Homily for Sunday, 6 August 2017– Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

Readings of the day: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Psalm 97:1-2, 5-6, 9; 2 Peter 1:16-19; Matthew 17:1-9

This homily was given at St. Alphonsus and St. Clare Churches, Edmonton, AB, Canada.

Have any of us ever had a moment in which our faith was so strong that nothing could disturb it? How many have been almost to this point of unshakable faith, when our faith is still deep and strong, but with a few questions? I am not sure I have ever encountered or read anybody whose faith was absolutely unshakable. After all, the greatest of saints are saints not because their faith was perfect, but because they are the boldest in admitting their questions; their struggles; their distractions; their disturbances of faith.

The saints, including the many (I would say the vast majority of saints) who remain unnamed and uncanonised officially by our Church, like many of us, were people whose faith, this side of heaven, was usually not perfectly unshakable, but was almost there. Jesus’ Transfiguration, to which he invites only “Peter, James, and his brother John” up the mountain with him to witness, is an event not for people whose faith is already perfectly unshakable, but for those whose faith is “almost there.”

In Matthew’s Gospel, faith is the lens through which we are invited to grasp Jesus’ Transfiguration. Not long before the Transfiguration in this same Gospel, the Pharisees and Sadducees ask Jesus for a sign of his authority, despite having observed already the miracles he was performing. Jesus, we know, does not grant the Pharisees and Sadducees the sign they seek. Besides the signs of Jesus’ presence and the miracles he had already worked, Jesus could give them no sign that would move the hearts of the religious leaders of the day to faith, let alone past the outright malice and jealousy they had toward Jesus.

After the episode with the Pharisees and Sadducees, we hear in Matthew Peter’s confession of faith, his identification of Jesus as the Son of God. But even then Peter’s faith is not perfect; when Jesus speaks of his passion and death, Peter essentially curses God. (Peter’s reaction to Jesus’ prediction of his suffering and death is somewhat more vulgar than, “God forbid it, Lord,” which is why Jesus responds to him with such force: “Get behind me, Satan”!) And so Peter’s faith, while stronger than that of the Pharisees and Sadducees, is far from perfect at the point of the Transfiguration. After the Transfiguration, James and John at one point vie with one another for prestige, for places at Jesus’ right and left in the Kingdom of Heaven, angering the other Apostles. And later yet the Apostles would flee the scandal of the cross.

The faith of the Apostles, especially that of Peter, James, and John who witness the Transfiguration, is far from unshakable. But Jesus does not choose these three from among the Twelve because their faith is perfect. He does not choose Peter, James, and John to climb the mountain with him because they are sinless, or because they are particularly more trustworthy than the other Apostles. In fact, Jesus, Peter, James, John and we know otherwise, if we place the Transfiguration within the broader context of Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus knows Peter’s, James’, and John’s vulnerability; the weaknesses of their faith; their sin, and chooses them to witness his Transfiguration anyway. Why is this?

My speculation, although this is not clear in Matthew’s Gospel, is that Jesus chooses Peter, James, and John to witness his Transfiguration because they are the most “teachable” of all Jesus’ Apostles. They are Jesus’ best students, or disciples. Peter, James and John acknowledge best their weaknesses, struggles, distractions, and disturbances of faith. They acknowledge best their need to be in the presence of Jesus to learn; to strengthen their faith; to deal with the ambiguity and scandal of the cross; to see in all this, including in the scandal of the cross, God’s glory shining forth in Jesus Christ.

Peter, James, and John acknowledge best of anybody that their faith is far from unshakable; far from certain, but that their faith is almost there. Without this acknowledgement of the “almost but not yet” aspect of their faith; this acknowledgement of their need to be in the presence of Jesus, the Transfiguration means nothing, for Peter, James, and John, or for us.

Might we imagine the Transfiguration in these terms: Are not Peter, James, and John in many ways like us? Jesus, God, has chosen us to experience his presence here. In the Word of God and the breaking of bread Jesus shows himself to us, still a fairly select group of people in our world who regularly take up Jesus’ invitation to this Eucharistic celebration. But we do not gather here to hear the Word of God and to break bread; we are not invited here by our Lord because our faith is perfect, unshakable. We do not celebrate here in Jesus’ presence because we are sinless, or because we have every aspect of our faith; every teaching our Church proposes as revealed by God all worked out. No, we gather here precisely because we do not have all this worked out; because we are sinners; because we are vulnerable to our struggles, distractions, and disturbances of faith. We gather here perhaps (and, in a way, I hope) because to worship a God who would suffer and die shamefully on a cross for us as Jesus did still, in a way, troubles us if we think deeply enough about it.

The vision of the cross at the Transfiguration would have scandalized Peter, James, and John outright, if their own sin and their own struggles, distractions, and disturbances of faith did not already trouble them at that moment. Even as they are “coming down the mountain” after the Transfiguration, they were still working out all these tensions: Why are we not to stay on this mountain? Why does this moment when God’s glory flashes before us have to end? What is the significance of Jesus being left “alone” after his Transfiguration (Peter, James, and John would not yet have connected Jesus’ aloneness after the Transfiguration to his being left alone by his closest friends to die on a cross)? Why were we chosen from among the Twelve to witness Jesus’ Transfiguration in the first place? Why are we not to “tell anyone about this vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead”?

And yet, with all these questions and tensions; struggles, distractions, and disturbances, on the mountain of the Transfiguration Peter correctly identifies the central importance of this Transfiguration event when it is most critical that he do so. Peter says, “Lord, it is good that we are here.” Peter speaks for himself, James, and John. Peter speaks for every disciple of Jesus for all time. Peter speaks for us: “Lord, it is good that we are here.”

“Lord, it is good that we are here,” our faith “almost there” but not yet perfected. “It is good that we are here” to acknowledge and to grapple with our vulnerability; our struggles; our distractions; our disturbances of faith. “It is good that we are here”; that the Lord has invited us here, not in spite of our sins and weaknesses of faith, but because of them. And “it is good” that we accept our Lord’s invitation to witness and to celebrate his Transfiguration; to celebrate our Eucharist.

In accepting our Lord’s invitation to this celebration, we witness to how good it is “that we are here” to participate in this intermingling of God’s glory with the mystery of Christ’s suffering, death on a cross, and resurrection for us. Here the scandal of the cross becomes our way to salvation. Here we admit boldly, as the saints have through the centuries, that we are God’s work in progress. We are, like Peter, James, and John, invited up the mountain to witness Jesus’ Transfiguration, not on our own merits but as God’s free gift. Insofar as we are able to admit this then, reflecting Christ we, too, are transfigured, our faith strengthened. And we are able to exclaim as Peter once did on behalf of all of us: “Lord, it is good that we are here”!