Immediately after the story of the Transfiguration, the three Synoptic Gospels tell the story of the healing of an epileptic boy. Jesus comes down from the mountain with Peter, James, and John. They see a man break away from the crowd, running to him and asking him for help. My son, my only child—he says—”when the evil spirit seizes him, he suddenly screams. The spirit throws him into a fit, and he foams at the mouth, wearing him out. I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not” (Lk 9:38-40).

Jesus had given them “power and authority to drive out all evil spirits and heal diseases” (Lk 9:1). Why were they not able to carry out their mission?

The reason is soon found: because they have not been on the mountain with the Master. Those who have not seen his glorious face cannot effectively fight the forces of evil that afflict humanity.

Tradition places the transfiguration of Jesus on Mount Tabor, a mountain that rises, isolated, in the middle of the fertile plain of Esdraelon. Covered with holm oak, carobs, and pine trees since ancient times, it was called the holy mountain, and on top, cults to the pagan gods were offered. Today the place invites meditation and prayer. There it is natural to raise our gaze to the sky and our thought to God.

No matter how impressive this experience is, it should be noted that the Gospel does not speak of Tabor but a high mountain. In biblical language, the mountain does not indicate a material place but the inner experience of a manifestation of God when the intimacy with the Lord culminates. Resorting to the language of the mystics, we could call it the spiritual condition of the soul that feels dissolved in God, reaching almost to identify with his thoughts and feelings.

Jesus leaves the plain and leads some disciples to the heights; he moves them away from human reasoning and calculations to introduce them into the inscrutable designs of the Father. He makes them go up to bring them back then, transformed, to the land where they are called to work.

The ones who truly love humanity and want to engage in the construction of the kingdom of God in the world must first raise their eyes to heaven, tune their thoughts and projects with those of the Lord. They must above all have ‘seen’ the one who makes life a gift, not in the dark vestment of the loser, but wrapped in dazzling and glorious light.

On the ‘mountain,’ Jesus looks different from how people judged him. There he experiences a metamorphosis: his disfigured face is transfigured, the darkness of failure illuminates, the worn-out suit of the servant turns into a beautiful royal robe, the darkness of death dissolves in the dawn of Easter.

• To internalize the message, we will repeat:

“Lord, grant us to contemplate the face of the transfigured Christ

in the disfigured face of people.”

First reading: Daniel 7:9-10,13-14 

The chapter from which the reading is taken opens with a dramatic night vision. Daniel sees emerging from the ocean—it was the symbol of the hostile world and chaos in the ancient Middle East—four huge beasts: a lion, a bear, a leopard and a fourth terrible beast, fearful, by the exceptional strength, capable of crushing everything with its iron teeth (Dn 7:2-8).

The language and images are apocalyptic. References and allusions to the history of the peoples who are symbolized are not difficult to decode because it is the same prophet in the sequel of the story, which clarifies their meaning (Dn 7:17-27). The fierce animals are the four great empires that have taken place in the world and oppressed the people of God.

The lion indicates the bloody reign of Babylon, the damned one, the cruel city that destroyed Jerusalem and its temple; the bear is the people of Mede, greedy and always ready to attack; the leopard with four heads is the symbol of Persian peering in every direction on the prey; the fourth beast, the scariest, depicts the reign of Alexander the Great and his successors, the Diadochi or the six Macedonian generals.

Of these, one is particularly sinister, Antiochus IV, the persecutor of the saints faithful to the law of God. He holds power in the time in which the book of Daniel was redacted. In history, reigns, which were cruel and merciless with the weak, have always succeeded. They were empires that violated peoples’ rights, imposed violence and abuse of power, and behaved like wild beasts.

Will the world always be a victim of arrogant rulers whose god is their force? Will the Lord be indifferent to the oppression of his people? These are the distressing questions that Daniel, in the name of God, wants to answer. The great scene from the first part of our reading is introduced (vv. 9-12).

