. (Wave hands in front of body.)

Climb, climb up sunshine mountain, (Pretend to climb.)

Faces all aglow. (Stick out palms under chin.)

Turn, turn from sin and doubting, (Turn head.)

Look to God on high. (Point up and look.)

Climb, climb up sunshine mountain, (Pretend to climb.)

You and I.

For just one moment, the disciples gain a glimpse of the glory of the Kingdom of Heaven; no wonder they ‘kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen’. Jesus’ face changes, and his whole being seems to radiate a blinding light. The Orthodox church calls this ‘uncreated light’ that is, not a worldly phenomenon at all, but as a result of a direct encounter with God, which alters and transfigures the whole of creation.I like the OED’s clear definition of transfiguration; as a ‘complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state’.

 

So, what relevance might this amazing transfiguration story have for us in 2026?

 

I wonder if any of us can remember having had a ‘transfiguration moment’?

Perhaps we were tired or fed up, and something just happened that stopped us in our tracks andtransformed our way of thinking and feeling.

 

These transfiguration moments, which lift us out of ourselves and give us a glimpse of something ‘other’ - even an aspect of God - are precious – and so easily passed by unnoticed. I firmly believe that God wants to change and transform us into the people he created us to be... and perhaps by prayerfully reflecting on these glimpses, we are taking small steps in thatdirection. Rowan Williams writes in a reflection on the icon of the transfiguration, that ‘looking at Jesus seriously changes things; if we do not want to be changed, it is better not to look too hard or too long’. Powerful words.

On Good Friday in 1520, prominent Italian painter and architect Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino (better known as simply “Raphael”) died at the age of 37. He left behind a large body of work including paintings, altarpieces, sculptures, sketches… and one unfinished oil painting on wood, titled theTransfiguration.

Raphael, busy with other commissions, had worked on the transfiguration for four years—but he died prematurely before it could be completed. The work was finished by Raphael’s student Giulio Romano after the artist’s funeral. There is a noticeable difference in the fine details of the top and bottom, probably because the hand of the Master had been stilled.

Even in its unfinished state, Raphael considered the transfiguration to be his greatest masterpiece. He was so proud of it, in fact, that it was prominently displayed behind his deathbed.

Two scenes from the Gospel of Matthew aredepicted in Raphael’sTransfiguration:

At the top, Christ has climbed Mount Tabor with the Apostles, and there he is transfigured—appearing in his glorified body, flanked by Moses (representing the Law) and Elijah (representing the Prophets).
But in the lower part of the painting,the Apostles are struggling to heal a sick child. Only when the transfigured Christ appears in their midst is the child healed.

The original painting is now housed in the Vatican Museum.

 

We need those looking up moments in order to survive life in all its complexity. 

 

They offer us opportunities for transformation and fresh insight. 

And now I am preaching probably more to myself than to anyone else – but the vital bit is what happens after. Do we just return home to our lives, maybe thinking ‘that was a nice day’ and not giving it another thought in all our busy-ness, or do we make a conscious decision to maintain and nurture any tiny insight or change that might have come about in us? One happened to me in Durham Cathedral. I know the exact date – Friday 19 January 2007. I was having a bad time. I was fed up. Everything in church was my fault. The letters weren’t nice. I sat there and I know exactly where I sat to this day and I told God I’d had enough. Of church that is! And God in the vastness and history of that place sorted my head and told me however bad it seems he’s bigger and to look for his glory when I’m getting tired of what’s around me. 

 

We need to create looking up moments in church don’t we? 

My learning to be a Superintendent course at Cliff College despite landing on my bottom, was very good. The highlight was being taken out of the ordinary superintendent groups because the Bridge Circuit is different as I don’t do the governance bit, and to be put with the other different Superintendent Darren Middleton who is Superintendent of the Coracle Circuit in the South West Peninsula District (that’s Devon and Cornwall) - it’s a circuit of new expressions of church. Darren is a minister and also a hairdresser and he’s opened a salon in Plymouth. 

He says “Hairdressing is the perfect tool to engage the wider community. The salon is a place where people come from all backgrounds and places to have some personal time that is solely for themselves. A space is given to each client to be themselves and talk, or not! Part of the service that a hairdresser gives is to listen. 

The salon experience is a holistic one - pampering for the hair, nurturing for the soul.” I didn’t realise just how compatible sermons and scissors are but in fact, in reality, they are synonymous. Especially if one considers a sermon something that is lived in the community and not just spoken from a pulpit.

My hope is to give this experience to people who need it but can’t afford it; those who cannot go to a salon for whatever reason - the homeless and the outsider, the refugee, those suffering with mental illness and those who just need to be loved and given space to be…” 

He was an absolute joy to chat to. I said to him “ you love it don’t you?”  He’s providing up moments for people day after day after day. Bit different to what I get “got any plans for the weekend? “

Of course, most of these transfigurational glimpses occur in the mundane, ordinary, everyday situations, hence being so easy to miss. But it would be exhausting and unsustainable to always live on the mountaintop, constantly being dazzled by revelations and dramatic experiences.

 

It is not God’s desire that we live on the mountaintops. We only ascend to the heights to catch a broader vision of the earthly surroundings below. But we don’t live there. We don’t tarry there. The streams begin in the uplands, but these streams quickly descend to gladden the valleys below.

But we can surely be sustained and equipped by the fruits of our glimpses and transfigurational moments, if we are willing. We are to take our transfiguration moments—our God moments—with us, to remind us why we are on this journey, especially when things are difficult. Like Peter, James, and John, we may not always understand what we have witnessed, but we know that we are loved and called by the God who shares them with us. 

Peter later wrote this in his second letter: “For we did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honour and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, 

“This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain. So we have the prophetic message more fully confirmed. You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, because no prophecy ever came by human will, but men and women moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.”

As we prepare to enter Lent, the story of Jesus requires us to take the brilliance of the Transfiguration into our own journeys. 

May we be given the courage to be transformed, so that we can bear the light and mystery of God to others, setting the whole world aglow as 2 Peter declares: “a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises” in our hearts. Let us look up and see his glory is still around and let us look down and around to share it where we are.