I was looking through the Lent section in the hymnal Lift Up Your Hearts and noticed it was titled “Transfiguration and Lenten Journey.” This struck me as an unusual, somewhat peculiar pairing. What does the miracle of the Transfiguration of Jesus have to do with Lent? As I did some research, I found the answer to my question to be “a lot.”
Epiphany and Transfiguration
In the Protestant liturgical calendar, Transfiguration Sunday typically belongs to the bit of Ordinary Time between Epiphany and Lent. It is the last Sunday of this season, and rightfully so. Transfiguration shares many themes with Epiphany. As the bright star shone in the night sky and led the Magi to Bethlehem, Jesus on the mountaintop now illuminates the day. The light of Christ, which pierced the darkness in the season of Advent and kept on growing until Christmas, now shines most brightly on Transfiguration Sunday. On Epiphany Sunday, together with the Magi we witness and worship the infant King; on Transfiguration Sunday, we gaze at the King in his maturity and glory. On the mountain of transfiguration, Jesus, the Light of the world, shines “as bright as a flash of lightning” (Luke 9:29).
While Jesus is shining, Moses and Elijah appear beside him and speak with him. Peter, James, and John, who climbed up the mountain with Jesus to pray but fell asleep, finally wake up and are completely amazed. “Let us build three tabernacles!” sputters Peter. Although Luke later writes that Peter had no idea what he was saying (Luke 9:33), he might have accidentally stumbled onto the truth. Dwelling in a tabernacle is what God did after God through Moses delivered the Israelites out of the bondage of Egypt and led them in the wilderness. This history is echoed in the incarnation. Dwelling in a tabernacle is what Jesus did at Christmas: The Word of God, who in the beginning was with God and who was God, became flesh and “tabernacled” with us (John 1:1, 14). On the mountain of transfiguration, we see Jesus, the Word made flesh, on full display.
Peter’s inadvertently prophetic suggestion is interrupted when a cloud darkens the mountaintop, and a voice speaks from heaven, “This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to him” (Luke 9:35). This voice is the same one that spoke when John the Baptist, the promised Elijah, baptized Jesus in the Jordan River. Heaven was torn up, and the voice came from above, “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased” (Luke 3:22). For this reason, many churches celebrate both the Baptism and the Transfiguration of Jesus in the Epiphany season. The Father’s voice echoes throughout the season to proclaim to all, “This is my beloved one. This is my chosen one. Listen to him.” The true Moses is here to deliver God’s people out of the bondage of sin. The true Elijah is here to vanquish the power of death and ascend to heaven in triumph. On the mountain of transfiguration, we see Jesus, undeniably the promised Messiah, the Son of God.
Transfiguration and Lent
The tie between Epiphany and the Transfiguration is strong. But how does the Transfiguration relate to Lent? A key to answering this is found in the topic of the conversation among Moses, Elijah, and Jesus. Luke tells us that the conversation was about Jesus’ “exodus,” which he would fulfill in Jerusalem (Luke 9:31, NRSV).
What does Luke mean by “exodus”? Jesus himself explains later in the chapter. Not long after the heavenly voice says “Listen to him!”, Jesus says to his disciples, “Let these words sink into your ears” (in other words, “listen up!”) “The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands” (Luke 9:44, NRSV). The conversation on the mountain seems to have made things clear to Jesus. Jerusalem is his destination, the cross his mission. There in the city, he would not only be betrayed into human hands, but also beaten, crucified, and buried by human hands. Since the conversation on the mountain, Jesus had “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51).
Thus began the exodus of Jesus, his journey in the wilderness, a journey from the mountaintop down to the grave, down to the valley of the shadow of death. The brightness of transfiguration casts a shadow, as glimpsed in Kate Bluett’s poem “No Tent for You on Tabor” (p. 6).
In many ways, the Transfiguration foreshadows the cross. Sylvia Dunstan’s lyrics to the hymn “Christus Paradox” highlight this relationship between Jesus’ transfiguration and his Passion: “Clothed in light upon the mountain, stripped of might upon the cross.” When we look deeper, we see even more rich parallelism.
On the mount of Transfiguration, Jesus prays, and his clothes turn dazzling white.
On the Mount of Olives, Jesus prays, and his sweat turns into crimson blood.
On both mountains, Peter, James, and John slumber.
On the mount of Transfiguration, Jesus shines in glory with Moses and Elijah.
On the hill named Golgotha, Jesus hangs on a cross of shame with two criminals.
