There are moments in life when the veil between the temporal and the eternal seems thin—when reality, as we know it, is momentarily suspended, and we glimpse something of the divine. In the life of Jesus, the Transfiguration is precisely such a moment. This extraordinary event, witnessed by Peter, James, and John, is not only a dramatic manifestation of Christ’s glory but a penetrating revelation of the relationship between suffering and glory, law and grace, time and eternity.
Let us step onto that mountain and explore its mysteries.
The Feast of Tabernacles and the Liturgy of Life
To begin with, scholars have long debated the timing of the Transfiguration. Was it on the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkoth), or perhaps the Day of Atonement (Yom ha-Kippurim)? There is something significant in both interpretations, for the Jewish feasts themselves carry three distinct layers of meaning: celebration of nature, remembrance of divine action, and anticipation of future hope. These festivals, deeply interwoven into the Jewish liturgical calendar, find their fulfilment in the life of Christ. They foreshadow the events that not only shaped Israel’s past but also anticipate God’s ultimate saving action in history.
The Transfiguration, taking place shortly after Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Messiah, is a continuation of this liturgical unfolding. As Pope Benedict XVI notes, these events follow the rhythm of the Jewish calendar, linking Christ’s life to Israel’s sacred celebrations. The Feast of Tabernacles, in particular, commemorated the Israelites dwelling in tents during their wilderness journey, and yet it also pointed forward to the age to come, when the just would dwell in eternal tabernacles. When Peter, in his moment of ecstasy, suggests pitching three tents—one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah—he may well be indicating his belief that the Messianic age had arrived. But, as we shall see, Peter’s vision was still incomplete, for he had yet to understand the necessity of the Cross.
The Mountain of Revelation and Ascent
Mountains, in biblical literature, are often places of divine encounter. From Moses receiving the law on Mount Sinai to Elijah hearing God in the whisper on Mount Horeb, mountains serve as places where heaven touches earth. Jesus Himself frequently ascended mountains to pray, to preach, and, as we see here, to reveal His glory. In each of these instances, the mountain represents both an outward ascent—a journey from the everyday world—and an inward ascent, a spiritual journey into the presence of God.
The Transfiguration, however, takes us beyond the symbolic. On this particular mountain, something miraculous happens: Jesus is transfigured before His disciples. His face shines like the sun, His clothes become dazzling white, and His divine glory is revealed in a way that Peter, James, and John had never seen before. This moment, more than any other, reveals Christ’s true nature as both fully human and fully divine.
But this is no mere spectacle. The presence of Moses and Elijah alongside the transfigured Christ tells us something critical about the nature of this event. These two figures represent the Law and the Prophets, the foundation of the Old Covenant. By appearing with Jesus, they attest to His fulfilment of the entire history of Israel. As Benedict XVI notes, this is the final Exodus, the culmination of Israel’s journey, which will reach its climax in Christ’s death and resurrection.
Peter’s Impulsive Response: A Vision of Permanency
Peter’s response to this glorious vision is characteristically impulsive. “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4).1 One cannot help but sympathise with Peter. Faced with the overwhelming glory of Christ, his instinct is to freeze the moment, to make it permanent. Yet his request reveals a misunderstanding of the nature of glory.
Peter’s desire to pitch tents is more than a practical suggestion. It is an attempt to enshrine the divine moment, to make it a permanent fixture of his reality. When confronted with something beautiful, something transcendent, we often seek to possess it, forgetting that beauty and glory are meant to draw us beyond ourselves, not to be trapped in our grasp. Peter, in his desire to build tents, is trying to secure something that is meant to be a fleeting glimpse of eternity. The Messianic Age he longs for will indeed come, but not through enshrining this moment on the mountain. It will come through the valley of suffering that lies ahead.
The Command from the Cloud: “Listen to Him”
As Peter stumbles over his words, a bright cloud envelops them, and the voice of God speaks from within it: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him, I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:5).2 This moment mirrors Jesus’ baptism, where the voice of God also affirmed His Sonship. Yet here, the message is different. God adds a command: “Listen to him.”
In this brief but powerful statement, we see a profound shift. Moses had gone up the mountain to receive the Law, but now Jesus is the Law. The voice from the cloud affirms that Jesus is the new Torah, the living Word of God. No longer is the Law a set of external commandments, carved in stone. Now, the Law is a person, and the command is to listen to Him.
What does it mean to “listen to Him”? In this context, it means not only hearing Jesus’ teachings but embracing the path He is about to walk—a path that leads to the Cross. This is the great paradox of the Christian faith: the glory of God is revealed not in triumph and power, but in suffering and sacrifice. To listen to Jesus is to accept that the way to glory runs through the valley of humiliation.
The Kingdom of God in Power
The Transfiguration also gives us a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. Before leading them up the mountain, Jesus had told His disciples, “There are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Kingdom of God come with power” (Mark 9:1).3 Some have interpreted this as a prediction of the Second Coming, but as Rudolf Pesch argues, the event on the mountain is itself the fulfilment of this promise. In the Transfiguration, Peter, James, and John see the glory of the Kingdom breaking into the present. They see Christ as He truly is—radiant, glorious, the embodiment of the divine power that will be fully revealed in His resurrection.
Yet, the Kingdom of God is not merely a future reality; it is a present one, hidden beneath the surface of ordinary life. The Transfiguration is a moment when that hidden reality breaks through. But it is not meant to be the norm. We are given glimpses of glory, but we must return to the world of shadows and toil. The Kingdom is here, and yet it is not here in its fullness.
Coming Down from the Mountain
As quickly as the Transfiguration happens, it ends. The disciples look up, and Moses and Elijah are gone. The dazzling light fades. Jesus is once again as He was before, and He leads His disciples back down the mountain.
There is something profoundly human about this descent. We, too, have our moments on the mountaintop—moments of clarity, of beauty, of divine encounter. But we cannot stay there. Like the disciples, we must return to the ordinary world, carrying with us the memory of the glory we have seen.
Yet, those mountaintop experiences are not an end in themselves. They are a foretaste, a signpost pointing us toward the ultimate reality that lies beyond this world. The Transfiguration is a glimpse of the glory that awaits, but it is also a reminder that the way to that glory passes through the Cross. We must descend from the mountain and walk the path of discipleship, trusting that the glory we have seen is real, even when the road becomes difficult.
In the end, the Transfiguration is not just a story about a miraculous event on a mountain long ago. It is a story about us, about our own journey through suffering to glory, and about the God who, in Christ, walks that path with us.
See the other chapter reviews of the first volume on Jesus of Nazareth here.
Footnotes
- And Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is well that we are here; if you wish, I will make three booths here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Eli′jah.” ↩︎
- He was still speaking, when lo, a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my beloved Son,[a] with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” ↩︎
- And he said to them, “Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God come with power.” ↩︎