Thrones are placed in heaven. An old man—representing the Lord himself—is seated for judgment and pronounces the sentence: the beasts are deprived of power, and the last one is killed, torn into pieces, and thrown into the fire (Dn 7:9-12). Then what happens? The seer continues to report his revelation: “I continued watching the nocturnal vision. One like a son of man came on the clouds of heaven. He faced the One of Great Age. Dominion, honor and kingship were given him.”

‘Son of Man’ is a Hebrew expression that simply means man. People driven by animal instincts have always managed the world; now no more, one is coming, one with a human heart. Who is this character? He does not come from the sea as the four monsters, but from heaven, that is from God.

The author of the Book of Daniel was not thinking of an individual; he was referring to Israel that, after the great tribulation endured under Antiochus IV, would have received from God an everlasting kingdom that would never set. All the people would be subjugated to him without being oppressed because their king would have had a man’s heart.

With this prophecy, written during the persecution of the wicked Antiochus IV (167-164 B.C.), the author wanted to infuse courage and hope in his people. Oppression—he assured—was coming to an end; still, a few years and God would hand Israel the domination of the world.

When is this prophecy fulfilled? After two or three years, Israel managed to gain political independence, and many felt that it was finally the reign of the ‘son of man’ promised by Daniel. The facts, unfortunately, belied these expectations. The Maccabees—heroic leaders of the Jewish resistance—conquered the throne, soon forgot the covenant with the Lord, and turned into oppressors. They continued to recite the script of the beasts: family feuds, intrigues for power, cruelty, refined court life, religious and moral corruption.

Now we know it, prophecy is not fulfilled with them, but with the advent of Jesus, the ‘son of man’ who began the reign of the saints of the Most High (Mk 14:62). He has staged new actors to recite the ancient script. He changed the script, has introduced a new policy, opposite to what, in every age, has given rise to realms of wild animals: no more climbing to dominate but going down to receive orders; not the enslavement of the weak, but the service rendered to the weak.

His reign did not start with a victory but in defeat. The political powers, economic and religious of his time have coalesced to eliminate him, and they killed him, sure that they had ended his proposal. Instead, his defeat marked the beginning of the new world. Having a divine power, this kingdom of the Son of man, despite the angry opposition that he will always have to deal with, is intended to expand itself and to take possession of all hearts. It will be “like the dawn that becomes brighter until the fullness of day” (Pro 4:18).

Second reading: 2 Peter 1:16-19

The early Christians—and Paul himself—were convinced that the Lord would soon manifest himself in his glory and introduce his faithful in his kingdom. However, towards the end of the first century A.D., a delusion began to spread among the disciples for the Lord’s failure to come. At the same time, the unbelievers mockingly asked: “What has become of the coming of this promise? Since our fathers in faith died, everything still goes on as it was from the beginning of the world” (2 P 3:4).

To undermine the disciples’ faith, some skeptics spread even the suspicion that the prophecy of the coming of the Lord was nothing but a myth developed by clever people to control naive and gullible people.

A disciple of Peter answers to these malevolent insinuations. Writing in the name of the master, he contends, as irrefutable evidence of the truth of the message announced, the personal experience of Peter ‘on the holy mountain’ and the testimony given by the apostles who ‘saw’ the greatness of the Lord Jesus. Wrapped in the glory of a divine epiphany, they have ‘heard’ the voice of Heaven: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

It was not an invented fairy tale. It was a revelation received by those who have lived with Jesus of Nazareth. They, illuminated from above, have contemplated his bright and glorious face.

He continues: we are like sentinels who keep watch at night and stare at the horizon, anxiously waiting for the bright “morning star” (Rev 2:28; 22:16), the bearer of a new day, to appear.

In anticipation of this joyous sunrise, the faces of believers are enlightened, and their steps guided by a lamp shining in a world still shrouded in dense darkness. The lamp is the word of God transmitted by the sacred Scriptures (v. 19).

