Transfiguring Ourselves

February 15, 2026 • Sixth Sunday after Epiphany •Transfiguration Sunday
Scripture Lesson: Matthew 17:1-19 (The Inclusive Bible)
Rev. K Karpen

[You can view the full worship video recording at: https://youtu.be/EotCOzsWL8U]

Jesus climbs up a high mountain that day
Something happens up there that blows his friends away
In the windy presence of eternity, they experience the power of divinity

He has with him Peter, James and John,
Three disciples Jesus feels he can always count on
They don’t always get it but they’re loyal as a dog
And up there on the heights they catch a glimpse of God

Peter says “God is giving a sign sure to please us
A glowing and fabulously shiny Jesus!
And unless I’m suffering some kind of psychosis
He’s chatting with his buddies Elijah and Moses”

Peter says, “Lord, it’s a good thing that you brought us
This vision is much cooler than anything you’ve taught us”
But to show you that we do, the things you teach us to,
We can make three tents, one for each of you”

Peter’s babbling must be getting on God’s last good nerve
(There’s a time for talking and a time to just observe)
So suddenly cloud comes and covers them all
And out from out of the cloud they can hear a voice call:

“This is my child, my beloved, with whom I’m well pleased
Just shut up for a moment, and listen, if you please.”
As they heard the voice resound, they fell to the ground
And when they looked up, it’s only Jesus they found

Happy Transfiguration Sunday! The final Sunday before Lent always brings us to the mountaintop, the high place where Jesus holds a summit with the giants of his Jewish faith, Moses and Elijah, while three of the disciples look on.

Today I would like us to look at not only what happens up there on the mountain, but what happens when Jesus and Peter, James and John rejoin the rest of the crew down there in the valley. What happens when Jesus is confronted by a frustrated parent of a sick child: "I brought him to your disciples, but they could not cure him."

Because what happens up there on the mountain and in the valley is important for Jesus, but just as important to the disciples. The moments on the mountain and in the valley are crucial to what we know about who Jesus is. At his essence. And I think those moments are also helpful to understanding who we are. At our essence.

These moments on the mountain and the valley matter, because what they teach us is not just theoretical, not just theological, but ontological, who Jesus is. And because of that, those moments for us are also ontological. Who we are.

You know what ontological means? Such a fun big word. I had to look it up.
Ontology deals with the is-ness of things.

The isness of Jesus is that he is who he is: fully and completely human, and fully and completely divine. Both gritty and glowing. The beloved child of God.

The isness of us is that we are who we are. Human beings made in the image of God. We are the beloved children of God. Gritty and glowing.

Let’s first go up the mountain.

Peter sees Jesus transfigured.  But what does that mean? Jesus looks different.  He appears in a different way, he appears in a different light. And he appears as himself. He looks different, in order to look like himself.

One lesson we learn from our trans siblings is how it can be so vitally necessary to transform our appearance, in order to appear the way we are. To transfigure oneself, to show forth as who you are.

You might not believe this, but people occasionally make fun of me, claiming that I wear basically the same outfit every day of my life.  

I forgive you.

But I would like to point out that Jesus probably wore the same thing all the time, too.  The guy who says in Matthew 5, “if someone asks for your cloak, give them your coat as well,” who says if you have two robes give one away, that guy probably did not have a huge wardrobe.  What he wore in the streets is what he wore to dinner, or to the synagogue. 

But not on that mountain.  Something happens up on that mountain.  Something different is going on.

But, what is it?  Matthew calls it a transfiguration, in Greek, μεταμορφόω literally a metamorphosis.  A change in form.  A change in figure. A profound change in appearance. This trans Jesus looks different.  Not different in who he is, at his core, but different than who Peter and the other disciples have imagined him to be. He looks like who he is. Now they see who he is!

I almost hear Peter in his astonishment, singing that old Christian song: You’re a Waymaker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness,
my God, that is who you are. That is who you are.

His clothes are different, sure, but that not what Peter notices first.  It’s his face, the mirror of the soul.  His face is shining like the sun.  His face is shining with this divine light. 

Jesus glows because that divine spark, implanted in him, implanted in each of us, that divine spark that lives and glows in him bursts out onto the surface, so that even Peter, not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, even Peter can see it. 

On the top of that mountain that day, God reveals something about who Jesus is.  Who Jesus really is.  The light of the world. The sun of righteousness. The bright and morning star. The dazzling second person of the trinity.

That’s not all of who Jesus is, of course.  Just as much a part of who Jesus is as this dazzling divinity, is his earthy humanity.  And we forget about either part of Jesus to our spiritual peril.

Peter notices Jesus’ glowing face that day because it’s such a marked contrast to how Jesus usually looks after a day or a week or a month or a year on the road.  Peter notices those dazzlingly bright clothes because they are in such stark contrast to how Jesus usually looks. 

