TRANSFIGURATION
“After six days Jesus took with Him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There He was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus. Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for You, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ While he was still speaking, a bright cloud enveloped them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is My Son, whom I love; with Him I am well pleased. Listen to Him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell face down to the ground, terrified. But Jesus came and touched them. He said, “Get up. Don’t be afraid.” When they looked up they saw no one except Jesus. (Gospel of Matthew 17:1-8)
This spectacular story is known as the “Transfiguration of Christ”. It appears in all three of the “synoptic gospels” (Matthew, Mark, and Luke).* The church calendar has set aside August 6 as the “Feast of the Transfiguration”, though most Christians have never heard of it, and those who have may prefer to ignore it. Yet I suggest that the story of the “Transfiguration of Christ” is no less important than the stories of Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection. The story of transfiguration — like the other narratives — are not just stories about Jesus, they are stories about us. The “Transfiguration of Christ” points to our transfiguration — the transfiguration of human beings, one by one, and of human society.
Early followers of Jesus were called “people of The Way”, meaning the way of Jesus Christ. Long before the time of Jesus, Buddhists used the same language — “The Way” — to refer to followers of Buddha. The Way of Jesus Christ and The Way of Buddha share deep wisdom — the wisdom of transfiguration. Transfiguration is The Way. Transfiguration is human journey. The only question is how deeply we embrace it.
What does “transfiguration” mean anyway? It sounds like a fancy version of “transformation”. Indeed both words refer to one form changing into another: day becomes night, winter becomes spring, the chrysalis becomes a butterfly, and so on. What distinguishes “transfiguration” is that the new form reveals something that was hidden in the original. The new form is a larger, more all encompassing form through which the original is still recognizable but seen in a new way.
In the story of the “Transfiguration of Christ”, this inner identity is no less than the divinity of Jesus. As divinity shines through, the physical form of Jesus appears larger, brighter, and more dazzling than his usual appearance. The story tells us that Jesus has God’s unequivocal love and support. The appearance of Moses and Elijah, two ancient figures long since dead by the time of Jesus, challenges our usual sense of time — the distinction between past and present blurs; time is simply here, now.
In saying that transfiguration is our story — the human story — I suggest that the purpose of our human journey is coming to know and allowing divinity to shine through our very bodies. This may seem heretical to Christian teaching that draws a sharp distinction between the divinity of Christ and human beings. But the consequence of maintaining this sharp duality beneath layer of theological gymnastics is to discourage human growth, while demanding the authority of the Church. Followers of the faith remain sheep to be herded — sheep who don’t think too much, question too much, and above all who don’t question the authority of the Church. Needless to say this institutional authority is crumbling under its own weight. As it does, we are left with the naked truth of transfiguration.
In the scriptural story, the transfiguration occurs as Jesus is praying. What is the link between prayer and transfiguration? The prayer life of Jesus, as it unfolds in the scripture stories, brings forth all his experience — his hopes, dreams, fears, and delusions. His prayer is not a set of words that are repeated mindlessly, or a means to getting what He wants, or telling God the Father what He should do. We learn to pray from following the lead of Jesus. When we pray with all that we are, prayer includes the full force of our pride, greed, anger, lust, and jealousy and well as our caring, compassion, and generosity.
Prayer takes us on in inward journey that reveals what Thomas Merton calls the “True Self” — the authentic part of our being which is beyond our usual personality or ego. This is the larger reality of who we are, the “selfless self”, the one who is no longer an isolated, independent creature limited to time and space but the one who knowingly exists as part of giant web of creation, what Thich Nhat Hanh calls “interbeing”. This “True Self” is referred to in mystical language as the “Indwelling Presence”, the inner divinity within the human being. It is what the Buddhists call “Buddha nature”. This is the journey of transfiguration.
Prayer does not create transfiguration, but serves as the vehicle through which transfiguration unfolds. The journey of transfiguration is coming to know, to inhabit or embody this “larger self”, the “True Self”, or “Buddha nature”. Transfiguration brings forward the inner reality of compassion and wisdom; a consciousness that reaches out toward others, as it reaches within, dissolving the separation between self and other in the awareness that at the deepest level the human heart is one, regardless of race, culture, gender identification, or religion. We belong in and through this vastness, this “interbeing” that includes plants, animals, and all other living creatures. Prayer connects us — or raises our awareness of this connection — with the all embracing space of divinity, the “original goodness” of who we are; and teaches us to anchor in that deep connection with all Life. No wonder Christian teaching avoids the Transfiguration story!
Yet the essential divinity of human life is the great secret of the mystics and the Christian mystical tradition.
Human beings share the desire for happiness, and the relief of suffering. Each of us is born, each will die, and in between we breathe, taste, touch, smell, and hold as much reality as we can. But why is the journey so difficult? Why does Jesus warn that the journey demands we walk through a “narrow gate”? How is it that as St. Paul observed, we do the very thing we do not want to do. (Romans 15:8) We suffer and cause suffering in others. The ego dies hard. How are we to grapple with these human tendencies?
Throughout its history, Christianity has associated darkness with negativity: darkness is “evil”, “ignorant”, the “wrong way”, the “road not to take”; after all, as every Christian knows, “Jesus is the Light of the world”. Barbara Brown Taylor calls emphasis on light over dark “solar Christianity”. ** She points out that the (perhaps unintended) consequence of “solar Christianity” is that it instills a fear of the dark that leaves Christians in a perpetual state of fear of the unknown. Satan has no choice but to live in the dark, leaving the “light” to God. Taylor suggests that we need to re-orient and learn to appreciate the dark, to hear the wisdom of dark; and when we do, we discover not Satan but God.