Year A – Gospel: Matthew 17:1-9

This passage is sometimes interpreted as a brief preview of the experience of paradise, granted by Jesus to a group of friends to prepare them to endure the ordeal of his passion and death.

There is a need for caution when approaching a gospel text because of what, at first glance, seems to be a chronicle of facts, while at a closer look, it often reveals a theology drawn up according to the canons of biblical language. The account of the Transfiguration of Jesus reported almost identically by Mark and Luke is an example.

Today, Matthew’s version is proposed to us. It opens with a seemingly irrelevant entry: “After six days.” After what? It is not said, but the reference seems to be the most likely debate about the identity of Jesus that occurred in the region of Caesarea Philippi (Mt 16:13-20). One even wonders why he takes with him only three disciples and why he goes up on a mountain.

Let’s start with this last detail. This is a curious fact, especially in Matthew’s Gospel. Jesus, when he does or says something important, goes up a mountain: The Last Temptation takes place on the Mount (Mt 4:8); the beatitudes are spoken on the Mount (Mt 5:1); he multiplied the loaves on the Mount (Mt 15:29) and, at the end of the Gospel, when the disciples encounter the risen Christ and are sent into the world, they were “on the mountain that had been indicated to them” (Mt 27:16).

Just scroll through the Old Testament to find out the reason for such insistence. The mountain, in the Bible—as indeed, among all peoples of antiquity—was the site of encounter with God. On the mountain, Moses received his manifestation of God and received the revelation that later was passed on to the people. It was also at the top of Horeb that Elijah met the Lord.

There’s more. If we read Exodus 24, we find that of Moses it was said, “after six days” (Ex 24:16), he did not go alone, but took Aaron, Nadab and Abihu with him (Ex 24:1,9), and was enveloped in a cloud. On the mountain, even his face was transfigured by the splendor of God’s glory (Ex 34:30).

In light of these texts, the aim of the evangelist is clear. He intends to present Jesus as the new Moses, who delivers the new law to the new people, represented by the three disciples. Jesus is the definitive revelation of God.

The shining face and bright robes (v. 2). These are also frequent occurrences in the Bible. The Lord is “covered with majesty and splendor, wrapped in light as with a garment,” says the Psalmist (Ps 104:1-2). They are images that affirm the presence of God in the person of Jesus.

The meaning of the luminous cloud that envelops all with its shadow is identical (v. 5). The book of Exodus speaks of a luminous cloud that protected the people of Israel in the desert (Exodus 13:21), a sign of God’s presence that accompanied his people along the way. When Moses received the law, the mountain was enveloped by a cloud (Ex 24:15-16). He also came down with a shining face (Ex 39:29-35). Cloud and shining face are, therefore, a reflection of God’s presence.

Using these images, Matthew says that Peter, James and John, in a particularly significant moment of their lives, have been introduced to the world of God and have enjoyed an enlightenment that gave them an understanding of the true identity of the Master and the destination of his journey. He would not be the glorious Messiah they expected, but a Messiah who, after a severe conflict with the religious power, would be opposed, persecuted, and killed. They also realized that their fate would be no different from that of the Master. The voice from heaven (v. 5) is a literary expression frequently used by the rabbis to end a lengthy discussion on a theme and present the thinking of God.

The topic discussed in the previous chapter (Mt 16) concerned the identity of Jesus. The Master himself had opened the debate with the question: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” (Mt 16:13). After presenting the various opinions, the apostles, through the mouth of Peter, expressed their conviction that he is the long-awaited messiah. The voice from the sky now declares the thought of God: ‘Jesus is the beloved,’ the faithful servant of whom God is well pleased (Is 42:1).

This ‘voice’ that declares the same words had already been heard at baptism. “This is my beloved Son” (Mt 3:17). Now an exhortation is added: “Listen to him.” Listen to him, even when he seems to propose too demanding a path, indicate the narrow and steep way, paradoxical or humanly absurd choices.

