Summary: Two powerful stories are before us today. There is this first story about Moses, who according to Jewish thought, is the greatest of all of God's prophets. Moses, the liberator. Moses, the sojourner. Moses, the one who could speak to God face to face, call him by name, and leave the mountain glowing because of the meeting. Like Jesus, in our gospel reading, Moses entered deeply into God's own life, God's own mystery and left the whole encounter shining. We all hunger for that kind of transformation with God, don't we? Theologian Rudolf Otto says that we are both drawn to God and yet terrified of holy encounters. Deep inside, even among the most profane, is a yearning for sacred significance. We want something, someone to stir us deep down so that our face literally radiates holy goodness; something, someone who will leave us shining, shimmering and beaming transcendent. This gospel text of Jesus' transfiguration fits into this,too. Jesus climbs a mountain with Peter, John and James and like Moses of old, radiates from the holy encounter of the glory of God. To be transfigured, you see, is to be swept up into something beyond category. All week long we are categorized and labeled. All week long we answer to names and titles and positions. All week long we are distracted by the many voices calling us and claiming us and at times containing us. It does not take long before we start believing in these categories. When people retire, for example, they are often terrified that they can no longer say, "I am an engineer; I am a teacher; I am a doctor," because the categories are now incomplete. I remember so well when my wife and I were approaching the prospect of an empty nest, we held in tension unbridled joy and identity crisis. Who am I, after all, apart from my children? Or for that matter my job or my marital status? All week long we live under other titles, names and claims.
