“The Transfiguration”

Matthew 17:1-9

Pastor Deb Troester, STHPC, February 15, 2026

Most of your know that Joe and I served as mission co-workers in several different African countries, including Cameroon. During that time, our daughter Christa attended the Rain Forest International School, a boarding school in Yaoundé, the capital of Cameroon. Every year the high school students made an end-of-the-year trip to climb Mount Cameroon, located just outside of Buea in Southwest Province. At over 13,000 feet, it is the highest mountain in Cameroon, but here is a trail all the way to the top, so doesn’t require special climbing skills to get to the summit. It just requires a lot of perseverance. Being in good shape helps, too. In fact there is an annual footrace to the top and back each year. It’s being held this coming Saturday, if anyone is interested in participating!

At Christa’s school, before you are allowed to join the climbing group, you had to meet certain qualifications, such as running 20 kilometers a week for several months Even at that, the school still hired porters to carry gear such as sleeping bags, food, and extra water.

You need to bring lots of layers of clothing because the trek begins in a hot, humid rainforest, but ascends to the chilly, windy heights above the tree line. Christa described the climb as “hard, steep, and long,” but when she got to the top, “It felt like a huge accomplishment – you did something really impressive that no one can take away from you.” When I asked her what she could see from the top, she said that they were up above the clouds, “surrounded by white sky,” and that the trail down “disappears into the fog.” She described the walk down as “dreamlike.” When they finished the climb her senior year, they went to relax on the beach at Limbé and looked back at the mountain. Only from that distance could they see the mountain as a whole.

In today’s scripture, Jesus, Peter, James, and John climb another mountain. The traditional site of the Transfiguration is Mount Tabor, not even 2000 feet above sea level. Scholars say it’s more likely that the site was Mount Hermon, which at over 9000 feet might have given the disciples a similar experience to climbing Mount Cameroon. We don’t know if they had to take layers, or extra food and water.

They certainly didn’t have porters or have to train for months, although walking the highways and byways of Galilee would have built up a lot of leg muscle! But when they got to the top, the experience was similar. They were enveloped in a cloud, seemingly suspended between heaven and earth, in a dreamlike state.

We might even wonder if the disciples were dreaming, because on the mountaintop they experienced a kind of vision. They saw Jesus transformed into a heavenly being of light. The original Greek word for transfiguration, μετεμορφώθη, may even sound familiar to you: metamorphosis, like a caterpillar changing into a butterfly. Which is the creature’s true form? It is both fully caterpillar, just as Jesus was fully human, and fully butterfly – as Jesus was fully divine, but Jesus was both at the same time. On the mountain, the disciples had a glimpse of Jesus’ heavenly form: “His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light.” At least that was the best they could do to describe what they saw.

On the mountain, the disciples saw Jesus as he really is: the beloved Son of God. For a few brief moments the veil was torn away and they saw into heaven itself, beholding Christ in all of his splendor and glory. The transfiguration was a moment of revelation – an epiphany. Once we see Jesus for who he really is, we can never see anyone or anything in quite the same way again.

Indeed, all creation has a spiritual reality. All of existence has a transfigured nature, if we only have eyes to perceive it. This church building is not just brick, glass, cement, and wood – it is a place where we encounter God. The church is not just a collection of people come together to do good, or to have a worship experience – we are the body of Christ, a royal priesthood, stones built together to form a holy temple, resting on the chief cornerstone of Christ. You and I are not just human beings: we are children of the God of the Universe, who gives our lives meaning and purpose. The earth is not just a storehouse of raw materials waiting to be exploited.

It is a gift from a loving God, specially prepared to sustain and nurture life itself; it is sacred, and we are entrusted with its care.

Each human being is an eternal soul, uniquely created by God. Thomas Merton wrote, “There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun.” What would we see if we could look at people through God’s eyes? That person who seems so unlike us – with different culture, beliefs and values, God loves that person, too. That person begging on the street is someone’s son or daughter. Perhaps their mother held them tenderly in her arms as a baby, with hopes for a better future for her child. God sees us all this way, as God’s beloved children. Even if no living person cares what happens to an individual, God cares. And so must we, if we claim to be followers of Christ. Let us pray that God will help us see the world through the eyes of heaven, to see the inner, spiritual reality, as the disciples saw Christ that day.

