Lectionary Readings: Year A – Last Sunday after the Epiphany
If you like books, movies, or stories of any kind, you probably run across a lot of symbolism that you don’t even think about consciously. Take, for instance, this scenario in a movie: you hear arguing, and the camera pans in on a house from above, pans by the house, and then goes up into a tree. At that moment, you hear a gunshot. And then, the camera shows an owl. The owl hoots, and it all fades to black. We all know that this means there’s a secret; there’s a mystery; and it will be what the movie is about.
Or, take this scenario: a man walks up to a house, apparently a vacuum salesman. He knocks on the door, and a woman answers him, and they begin talking. As they are talking, the camera pans down, and we see a snake in the grass. And we all say to ourselves, “Ooh, something evil is about to happen.”
Or, the most common one: a raven appears. Maybe a lot of them. Then a raven caw-caws. We all know what that one means: someone is going to die.
These are symbols you don’t even need to think about. They just make sense to you. But what about symbols from other cultures? Take, for instance, the raven. In Indigenous cultures, the raven is often seen as a creator, and credited with bringing light into the world. The raven also, rather than being a bad omen, or a harbinger of death, is actually a good thing. Seeing a raven represents a profound change – a transformation.
In today’s Gospel, Matthew used symbolism that was very common to his readers and listeners. It may not immediately stand out to us, but the use of these symbols in his Gospel were things people wouldn’t have even had to think about. They would have just known what it meant.
When Jesus and the disciples went up the mountain, Jesus was transfigured before the very eyes of the disciples. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. And then, suddenly, there’s three men on the mountain: Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, and all of them engulfed in light. Moses, the one person who had, himself, climbed a mountain, and came back down with the covenant laws that God had given him, his face shining with a reflection of God’s glory. And Elijah, one of the prophets. In fact, not just one of the prophets, but the prophet. The one who did not die, but was taken up into heaven on a chariot of fire. Elijah was considered the one person who would be there to herald the arrival of the Messiah. The two of them – Moses and Elijah – together symbolized the Law and the Prophets. To the listeners of Matthew’s Gospel, the Law and the Prophets represented the totality of all that God had revealed to them. And so, for these two men, Moses and Elijah, to be seen with Jesus was making a statement of some importance for Matthew’s audience.
Matthew’s Gospel focuses heavily on making sure that people understand that Jesus is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. In fact, it begins, as we saw during the Christmas season, with the genealogy of Jesus; it shows that Jesus is in the line of King David, because the prophets had said that the Messiah would be descended from David. When Jesus was tempted in the desert, he spent forty days in the wilderness, paralleling the forty years that the Israelites were led by Moses through the desert. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus declares himself greater than the Temple;1 he declares himself more important than Jonah; and he declares himself more important than king Solomon.2 In this way, we find that Jesus is presented to us as a priest, a prophet, and a king. To be all three of these things, Jesus fulfills the prophecies of all that the scripture had spoken about the Messiah.
And so, back to today’s passage: Jesus is standing here with Moses and Elijah. A cloud comes down from heaven, and this cloud overshadows them and a voice from the cloud says, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” And the disciples got scared and fell to the ground. Three terrified men on a mountain. When they finally looked up, Moses and Elijah were gone. Only Jesus remained.
Now, I don’t know about you, but this plays out in my head very much like a movie. The camera pans in on Jesus and the disciples walking up the mountain, and then Jesus goes on a bit ahead of them, and suddenly he starts to shine, and two men, also shining, stand with Jesus. The camera pans to the faces of the disciples, and suddenly, the light gets brighter, and their faces become more and more confused. Then there’s that loud voice that says that everyone should listen to Jesus. And we see the disciples fall to the ground, freaking out. Then the camera pans around behind them, as the light starts to fade, and there is Jesus. Just Jesus. No Moses. No Elijah. Just Jesus.
As far as symbolism goes, there’s no better way than this to make the point that Jesus has become the culmination, the fulfillment of the scriptures that prophesied the Messiah. Jesus is the only one left. No Moses. No Elijah. Just Jesus.
And, of course, the command from the voice of God to “Listen to him!”
The identity of Jesus has been solidified. The ultimate fulfillment of all that the scriptures had prophesied now rests in the person of Jesus. He is God’s Son. He is the Messiah. He is the incarnation of the scriptures. And all it took was a light show of epic proportions.
