Reflections...

A sermon preached at Kowloon Union Church on Epiphany 8 – Transfiguration Sunday 27 February 2022, by Peter Youngblood.  The scripture readings that day were Exodus 34:29-35; Luke 9:28-36, 37-43a. 

Like many millennials of a certain age, I grew up alongside a boy named Harry Potter. I read the first book when I was in the 7th grade. At that time, Harry was in his first year at Hogwarts, so we weren’t that different in age. We were both early in our Secondary School education. As I matured, so did Harry. For Harry, each school year was a new adventure for him, Ron, and Hermione. And a new book came out almost every year when I was in Middle and High School. So, reading them was almost like going on an adventure with my best friends!

I must admit, I was a little jealous of Harry. American public school is nothing like the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was no fun to just be a “Muggle”—a word that I find very rude by the way; in fact, I am going to use the term “non-magical” instead. Magical kids like Harry got to take the cool courses like Charms, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Non-magical kids like me had to take classes like Civics, History, Biology, and Math. One Hogwarts class that I wish I could have taken was Transfiguration, taught by none other than the wizarding world’s most important Scot, Minerva McGonagall.

Those of you who have read the Harry Potter books will know what “transfiguration” is. Americans usually say “transformation,” but it’s the same basic thing. Transfiguration is when something is materially changed into something else. For example: A witch flicks her wand, and changes a rabbit into flowers, a duck into cake, or cryptocurrency into something that has actual value. 

It's very cool, but magical transfiguration has limits. In the wizarding world, the unspoken rule is that these transformations are not meant be permanent. If you were to change a human being into a pig, you would be expected to change them back into a human at some point. And even as a pig, the transformed person would still be considered a human being; they would still have human thoughts, human feelings, and inalienable human rights. Transfiguration—or transformation—just means that the physical structure and appearance of something of someone is changed, not the essence. A cup transformed into flowers is still—in essence—a cup. A human being turned into a pig still has the soul of a human being. Yes, even if it is Draco Malfoy.

Magical transfiguration is superficial. It’s a disguise or trick. It changes the way someone appears, but not the core of who they are. It’s not that much different than putting on costume. Costumes let us pretend to be someone who we are not, and that can be fun! Growing up, I loved going trick-or-treating on Halloween, dressed as a ghost or Wolverine. I’ve never done it myself, but I’m always impressed by the dedication and skill of the cosplayers who dress up as fictional characters for pop culture conventions like World Con or Dragon Con.

Now it’s true that what we wear on the outside usually says something about who we are on the inside. A man wearing a suit walking around Central might very well be a banker. A person wearing a cassock is probably Christian clergy. But quite often what people wear does not match who they truly are. Appearances can be very deceiving. And it’s not just visual appearance. A person’s voice, mannerisms, and demeanor can all be a façade. The most well-dressed, soft-spoken, and congenial world leaders could be monsters filled with hate who bomb civilians. People who seem powerful in politics and media, may actually be very small insecure people at heart. People who lash out against others usually do so out of fear of their own weaknesses. The weakest people in the world are often the ones who try to dress themselves in strength. The most evil people in the world are often the ones with the most charm and refinement.  

So transfiguration, transformation—the change of appearances—can be deceptive. But today we mark a very different kind of transfiguration. In our Scripture reading, Jesus is with Peter, James, and John on a mountain, traditionally thought to be Mount Tabor. And as he is praying Jesus’s face suddenly shines and his clothing glows white. With him appear Moses and Elijah. This transfiguration is not a façade. It is real because it is a sign of who Jesus really is. It is an affirmation of the moment before this, when Jesus asked Peter: “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter responds: “You are the Messiah.” It is a preview of what comes next, when God says, “This is my Son, my Chosen; Listen to Him!” The transfiguration is a confirmation of Jesus’ identity. 

We are led to believe that Moses and Elijah are positioned in such a way to show that Jesus is superior to the Prophets that came before him. Moses, in Exodus, encounters God several times on Mount Sinai. When he returns from his last trip up to the peak, in Exodus 34, his face shines with light, making the ancient Israelites very afraid. 

But Moses’ transformation in Exodus is not the same as what we read in Luke. Moses is a prophet, a man meant to deliver a message from God. His shining face does not represent who he is, but who God is. When Moses speaks, he speaks with God’s authority, not his own. From then on, whenever he is not speaking on behalf of God, he covers his face with a veil. That way the people are not confused. Moses the man must disappear, so that whenever anyone sees his face, they know they really see the face of God. 

What happens to Jesus is very different. His glow is not a costume or a veil. It is not hiding who he is. It is more like the shining of a light. It is showing who he is, who is has always been: The Son of God.

But mere appearances are not enough. It is also not enough for Simon-Peter to say Jesus is the Messiah. It is not even enough for God to call out from the heavens, naming Jesus the “Chosen One.” If this were enough, Jesus should have ascended into heaven right then and there. But as Scottish evangelist Oswald Chambers wrote, he turns his back on the Glory. Jesus is not yet done. He has saving work to do. And the first thing that Jesus does, after this transfiguration, is an exorcism. He heals a man’s son. This is another sign that Jesus is the Christ. This is another sign of the power of God.

But it is also a sign of something else important. If I may revise a common proverb, actions speak louder than not just words, but also appearances. Our actions say who we are. 

We certainly have our evil inclinations, but I believe that in each of us there is a seed of something good. In Christian theology there is the idea that, beyond the basic salvation that comes from Christ, there is also the possibility of sanctification, or perfection. I’m a Methodist, and though some hard-core Calvinists will disagree, Methodists believe that part of sanctification is doing good works, particularly what we call “works of mercy.” These are actions like helping the poor and caring for the sick. 

I believe that as people of Christ we must believe that inside ourselves exists a good soul waiting to get out through our own works of love, mercy, and care for each other. While I don’t think we can ever be as perfect as Jesus, we too can “glow” in God’s radiance. This happens when who are on the outside—the things that we do and things that we say—matches the good person that lives inside of us. The Christ that lives inside of us. That is how all of us can be transfigured.

Amen.