A brilliant magician was performing on an ocean liner. But every time he did a trick, the Captain’s parrot would yell, “It’s a trick. He’s a phony. That’s not magic.” Then one evening during a storm, the ship sank while the magician was performing. The parrot and the magician ended up in the same lifeboat. For several days they just glared at each other, neither saying a word to the other. Finally the parrot said, “OK, I give up. What did you do with the ship?”

That last trick was too much to comprehend, even for a smart parrot. Today we hear a Bible story that is too much to comprehend—what was really happening?

In life, moments occur that are incomprehensible. The birth of one’s own child is one of those moments. The loss of a loved one is one of those moments. September 11 was one of those moments. Hurricane Katrina was another. There are mountaintop and valley moments throughout life for which we are never ready. They arrive unannounced and change us in irreversible ways. But there is one thing they all have in common. They demand that we pay attention. These moments have something to say to us.

The transfiguration story is one that cannot be adequately explained by modern scholarship. It is a great vision demanding only that we pay attention.  It is dramatically staged on a mountain peak lit with blinding light.

The mountain setting is familiar to us. How many times have you been dazzled by the sun reflecting off the snow capped peaks? Long before Christianity was brought to the Colorado region, the native peoples understood that certain peaks were the sacred dwelling places of the Great Spirit. “This is the place where I can listen to my maker,” one tribe member said.

The ancient peoples of the Holy Land had this same sense of place and geography. They also understood mountains to be “the place where I can listen to my maker.” Jesus took his most intimate disciples up the holy mountain of their faith. He showed them how to listen to their Maker, and draw strength from the shared memory of God’s presence in their lives. Their eyes were opened to see the sacred light as it radiated from Jesus’ face. The light poured out from within him and its rays illuminated their hearts and minds and souls. The mountaintop’s holy light was meant not to dazzle or overwhelm with fear, but to empower and set free. It enabled them to see in the dark by giving them the tools of night vision. Then they could rise at his command, like Lazarus, and pursue the fullness of life without fear, themselves filled with holy light.

God’s light continues to shine in our lives as well. Through grief and fear, doubt and cynicism, violence and war, suffering and death, our way is illumined by the holy light of God’s presence and love. We first see it on the mountaintop, or in those magical, mystical, mythical moments, God moments, transfiguration moments in our own lives. Then we carry it down to the flatlands and even into the valley of the shadow of death. The light from above then glows within and gradually dissolves all fear. (Patricia Farris is senior minister of First United Methodist Church in Santa Monica, California.COPYRIGHT 2002 The Christian Century Foundation)

What are the God-moments in your life?

Birth of Emma (pregnancy test, test tube)

Sitting on mountain top in the sunshine, eyes closed

Walking the labyrinth

This story is telling us that God’s light, the same one that illuminated Jesus as the Christ, fills each of you. Because Christ is the light of the world, and you are filled with Christ, you are the light of the world. The primary function of light is not to be seen, but to let things be seen as they are; to help others find their way.  We are to shine our transfigured light on others so they may know who they really are.

The gift of transfiguration light is that we are able to see people as they really are—as beloved children of God.

So get up and do not be afraid. “Get up,” says Jesus. “You are filled with light and new life.” The promise of this story is the same as the promise of the resurrection—there is always new life to be found on the other side of suffering and death. “Do not be afraid,” counsels Jesus. “I am going to walk with you, and assure you of the presence of God in your life.” The greatest guarantee of Christ’s companionship is that nothing in all creation — no pain or crying, suffering or dying — can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:39).

So keep looking up. Jesus is our light and our life, our “bright morning star,” the one that can lead us and guide us (Revelation 22:16).

Bright morning star a-rising,
Bright morning star a-rising,
Bright morning star a-rising,
Day is a-breaking in my soul.