In the Bible, the word ‘to listen’ does not just mean ‘to hear’ but is often equivalent to the verb ‘to obey’ (Ex 6:12; Mt 18:15-16). The Father’s recommendation to Peter, James and John, and through them to all the disciples, is ‘to put into practice’ what Jesus teaches. It is the invitation to focus life on the proposal of the beatitude.

Who are Moses and Elijah? The first is the one who gave the Law to his people; the other is considered the first of the prophets. For the Israelites, these two characters represented the Holy Scriptures.

All the holy books of Israel are meant to lead to a dialogue with Jesus; they are oriented toward him. Without him, the Old Testament is incomprehensible, but also Jesus, without the Old Testament, remains a mystery. On Easter day, to make the meaning of his death and resurrection clear to his disciples, he will again resort to the Old Testament: “Beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he explained to them everything in the Scriptures concerning himself” (Lk 24:27).

The meaning of the image of the three tents is not easy to determine. Indeed, they refer to the path of the exodus. Here, they indicate, perhaps, Peter’s desire to stop and perpetuate the joy experienced in a moment of spiritual intimacy with the Master. Whoever builds a tent wants to fix his abode in one place and not move, at least for a time. Jesus, instead, is always on the move. He goes directly to a destination, and the disciples must follow him.

Our own spiritual experience can help us to understand. After having spoken at length with God, we are not willing to go back to everyday life: the problems, social conflicts, and family disagreements, the dramas we must confront frighten us, yet we know that listening to the Word of God is not everything. We cannot spend our lives in the church or the oasis of spiritual retreats. It is necessary to meet and serve the brothers and sisters, help those who suffer, and be close to anyone in need of love. After discovering how to go in prayer, we must throw ourselves into following Jesus, who goes up to Jerusalem to offer his life.

Let us summarize the scene’s meaning: the whole Old Testament (Moses and Elijah) receives direction from Jesus. Peter does not understand the meaning of what is happening. Although in words he proclaims Jesus as “the Christ” (Mt 16:16), he remains profoundly convinced that he is just a great character, a man at the level of Moses and Elijah; for this, he suggests that three equal tents be built.

God intervenes to correct the false interpretation of Peter: Jesus is not just a great legislator or a mere prophet; he is the ‘beloved Son’ of the Father.

The three characters cannot continue to be together any longer. Jesus stands out clearly from the others and is absolutely superior. Israel had listened to the voice of the Lord, which Moses and the prophets had transmitted. Now this voice—Peter says—comes to people through Christ. It is he and him alone that the disciples should listen to. It is noted that, when the three look up, they see no others but Jesus. Moses and Elijah are gone; they have already accomplished their mission: they have presented the Messiah, the new prophet, the new lawgiver to the world.

The promise made to the people by Moses before his death is surprisingly realized: “The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like myself from among the people, from your brothers, to whom you shall listen” (Deut 18:15).

YEAR B – Gospel: Mark 9:2-10 

Every year, on the second Sunday of Lent, the Transfiguration of the Lord is proposed to us. The message of this passage is neither clear nor easy to grasp at first glance because it is conveyed to us in a language full of symbolic images that require explanation. The scene is set in a secluded place, on a high mountain, where Jesus has climbed with three of his disciples (v. 2), the same ones who will witness his agony in Gethsemane (cf. Mk 14:33). Mark underlines the fact that they are alone.

Jesus behaves like the rabbis who, when they wanted to reveal their secret or transmit a truly important teaching, withdrew with their disciples to a solitary place, far from prying ears, to avoid being overheard by those who were not capable of understanding or who might have misunderstood what they heard.

