The Feast of the Transfiguration is one of those Gospel scenes that almost overwhelms us with beauty. Jesus, radiant with divine light. Moses and Elijah appeared in glory. The mountain enveloped in a cloud—the biblical sign of God’s presence. And the Father’s voice from heaven.
It’s no wonder Peter is caught up in the awe of the moment. “Master,” he says, “it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents.” In other words: Let’s stay here. Let’s not go back down. Let’s preserve this moment forever.
Peter speaks for many of us. When life is full of light and peace, when prayer feels rich, when faith is consoling—we want to build our tents and stay put. We want the mountain without the valley. The glory without the Cross. The vision without obedience to the Word. We want Jesus the shining Savior, not Jesus the suffering servant.
But we can’t live on the mountaintop. Jesus didn’t. He knew that this revelation of glory was not an end in itself. It was a preparation. Jesus knew Jerusalem and the Cross was his destination. This mountain top moment was for divine encouragement to strengthen him, and to strengthen his disciples. The way ahead was paved with challenges and difficult moments.
When the path is uncertain or painful, when we’re tempted to cling to spiritual highs or avoid the hard parts of discipleship. It is for this moment that the Transfiguration reminds us not to keep staring but to listen. As God the Father says: Listen to my Son. When Jesus tells us to love our enemies, forgive seventy times seven, carry our cross daily—listen to him. When He says, “Do not be afraid,” and “I will be with you”—listen to him.
Even as we remember the encouraging moment, we don’t stay on the mountain. But we remember what we saw there. The Transfiguration is a promise of what awaits us if we follow Jesus. Not in tents on a mountain top, not forever in the pews, but the mission to the world awaits us. And beyond that eternal glory.
Our life of faith will give glimpses of that transfiguring light even now: in the Mass, in the Eucharist, in the Word of God, in moments of grace and beauty. But we must follow Jesus down the mountain—to serve, to suffer, to love, to give ourselves away.
Peter eventually understood this. He came down the mountain. He stumbled and fell. But he also rose, he listened, and he followed. May we do the same.
Image credit: Detail of “The Transfiguration of Jesus” by Raphael (1516-1520) | Vatican Museum | PD-US