This is my Son, the Beloved

"It's supposed to look like this when you're done."

"This" may be the picture on the envelope of the sewing pattern, the cover of the jigsaw puzzle, or the assembly instructions for shelves. Manufacturers tease us with a picture to show us how beautiful whatever we bought is going to look. Invariably, we never realize how much work it's going to be to get to the finished product. But, whenever we get discouraged we can look back at that picture, get inspired, and retool our work until one day it really does look like it's supposed to look when it's done.

The transfiguration is that kind of a picture. In it we see an image of Easter. The Church gives us this picture near the beginning of Lent, so we know what the finished product will look like when we get to the end.

Each year the Second Sunday of Lent brings us this story. This year we hear Mark's version, probably the oldest. The visionary nature of the story makes it sound like an episode from after the Resurrection.

Mark recounts the incident in his typically brief style: Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain. He himself is transformed, and even his cloths turn white. Elijah and Moses appear, to speak with him. Peter, terrified, offers to build some tents for them. An overhanging cloud lets loose a voice that says "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" Then they look up and see only Jesus.

We don't know which mountain this was, but since Mark describes it as a place apart, many commentators assume it's Mount Tabor. Tabor rises seemingly out of nowhere, looking like some pregnant belly arcing up, as if the earth itself were lying prone ready to give birth. It invites the impression that God would surely do business here.

The three disciples whom Jesus leads there have accompanied him on other missions in Mark: Among the first to follow Jesus (1:16-20), they watched the cure of Peter's mother-in-law (1 :29), the raising of Jairus' daughter (5:37), and would later escort him to Gethsemane (14:33). Their presence typically signals an important moment in Jesus' ministry.

The appearance of Elijah and Moses adds to the solemnity of this occasion. Many people assume they represent the law and the prophets, two great subdivisions of the Old Testament. Jesus then would symbolize the one toward whom these scriptures point.

Other interpretations are possible. Both Moses and Elijah were taken to heaven at the end of their lives. Moses' burial place remains unknown (Dt 34:6), and Elijah ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot (2 Kgs 2:11). Both were expected to return again, too (Mal 3:23-24 or 4:5-6, and Dt 18:15). Peter must have suspected something was up; he volunteered to erect three tents, as if the three of them had come to stay. Perhaps he was expecting the end of the world.

The appearance of Elijah reminds us of John the Baptist's role. Mark is about to indicate that John fulfills Elijah's role (9:13) John, the forerunner of Jesus, has already prophesied by imprisonment and death that Jesus will face fatal suffering at the hands of his enemies. So the appearance of Elijah sobers the careful reader of the Gospel.

The conversation that follows the apparitions concerns what rising from the dead might mean. You could call that conversation the first Lent --a discussion and introspection about death and rising.

The voice that comes from the cloud answers the main questions which drives Mark's Gospel, "Who is Jesus?" It says, "This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!" The cloud reminds us of the cloud that led Israel' s Exodus from Egypt (Ex 16:10, 19:9,etc.) There they found the glory of the Lord. And the voice reminds us of the voice that boomed from the heavens at the baptism of Jesus --"You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased" (Mk 1:11), and the voice of Peter that has just proclaimed the truth of Jesus' identity --"You are the Messiah" (Mk 8:29).

Still, in spite of the voice, the disciples hear, but do not understand. They still face the question about what rising from the dead means.

At a distance of 2,000 years, the signs accompanying the transfiguration reveal truths that seem oblivious to us: glory, eternity, resurrection, and the victory over suffering. Perhaps there are signs around us whose meaning future generations will think are obvious.

Where do you see the glory of Christ revealed in your family? In your parish? In our country?

Where do you find your image of Christ, a picture you can turn to that encourages you when you feel at a loss?

 [This article was published in The Catholic Key 2/20/94 for the 2nd Sunday in Lent - 2/27/94]