Clothing dyed by the dust of the road.  Robes scented with the smell of fish, printed by the fingers of the desperately ill, and marked by the blood of a bleeding woman. That’s his usual fashion statement.

Clothes contaminated by the diseases of people Jesus can’t refrain from embracing. Stained by the wine Jesus shares with the outcast and ridiculed.  Stippled with the crumbs left by the people he feeds.  Stained by the grass as he sits down to teach them.

Beautifully, sacredly marred clothing. 

But today is different.  Something is different.  And it shows, that spark of the divine shows through.  Not only through his glowing face, but through his dazzling clothes.  They don’t reflect the light of God, they are letting the light of God shine through. 

The light of God is always there, of course.  It’s just suddenly become more obvious.  Harder to miss. 

And that’s what Peter sees.  He sees Jesus in a different light.  And it’s not just the face and the clothes; he has this vision, Matthew says, he has a vision of Moses and Elijah in the company of Jesus.

And how does Peter react? I feel bad about this.  Preachers always make fun of Peter for this.  He babbles.  He says whatever comes to mind.

‘Lord, it is a good thing we’re here! We can build three little tents, umm, one for you, and one for Moses, and one for Elijah!!’

We can forgive Peter, though.  He’s dazzled by seeing Jesus as he is.  He’s dazzled by the company of Moses and Elijah.  I mean, it’s Moses. And Elijah! So, of course he starts to fangirl.

Fortunately, God steps in, and Peter has an epiphany:  A cloud overshadows them.  Whenever you hear about a cloud in scripture, it’s code. Code for God. And a voice comes from this cloud,

Telling Peter, ‘This is my beloved child, just let him be who he is. Saying to Peter “This is my son.  My beloved.  Shut up and listen to him.”

And if you don’t think that God sometimes says things like “Shut up,” you might think about spending more time in prayer. 

Peter hears the voice of God.  He hears what the Rabbinic literature refers to in Hebrew as a bat kol, literally, ‘a daughter of a voice.’  God’s voice like that of a young girl.

It’s called a בּת קול because God’s voice comes in a lot of different ways.  And mostly it comes to us, if it comes to us, as it came to the prophet Elijah, as a still, small voice.  Or as the Hebrew literally says, kol d’mamah dakkah. the voice of quiet stillness.  A voice of quiet stillness. A silent voice. 

The voice of God may thunder over the waters and be heard above the crashing of waves, shaking the world, but it usually doesn’t.  I think it more often comes as a bat kol, the daughter of a voice. A voice of quiet stillness. 

Which means, to hear it, we sometimes need to be quiet and still ourselves.

And what does that בּת קול, that daughter of a voice, whisper to us?
“You are my beloved child. That is who you are.”

*****

You see, this transfiguration, this transformation, is not just about Jesus.  It’s also about us. The heart of the Gospel message is that we’re not stuck with who we appear to be.  Because God sees us, the way we really are, and who we are becoming: the beloved children of God that God created us to be.  ‘Wonderfully, and fabulously made,’ as it says in scripture.

God sees us, Jesus sees us, in the grimy shadows of our lives, and able to shine out with the light of the love of God.

In my mind, that is why, when Jesus comes down the mountain, he is so frustrated with the other disciples. He seems to say, I know who you are, and right now, you are not being who you are. You are not showing up as who you are.

And I almost hear Jesus singing to them,
Waymakers, miracle workers, promise keepers, lights in the darkness,
Just be, just be who you are. Just be who you are.

The good news of the gospel is the miracle of OUR transfiguration.
Our showing up as who we actually are. In the fullness of our ontology.
The fullness of our humanity. The fullness of our divinity.

Here’s the truth we sometimes miss.  The light that shines through Jesus shines also through us!  It sometimes has some work to do to cut through the grime and the soot and shadows of our lives, it’s sometimes hard to see it peeking out from the buckets and bushels we try to cover it with, but it’s there.

We shine, and not just with reflected light, the reflected light of the glow of Jesus.  No, we also shine from within, from that divine spark planted in us at the moment of creation. Don’t you feel it?? Look around, Do you see it??That’s your ontology, that’s your isness.
That’s your spark of divinity bursting out!

That spark that somehow glows right through our best efforts to hide it. 

That divine spark that shows the love of God that pours into us and pours through us and pours out of us into this dim and sometimes shadowy world. 

You are beloved! I am beloved! Shout it out, “I am beloved.”
Turn to somebody and whisper, You are beloved. “You are beloved!’

Open yourself to that love of God.
Listen for that still, small voice.
Be transformed into who you are.
Stand up, brave, bold and transfigured.

Waymakers, miracle workers, promise keepers, lights in the darkness,
Just be, just be who you are. Just be who you are.

Copyright © 2026 - Rev. K Karpen
All rights reserved.

How does it feel to be a beloved child of God?
How does it feel to see that someone you don’t like is a beloved child of God?
How could our transfiguration help to transform the world?