The Day He Shone Like the Sun

Matthew 17:1–13

Do you know what it feels like when something sad is happening, and you wish, just for a moment, you could peek at the very end of the story and see that it all turns out all right?

Jesus knew his friends were carrying a heavy thing. He had told them a hard truth. That soon he would suffer. That the road ahead went through sorrow. And their hearts had grown heavy and afraid.

So one day Jesus took three of them, Peter and James and John, up a tall mountain. Just the four of them. Up and up, where the air is thin and the world is small and far below.

And there, something happened that no one was ready for.

Jesus changed.

He did not turn into someone else. He shone with more of himself than they had ever seen. His face began to shine like the sun. Bright, and brighter, until they had to squint. His clothes turned white as light, whiter than snow, whiter than anything in the whole world. This was Jesus the way he really is, underneath. The King, blazing and beautiful. The glory he had tucked away so he could walk our dusty roads on ordinary feet.

And he was not alone. Two old friends of God stood with him. Moses, who long before had met God on another mountain, and Elijah, who had heard God's gentle whisper on a mountain of his own. For long, long years they had pointed ahead and said, "Someone is coming. Wait for him." And now here he was, talking with them like the dearest of friends. The one the whole long story had been waiting for.

Peter did not know what to say, so he said something anyway. "Lord, it is good to be here! Let me build three little shelters, one for each of you." He wanted to hold the moment still. Oh, who wouldn't?

But while he was still talking, a bright cloud came and wrapped around them. And out of the cloud came a Voice. The Father's voice. Warm and certain and full of love.

"This is my Son. The one I love. I am so pleased with him. Listen to him."

The three friends fell on their faces, trembling, hiding their eyes. It was too much. Too bright, too holy, too wonderful.

And then Jesus did the gentlest thing. He came near. He reached out his hand and touched them, the way you touch someone you love to wake them gently. "Get up," he said. "Don't be afraid."

And when they lifted their eyes, the light had folded away. The cloud was gone. Moses and Elijah were gone. There was only Jesus. Only their friend, with his ordinary face, standing close.

Walking back down the mountain, Jesus told them to keep the secret tucked in their hearts for now. Because the shining was not the end yet. First he had to go down into the sorrow. First the cross.

But on that mountain, his friends had been given a peek. A glimpse of the very end of the story.

The sadness would not have the last word. One day he would come back, not hidden anymore, but shining for the whole world to see, the way they saw him there. The whole sky full of his light. Every knee bending. Every tear wiped away.

They had seen it with their own eyes. The King was coming. And the brightest part of all was still on its way.