At the Transfiguration, the cloud of God’s presence covers the mountaintop.
At the crucifixion, the cloud of God’s absence turns day into night.
At the Transfiguration, a voice from above thunders, “This is my Son.”
At the crucifixion, a voice from below echoes, “Surely this man was the Son of God.”
The brightness of the Transfiguration certainly belongs to Epiphany, but the shadow of the Transfiguration leads to Lent. That is why Transfiguration Sunday is a sharp turning point, a transitional day in our liturgical calendar. It is often the sixth and last Sunday of Epiphany, the final Sunday before Lent. A few days later, ashes are smeared on our foreheads in the shape of the cross.
If your church observes Epiphany as a liturgical season, consider celebrating Transfiguration Sunday on its sixth Sunday or perhaps even on the first Sunday of Lent. If your church does not observe Epiphany, you may still consider planning a service around the story of the Transfiguration sometime before Holy Week.
Begin your Transfiguration Sunday service with jubilant celebration, giving God the Father honor and thanks for leading us into light through Jesus, his Son. If your church has been using certain liturgical forms throughout the Epiphany season, keep them for this service as well.
But as the service progresses, direct the congregation’s attention toward the coming season of Lent, revealing how the glory of the Transfiguration makes Jesus turn his gaze toward Jerusalem and walk the road to suffering.
Then conclude your service with a Transfiguration hymn that invites or sends the congregation into the Lenten journey. The third stanza of the hymn “Christ, We Climb with You the Mountain” Stuempfle, LUYH 131 does exactly that.
Jesus, send us to the valley where the road through suffering leads.
There we meet your anguished people; there your world from violence bleeds.
Give us courage, when we falter, not to shrink from pain or loss.
Jesus, grant us, as we follow, strength to bear with you the cross.
The hymn “Swiftly Pass the Clouds of Glory” Troeger, LUYH 133
is especially insightful, vivid, and rich in meaning. The congregation may sing it with the well-known tune EBENEZER, which fits the text perfectly
In this way, your service on Transfiguration Sunday would resemble your Palm Sunday service, in which both jubilant celebration and somber remembrance deepen the meaning of the day.
Transfiguration and the Lenten Journey
The Transfiguration deepens the meaning of Lent. It reminds us that our Lenten journey is one from light into darkness. It is about dimming vision, disillusionment, and disappointment.
If we had thought we could see matters clearly, but now the darkness has deepened, our vision has dimmed, and we can no longer see or understand: We are on a Lenten journey.
If we had been on the spiritual mountaintop, yet what followed was a barren land, a spiritual wilderness: We are on a Lenten journey.
If we had thought we could overcome the desires of the flesh, yet after countless attempts we only find ourselves helplessly succumbing: We are on a Lenten journey.
If we are disillusioned and disappointed by the church: We are on a Lenten journey.
Like Peter, we wish to linger in glory. But glory in the heights soon vanishes.
The Transfiguration informs us that our Lenten journey is also a downward journey from the heights into the deep, from the mountain to the valley. It is about decline and decay. All around we see it: in our bodies, our churches, our world. Those who once were healthy and flourishing are now ailing and failing. When we grieve this decline and decay, we are on a Lenten journey.
In light of the Transfiguration, our Lenten journey is not something that begins and ends with each and every season of Lent. For many of us, it has already begun. For others, it will soon begin. The suffering from the power of death that we already bear in our lives is our Lenten journey. It is our life journey. The season of Lent is a designated time for us to acknowledge and rehearse this darkening, downward way. We learn the way of seeking, as Christ did, the glory that is found in the deep, rather than lingering in the glory that shines in the heights. Troeger’s hymn offers us this Transfiguration/Lent prayer:
Lord, transfigure our perception with the purest light that shines,
and recast our life’s intentions to the shape of your designs,
till we seek no other glory than what lies past Calvary’s hill
and our living and our dying and our rising by your will.
—from “Swiftly Pass the Clouds of Glory” (1985)
Lift Up Your Heart’s pairing of Transfiguration and Lenten Journey is peculiar. Other hymnals usually put the Transfiguration in a section about Jesus’ life and ministry or in the Ordinary Time after Epiphany. Yet Lift Up Your Heart’s pairing is also insightful and thought-provoking. The story of the Transfiguration deepens our understanding of the season of Lent. As Jesus set his face to Jerusalem, we too fix our eyes upon Jesus and follow him; we walk with him the long wilderness road of exodus: the Lenten journey.