Nor on Mount Sinai had the Word of God been addressed directly to all the people. Moses had gone up to God, the first time, alone (cf. Ex 19:2ff); then he had taken three people with him: Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu (cf. Ex 24:1). The place of the Lord’s manifestations was not accessible to all: to approach it, special dispositions and great holiness were necessary. The fact that Jesus reserved the revelation to some disciples and that, in the end, he recommended them not to divulge it indicates that he made them sharers in a very significant experience but still too elevated to be understood by all. 

The revelation occurred on a high mountain (v. 2) that Christian tradition has identified as Tabor, the mountain covered with pines, oaks, and terebinths that rise, solitary, in the center of the vast plain of Esdraelon. Since ancient times, there was an altar on the summit where sacrifices were offered to pagan divinities. Today the place is an invitation to recollection, reflection, and prayer. Pilgrims who visit it feel almost naturally impelled to raise their eyes to heaven and their thoughts to God.

As suggestive as this experience may seem, it should be remembered that the Gospel text does not speak of Tabor but of “a high mountain” and this expression has clear biblical resonances. The mountain in the Bible is where the manifestations of the Lord and the great encounters of man with God take place. Moses (cf. Ex 24:15ff) and Elijah (1 Kgs 19:8), the same characters who appear during the Transfiguration, received their revelations on a mountain. More than a material place, the mountain indicates the moment when intimacy with God reaches its climax. It is about that sublime experience that the mystics call the union of the soul with God, in which the person, dissolving almost in his Lord, feels that he identifies himself with the divine thoughts, feelings, words, and actions.

Jesus moves away from the plain where men allow themselves to be led by principles that often go against those of God and leads some disciples on high; he wants them to be alien to the reasoning and convictions of men, to introduce them into the innermost thoughts of the Father, in his inscrutable designs about the Messiah. Luke is even more explicit when he refers to the theme of Jesus’ dialogue with Moses and Elijah. He affirms that these, appearing in his glory, spoke with him about the gift of life; that Jesus was there to offer (cf. Lk 9:31). This is the disconcerting revelation that some disciples, not all, received from heaven that day.

The white garments (v. 3) outwardly manifest the identity of Jesus. White symbolizedGod’s world, the sign of festivity and joy. It was said that in the kingdom of God, the elect would wear white garments emitting sparkles like sun rays. The image is taken up again in the Apocalypse: in the eyes of the seer, the elect appears in heaven wearing “white robes” (cf. Rev 7:13).

Moses and Elijah are two famous figures in the history of Israel. The former is the mediator God used to liberate his people and give them the Torah, the Law. He is introduced into the scene of the Transfiguration to testify that Jesus is the Prophet, announced by him when, before his death, he promised the Israelites: “The Lord your God will raise for you a prophet like me, he will raise him from among you, from among your brothers, and it is he whom you will listen to” (Deut 18:15).

The invitation to listen to him at the end of the story confirms this. Elijah, in turn, is the first of the prophets, who was caught up to heaven (cf. 2 Kings 2:11-12) and thought to return before the coming of the Messiah. In the scene of the Transfiguration, he also enters as a witness: he declares, in the name of all the prophets, that Jesus is the awaited Messiah.

Also, the tents (v. 5) that Peter wants to build have a symbolic meaning. At the end of the year, at the end of the harvest season, the Feast of Tents was celebrated in Israel, which lasted a whole week. They were built to remember the years spent in the wilderness, to recall the works of the Lord in the past. It was a feast, however, that invited us to look to the future. The prophet Zechariah had announced that, at the coming of the Messiah, all peoples would gather in Jerusalem to celebrate together the Feast of Tents (cf. Zech 14:16-19). Referring to this oracle, the rabbis described the time of the Messiah as a perennial Feast of Tents.

By asking to build three tents, Peter refers to this symbolic meaning. He is convinced that the kingdom of God has arrived, the time of rest and the perennial feast announced by the prophets; he has not understood the true meaning of the scene he is witnessing. He continues to cultivate the illusion that it is possible to enter the kingdom of heaven without having passed through the gift of one’s own life. Mark notes, “They did not know what they were saying because they were filled with fear” (v. 6). 