Let’s look at the timeline of events that led up to this. Before this transfiguration, Jesus had cured many people, he had fed five thousand people, and then, later, fed four thousand people. He had walked on water. And, Jesus had asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples had said that others were saying that he was Elijah, or one of the other prophets. But Jesus asked them very specifically, “Who do you say that I am?” And Peter said, “You’re the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”
Peter saw it, and he declared it. And Jesus turns to Peter and says, “Blessed are you, Peter, because God revealed this to you.”
And then, after this declaration, a little later in the Gospel, Jesus tells his disciples that he has to go to Jerusalem, and that he will suffer, and that he will be killed.
And that same Peter, who declared that Jesus was the Messiah, turns to Jesus and says, “No! That can’t be! This cannot happen to you!” And Jesus turns to Peter, and says, “Get behind me Satan!” The same Peter whom Jesus blessed is now rebuked. Why? Because Peter didn’t want to lose Jesus. He was afraid to lose someone close to him. But Jesus knew what needed to happen, so he corrected Peter. To help Peter understand the bigger picture of what God was doing in the world.
Imagine the emotional highs and lows these disciples have been on up until this point. They’ve seen Jesus performing incredible miracles. They’ve seen Jesus do the impossible, from feeding thousands of people with barely a bit of food, to walking on water. Peter has been blessed for seeing something others didn’t see at first, and rebuked for being scared for his friend’s life, and thereby trying to interfere in God’s plan. The others have been there and experienced these same things. Their emotions are volatile. And then this. Jesus begins to shine right in front of them and an incredible voice from heaven bellows out of a cloud.
I’m pretty sure that if I was that emotionally confused and shaken by what I had seen in the last few weeks and months, I would have fallen to the ground terrified out of my wits, just like these disciples.
Now, we all know that Jesus is capable of miracles. We all know that God can step in and solve problems in more mysterious ways than we could ever dream of. We know that God is all powerful, and all knowing. We know all this.
But sometimes, we see ravens everywhere. Or we see just darkness, and an owl hooting in the dark, because we don’t understand why something is happening. We know that God is great and powerful. We know that God loves us, but we are still afraid. We know that God is there, and God can provide, but what we see is just a cloud that overshadows everything, and hear loud voices that terrify us.
Three men on a mountain. Laying on the ground, completely terrified. Emotionally spent. Confused and uncertain where to go or what to do. Their friend, their teacher, has just been transfigured, transformed in front of them in a blazing white light. And a loud voice had declared that this friend of theirs was the Son of the Living God.
And then the most amazing thing happens. Jesus touches them. He touches them and says, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
Some of you know that there are times when the simple touch of another person can be the most healing thing you can experience. A pat on the back. A touch on the shoulder. Holding your hand. Or even just a simple hug.
For the disciples, this was no longer just their friend. This was no longer just another human. This was the creator of the universe, reaching down and touching them, and offering comfort in their fear.
In this transfiguration, the identity of Jesus is solidified. Jesus is the Son of God. He is the Messiah. He is the fulfillment of the scriptures. And all that follow him should listen to him.
This transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain always comes on the Last Sunday of the Epiphany, the last Sunday before Lent. Whether it be in Matthew’s Gospel, or in Mark’s or Luke’s, we always deal with the transfiguration of Christ on this last Sunday of the Epiphany. Because it is in the transfiguration that we are confronted with the same question that Peter, James and John were before this hike up the mountain. The question that Jesus had asked them: “Who do you say that I am?”
Lent is that time that we enter into reflection on what Christ has accomplished for us. It allows us to reflect on our sin. It allows us to reflect on Christ’s suffering. It allows us to consider the big picture of Christ’s work in this world, and how we are invited to join into that work.
In his transfiguration, Jesus’ identity was solidified in the image of three men on a mountain. And it was that transfiguration that simultaneously brought fear – and comfort.
When we are able to answer the question that Jesus poses to us: “Who do you say that I am?” Then we will find that comfort that those three terrified men on a mountain came to feel, when the one who was their friend, revealed as the creator of the world, reached down and touched them and said, “Get up and do not be afraid.”
[This sermon was delivered at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in Wickenburg, AZ on February 15, 2026.]