Yet, our understanding is clouded – God remains a mystery to us. Just as the bright cloud overshadowed the disciples, there is much we simply do not understand about the eternal. And that’s normal.

After all, we are human beings, not God. Sometimes all we can do is stand still and worship, be present to the divine and drink it in. But when we encounter God, we often react like Peter – especially we Presbyterians – we like to do things; we like to act. Contemplation is not our style. Peter wanted to hold onto this moment forever. And he wanted to be useful: “Let’s set up three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” he announces. He has missed the whole point of the epiphany. By their nature, revelations are a momentary flash of insight into a reality we had previously not perceived. At some moments in the life of the church, we have decided to set up a tent, build a shelter or a building, to try to hang onto that feeling we had once upon a time. But that time has passed. New approaches are called for. Can we tear down the old structures to make way for the new? Food for thought.

The main point of the encounter on the mountain was not to set up tents and stay there forever. The main point was to see Jesus glorified, as the Son of God, sent to the earth to help us understand God’s true nature and to enable us to be reconciled with God and with each other.

The voice from the cloud proclaims, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”

When we go with Jesus to the mountain of transfiguration, our perspective changes. We are no longer limited to the view of the sheltered valley where we live our own narrow lives. At this border zone between earth and heaven, between the material and the spiritual, we may see things that others do not see – things we did not see before our encounter with the Son of God. On the mountain of Transfiguration God spoke: “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.” What is Jesus telling you to do today? Listen to him. Ask him to show you. If you are not sure, ask someone who knows you well.

Before I became a pastor, I was thinking of studying to be an ESL teacher (English as a Second Language). I took an introductory course. When it was over, a good friend and colleague told me, “You’re not as excited about that course as you thought you would be, are you?” That simple remark got me to thinkings, “No,…maybe there is something else I should be looking into.”

That started me on a quest that eventually ended in my becoming a pastor. Our friends and family often know us better than we do ourselves, and God can speak through them, too, or through a book, the Bible, music, almost anything – if you are listening. If you find that God is calling you to do something, but you are hesitant, hear what Jesus said to his disciples, “Get up! Do not be afraid.” 

When the disciples looked up, suddenly the vision had vanished, and “they saw no one except Jesus.” We need to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. There is a difference between listening to wise advice, and always worrying about what others will say. If we base our lives on what others think, we will be swept to and fro, like seaweed tossed in the ocean waves. Instead we need to be like kelp, anchored to the rocks on the seabed, holding fast to Christ in the wind and waves of life.

Finally, Peter, James, and John follow Jesus down the mountain. We cannot stay on the mountaintop forever, no matter how exhilarating the experience. Our journey to the mountain with Jesus may have given us new insight and strengthened our faith, but descend we must.

The disciples go back down to the valley, to earthly reality, to minister in Jesus’ name: to heal the sick, give sight to the blind, cast out demons, feed the hungry. We, too, are sometimes granted glimpses of heavenly glory, of Christ’s majesty and power, in order to strengthen our faith and prepare us for ministry wherever we are needed. Today, let us look to Jesus. He is God’s beloved Son. Listen to him.

I will close with a prayer based on the Transfiguration, written by Bible scholar William Loader. Let us pray:

O God,
We open our eyes and we see Jesus,
the months of ministry transfigured to a beam of light,
the light of the world,
your light.
May your light shine upon us.

We open our eyes and we see Moses and Elijah,
your word restoring us, showing us the way,
telling a story,
your story, his story, our story.
May your word speak to us.

We open our eyes and we see mist,
the cloud of your presence
which assures us of all we do not know
and that we do not need to fear.
Teach us to trust.

We open our eyes and we see Peter’s constructions,
his best plans, our best plans,
our missing the point,
our missing the way.
Forgive our foolishness and sin

We open our eyes and we see Jesus,
not casting us off,
but leading us down, leading us out -
to ministry, to people.
Your love endures forever.

We open our ears and we hear your voice,
‘This is my beloved Son, listen to him!’
And we give you thanks.

Amen

— prayer by William Loader (2/2001), and posted on Bill Loader’s Home Page. 

https://re-worship.blogspot.com/2012/01/prayer-for-transfiguration-sunday_29.html

Sermon ©Deborah Troester, 2026