Homily, The Transfiguration of Fear
The Last Sunday after the Epiphany (Year A)
St. Peter’s Episcopal Church
Plant City, FL
The Rev. Derek M Larson, TSSF
In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Every story we tell, has an element of fear in it. Have you ever noticed that? I don’t mean they are all necessarily horror stories or ghost stories, but that in almost all of the stories we tell one another there is an underlying sense of fear somewhere, and the best stories are those stories where the characters come face to face with their fear.
Sometimes that means that despite their fear they muster the courage to act. Sometimes that means they come to find that their fears were misplaced. Sometimes that means they learn to live with their fear without letting it control them. But all the best stories have something to do with facing fear. After all, fear is part of what it means to be human.
I’m wondering if, perhaps, the story of Jesus’ transfiguration that we hear today in the Gospel of Matthew is one of those stories.
In it, Jesus takes three of his disciples—Peter, James, and John—up a mountain to pray. And while on that mountain, the Jesus they’ve come to know and love is suddenly changed before their eyes. They see him as they have never seen him before. He is bathed in a bright, white light and accompanied by Moses and Elijah, two of Israel’s greatest prophets.
In his puzzlement, Peter hurriedly offers to build a shelter for each of them, but just as he finishes speaking a cloud descends upon them and a great voice speaks to them calling Jesus “Son” and “Beloved” with a command to listen to him, and suddenly Moses, Elijah, and the cloud are gone, Jesus is back to his regular self, and they journey down the mountain again.
It is a story that reveals something about the nature of Jesus. Which is why we hear it at the climax of this season after the Epiphany in which everything is meant to tell us something about Jesus’ sacred identity. This story shares a moment when God’s presence is manifested in a special way. For Peter, James, and John, it is a once in a lifetime experience when they catch a glimpse of who Jesus really is.
Now often when we talk about this story, we talk about it as this amazing mountain-top experience. The kind of wonderful, life-changing experience you don’t want to end. In fact, most of the time we interpret Peter’s sort of odd suggestion to set up shelters for Jesus and the two prophets as a signal of exactly that—that Peter wants to preserve this moment. That he wants it to last for as long as possible. But alas, they have to go back down the mountain into their ordinary, everyday rhythms of life.
But I’m wondering if there is something else happening here. As amazing and powerful as this experience must have been for these three disciples, I’m wondering if it was more terrifying than enchanting. Wouldn’t you think so if you were there?
The passage says that Jesus’ clothes became dazzling white. The word for “dazzling” here in Greek is more like “a flash of lightning.” And then SUDDENLY two men appeared, a word jarring in connotation. A cloud overshadowed them and the text says explicitly, “they were overcome by fear.”
I’m wondering if Peter offered to build three shelters not because he wanted the experience to last but because he kind of wanted it to end, or at least to turn down the volume on it.
I’m wondering if Peter was so overwhelmed and terrified by these three figures standing in glory like lightning before him that he wanted to tone it down. To contain it. To domesticate it. To control it.
Rather than wanting to set up camp in the moment, perhaps Peter wanted to build three shelters to put some distance between him and this encounter. After all he only offers shelters for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah, not himself and the other disciples. Maybe Peter doesn’t want to stay in the moment, maybe Peter wants some distance from the moment.
Have you ever felt like that? Has your fear ever been so intense that you wanted to cover it up? Has your anxiety ever felt so loud you wanted to dampen the sound? Has your grief ever been so deep that you wanted to avoid it by staying busy or numbing yourself to it? Have you ever wanted distance in your fear?
What if that was Peter’s experience on the top of that mountain?
Fear is uncomfortable. It makes us feel vulnerable. And sometimes it’s easier to get some distance from it by covering it up.
And yet, something else happens in this story amidst the fear. Peter encounters God. Peter glimpses the holy. Peter experiences the Beloved.
I wonder if there are things we fear that could actually be showing us God’s presence. I wonder if there are places in our lives where we are trying to set up tents to contain or cover up that which we fear, but where God is trying to show us something. To teach us something. To reveal to us something.
It’s easy to notice God’s presence in those experiences of profound beauty which give us comfort and assurance, but where in our lives are we missing God’s presence—missing what God is trying to show us—because we are too busy avoiding that which we fear?
For me, this story is not only about the transfiguration of Jesus, but the transfiguration of Peter’s fear. It is a story in which Peter finds that in facing his fear he is facing God. And that may be the invitation for us this morning.
Fear is not always good in and of itself. And the things we fear are not always good and holy things. Often they are horrific, tragic, and evil.
But God’s love does not avoid fear. And whatever the reason for our anxiety, fear can always be a place where we experience the voice of God speaking to us, if we are willing to sit with it for a little while with openness, honesty, and vulnerability, not because fear is always sacred, but because God is always with us in it.
Every good story features a character who faces their fear, and the story of the Transfiguration is a great story.
What kind of story are we living? What things are we afraid of, that God is inviting us to face? Where is God showing up in the midst of our fear?
If we can be honest with ourselves about those questions, and if we can resist the temptation to hide that which we fear under tents or coverings, than like Peter on the mountain, we may just find God transfigured before us as well. Amen.
Questions for Reflection
- What fears have I encountered recently, and how have they impacted my daily life and decisions?
- In what ways do I attempt to avoid or cover up my fears rather than facing them?
- Can I identify a moment when I felt God’s presence in the midst of my fear? What did that experience teach me?
- How might my perspective on fear shift if I viewed it as an opportunity for growth and spiritual insight?
- What steps can I take to confront my fears with openness and vulnerability, trusting that God is with me in those moments?
Thoughts on Faith 