St. Mark's Episcopal Church

124 North Sylvia Street - Montesano, WA, 98563

Transfiguration, February 15

Sermon Epiphany last 2026

Peter, James, and John were hanging out with Jesus when he asked them to hike up a nearby mountain.  He was always wanting to get away for a quiet break from the crowds and have some time for prayer.  He said: “Follow me” and they said: “OK.”  They huffed and puffed their way up the mountain and when they arrived, tired and sweaty, they realized that something huge had happened to their friend.  Jesus had changed!  He stood before them transfigured.  His face shone like the sun and his clothes became dazzling white. They stood before him with their mouths open.

Here is how Madeleine L’Engle describes the scene:
“Suddenly they saw him the way he was, the way he really was all the time, although they had never seen it before, the glory which blinds the everyday eye and so becomes invisible.  This is how he was, radiant, brilliant, carrying joy like a flaming sun in his hands.  This is the way he was -is - from the beginning, and we cannot bear it.  So, he manned himself, came manifest to us; and there on the mountain, they saw him, really saw him, saw his light.”

Jesus is joined by two biblical superstars: the great prophets Elijah and Moses.  Peter is absolutely overwhelmed by the whole scene and wants to build some huts so that they can all be comfortable and stay a while.  Well, God has something to say.  This scene isn’t enough for him.  He brings a cloud down amidst our friends and booms out this commandment: “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” (Incidentally, there is an exclamation point after ‘listen to him!’ It’s really rare to see exclamation point in the bible. I imagine that God was just about yelling this command.)

Then everything stops.  Time freezes.  Peter, James, and John forget to breathe.  They fall on the ground.  They don’t know what to think or do. 

And when they look up, it’s over.  Elijah and Moses are gone.  The cloud is gone.  The booming voice of God is silent. They look at each other in amazement.  “Did you see that?”  “Did you hear that?”  When they look at Jesus, they see their friend again, a normal human being in dusty clothes.

Calmly, sweetly, he touches their shoulders and tells them to get up and do not be afraid.  He gestures for them to follow him back down the path.  It is time to go back.  He turns to his friends and reminds them to keep quiet, to tell no one what they have seen until the Son of Man has risen from the dead.

What really happened on that mountaintop? Now listen because this is important: Jesus became a bridge between heaven and earth, between God and man.  In that moment, the real truth of Jesus became obvious to his followers: he was both God and man.  His divine nature had become visible.

I think the most important part of the story though, is the anticlimactic ending: the trudge back down the mountain.  They could have chosen to stay on that glorious mountaintop. They could have chosen to go along with Peter and build those huts.  But it seems that rather quickly, Jesus led them back to life, back to the work they were given to do, back to US.  They come down from the mountaintop to bring the divine nature of Christ to us, to transform our nature into a brightly lit Godly nature.

On that day, Peter, James and John had an encounter with God. I’d like to tell you all about an encounter I had with God.  Our family was on a long road trip one summer and we had made our way to Yellowstone.  We had read that there was phenomenal wildlife viewing in the Lamar Valley, so we got up very early, grabbed some coffee and sleepily drove along, not paying much attention to anything. As Kevin rounded a curve we came upon a bison, right there in the middle of the road, which honestly, was about the size of our minivan.  Kevin slammed on the brakes, we all yelled, then we sat, staring at this huge animal exhaling steam as it slowly walked off the road.  Phew - we were all beside ourselves!  We were grateful to have avoided a collision which might have killed all of us.

Now we were awake!  We drove on, filled with the wonder of this wild place.  There was a good pull out area as we came within view of the valley, so we stopped, got out of the van and just sat in solitude looking at this stunning place in the stillness of the morning.  Suddenly the sun broke through the thin clouds, and the rays of the sun were clearly defined, shedding light on the whole valley. In my family, whenever we see that, we say: “there’s God!”  It hardly looked real, it was so beautiful. Unconsciously, I began to sing, ‘Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise him all creatures here below…”  We felt that we were encountering God. I will never forget that morning.

Now, if we’d been zooming down a freeway, listening to the radio, squinting at our various devices, we could have come upon the exact same scene, and maybe noticed that it was pretty but never felt God’s presence. Instead, we were awakened by that massive bison, we stopped the car and got out, we sat in solitude and silence.  THEN, we noticed God. 

 Encounters with God.  That quiet moment, when I sensed God, I began inadvertently, to pray, to praise God.  Jesus often escaped the crowds to get some quiet time. He is praying when he encounters not just God but Moses and Elijah on the mountaintop.   We make room for God when we are still, when we are quiet, when we pray.         

Mother Teresa once said, “We need to find God and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness.  God is the friend of silence.”  We can all encounter God in unexpected places.  We just have to keep our eyes, ears and hearts open.  As God commanded on the mountaintop, we need to listen to his son, Jesus.  When we come to church, our primary purpose ought to be to listen to God.

On Wednesday, we will start the season of Lent when we prepare to join Jesus as he starts on his journey toward Jerusalem, the journey to his death on the cross and resurrection. The season of Lent is a good time to go to our own mountaintops and pray.  If we get quiet, maybe we too can be surrounded by a cloud and hear the voice of God.  God may be too big for our feeble minds, but we know that God is here, God is near.  Give God some time to talk to you.          

 I love Lent because I always try to slow down and listen for God. This year I’m going to try to distance myself from my phone. I’ll take my social media off the phone. I do this every year, and I actually look forward to Lent because of the break from that constant stimulation.  I encourage each of you to seek a holy Lenten practice.

In today’s gospel we see the very core of the miracle of Christ.  God became human.  God became like US so that we might become like God.  In this story we see the light of God in Christ so that we can also see the light of God in us.  Jesus and his followers came back down from that mountain so that they could help us to find this truth.

You see, we have God in us.  We have the light of Christ in us.  Every single one of us has this God within.  Our job, as Christians is to stoke this fire within, feed this light so that it shines brightly onto others.  ‘This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine...’

When we become aware of the light of Christ within us, it changes us.  Changes how we live and how we treat others.  When we look for the light of Christ in others, when we strive to see, truly see the divine in everyone around us, it changes us at the deepest level. This is our bigger task, our almost impossible task: to find the light of Christ in everyone.

Imagine how that would be.  Now this is hard: Imagine looking at everyone, even those people you can’t stand, as if they were full of Christ’s light. If you can see this, you can start to love and forgive them.            

We enter the dark season of Lent soon with this brilliant story of light to send us on our way.  Perhaps that would be a good Lenten practice: find the light of Christ within yourself and be filled with that love.  Then look for the light of Christ within others and fill them with God’s love.

Amen.