Phantom of the Opera is one of the longest running shows on Broadway. And darkness is front and center. Erik, The Phantom, hides in the night to keep hidden his horribly scarred face. He becomes obsessed with the beautiful Christine, who loves another man. Erik invites Christine into his world with the popular theme song “Music of the Night”. The story climaxes when in frustration Erik strips away his mask, uncovering his scarred face. Christine, seeing Erik’s brokenness, kisses him tenderly, the first kiss he’s ever known, and in this single act of love Erik’s heart opens. His obsessive desire lifts and he sets Christine free to live her life.
Erik is transfigured, not because the scars on his face are removed but because he is freed from what binds him within, and the deeper love buried beneath his scarred face shines through.This fictional story resonates so strongly because it contains the deep truth of transfiguration. Each of us is scarred, desperately wanting love. Each of us is journeying toward realization of that love, discovering that Love is the very fabric of our existence. When we encounter the Love we seek, we are changed, we are transfigured. None of us is left behind.
What happens when we peer into the darkness? On March 29, 2003, as the “war on terror” surged in Iraq and Afghanistan, a picture appeared on the front page of The New York Times. *** The image captures an American soldier in Iraq, slumped on the ground, weeping as he holds a tiny child, an innocent victim who was killed in the crossfire. For a soldier to kill, he or she cannot afford to feel. In the picture the innocence of this child breaks through the inner walls that military training created, and the deeper reality of the soldier’s compassion is revealed. The soldier is transfigured — the greater truth of who he is shines through. He is a man, trained as a soldier to kill, yet cannot bear the consequences of his actions. As he holds the dead child, he sees the devastating consequences of war and is wracked with inconsolable grief. Darkness and light meet. The process is transfiguration.
Transfiguration is a process that includes what the Benedictines call “continuous conversion”, which means that in the spiritual journey we are converted, not once but again and again, toward God. In our returning, we become aware of who we truly are and the many ways that we turn toward and away from ourselves and God. Transfiguration is a process, not an event; a process that moves sometimes quickly, more often slowly. This is true for individuals. It is true for political, economic, cultural institutions as well.
Desmond Tutu speaks of the global “Principle of Transfiguration”, in which the dignity of all human beings is restored. This means insuring that all people are guaranteed the right to vote, access to education, clean air, running water, housing, and gainful employment. In the largest sense, transfiguration is the triumph of love over hatred; love that begins “by understanding that as much as God loves you, God equally loves your enemies.“ (from: Opening Address at The Gathering: South Africa; “Transfiguration” by Claude Nikondeha, Burundi. See: http://www.amahoro-africa.org/files/transfiguration—claude-nikondeha.pdf )
Transfiguration is a process that also applies to religious institutions. I submit that Christianity is experiencing institutional transfiguration as radical changes in structure continue to bring forth ancient deep wisdom. Pope Francis magnetizes tremendous energy in his simple acts of grace and humility: kissing a disfigured man, reaching out to the poor, messages of openness, forgiveness, and a willingness to confront darker sides of the Catholic Church. He embodies the teaching of Jesus, found directly in the story of the Transfiguration, that each one of us is claimed as God’s child.
Christianity is in the midst of cataclysmic change. Many parishes have closed or merged with others, leaving many clergy unemployed. Some clergy have turned away from their vows of ordination, no longer willing to support an institution they believe has lost its center. Some suggest that the church is dead. At the same time new churches and church structures are being formed. Church leaders are experimenting with new forms of worship — street worship, Internet worship, worship on Skype. An explosion of information and teachings offer people unlimited opportunities to explore various religious and spiritual paths and practices.
The purpose of religion — all religion — is to teach and support its followers in the journey of individual and global transfiguration. Christianity has often failed miserably. So, too, are plenty of examples of failures within other religions. But Christianity, like other religious traditions, began not as a religion but an experience — an experience of wisdom and compassion through which the early followers were transfigured. Jesus did not set out to create a religion. Neither did Buddha. For all the changes occurring within Christianity, and the world religions more broadly, I suggest that a deeper sense of unity is emerging. This is the unity of transfiguration.
How many times must I forgive, the student asks Jesus. “As many as seven times seventy,” he replies. Can we forgive religion? Can we appreciate that buried within her depths are the greatest teachings of wisdom and compassion, the keys of transfiguration? Can we embody the truth spoken in the words of Psalm 139:
“Darkness is not dark to you, O Lord;
darkness and light to you are both alike.”
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION:
What does transfiguration mean to you? Have you witnessed transfiguration in yourself? In another? Do you believe it is possible? If not, why not? If so, what hinders the transfiguration process in you? what support and encourages transfiguration in people? In communities? In institutions?
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* Biblical scholars treat stories and events that appear in all three of the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) as essential aspects of the historical record of Jesus Christ. The thread of these stories and events are the foundation upon which much theological interpretation is based. For more on this: Dennis Bratcher’s article, “The Gospels and the Synoptic Problem”: http://www.cresourcei.org/synoptic.html; and Biblical Training.org http://www.biblicaltraining.org/library/synoptic-gospels. For more in depth analysis: Studying the Synoptic Gospels: Origin and Interpretation by Robert H. Stein
** Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning To Walk in the Dark; US: HarperOne, 2014; UK: Canterbury Press
*** The photo can be found: http://www.buzzfeed.com/mbvd/37-remarkable-photos-from-the-iraq-war-and-the-stories-behin
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