Fear does not indicate fear in the face of danger; it is difficult to imagine the disciplesecstatic with joy (v. 5) and, at the same time, paralyzed with terror (v. 6). When the Bible speaks of terror before a manifestation of the Lord, it refers to the wonder, to the stupor that envelops those who come into contact with the world of God.

The cloud and the shadow are images that appear frequently in the Old Testament and indicate God’s presence. The Lord manifests himself to Moses in “a thick cloud” (cf. Ex 19:9). A cloud accompanies the Israelites through the desert (cf. Ex 40:34-39) and covers the tent where Moses meets the Lord (cf. Ex 33:9-11). It is a sign of God’s presence. At the end of the scene of the Transfiguration, a voice emerges from the cloud: this is the interpretation God gives to the whole episode (v. 7). 

After explaining the various symbols, let us synthesize the message that the extraordinary experience of the apostles wants to communicate to us. The story of the Transfiguration occupies precisely the center of Mark’s Gospel. From the beginning, the disciples had been wondering about the identity of Jesus (cf. Mk 1:27; 4:41; 6:2-3), and, at a certain point, they began to sense that he was the Messiah. Still, however, they did not have clear ideas. They shared the widespread opinion that the Messiah would be a king capable of establishing the kingdom of God on earth prodigiously and immediately. 

This conviction is clear from the words of Peter, who wants to build three tents: he thinks that the kingdom of God has arrived and that, to participate in it, it is not necessary to pass through death. At a particularly significant moment in their lives, the three privileged disciples were introduced by Jesus into the thoughts of God; they enjoyed an illumination that made them understand the true identity of the Master and the goal of their journey: he would not be the glorious king they were expecting, but an outraged, persecuted and crucified Messiah. Nevertheless, his ultimate destiny would not be the tomb but the fullness of life.

The Transfiguration was an extraordinary spiritual experience in which Jesus tried to convince them that only he who gives his life out of love realizes it fully. It is impossible to enter the kingdom of God through shortcuts as Peter would have wanted. Every disciple must accept with courage the Master’s willingness to give his life. Was the experience on the mountain sufficient for the three disciples to assimilate this truth?

The concluding remark of the evangelist: “They fulfilled that commission but wondered what it meant to rise from the dead,” lets us understand that they came out of the revelation received only disturbed, not convinced. They could not understand that, in Jesus, who was about to give his life, God was revealing all his glory, all his Love for humanity. Only the light of Easter and their experiences with the Risen One would open their eyes wide. 

YEAR C – Gospel: Luke 9:28b-36

Some have interpreted this passage as a brief anticipation of the experience of paradise, granted by Jesus to a restricted number of friends to prepare them to endure the ordeal of his Passion and death. One must always be very attentive when approaching a Gospel text because what at first glance appears to be a chronicle of an event can, upon closer examination, reveal itself to be a dense theological text written according to the canons of biblical language. The transfiguration account, reported almost identically by Matthew, Mark,and Luke, is an illuminating example.

Today we will dwell on some significant details only found in Luke’s version. Only this evangelist specifies why Jesus goes up the mountain: “to pray” (v. 28). Jesus used to devote much time to prayer. He did not know from the beginning how his life would develop; he did not know the destiny that awaited him; he gradually discovered it through the illuminations he received during prayer.

It is in one of those particularly intense moments that Jesus realizes that he has been called to save men not through triumph but through defeat. Towards the middle of his Gospel, Luke reveals the first signs of failure: the crowds, at first enthusiastic, abandon Jesus; some take him for a holy one, as a subversive; his enemies begin to plot his death. It is understandable, then, that he should question himself about the path the Father wants him to follow. For this reason, “he went up a mountain to pray.”

During prayer, his face “changed its countenance” (v. 29). This splendor is a sign of the glory that envelops the one who is united to God. Moses’ face also shone when he entered into dialogue with the Lord (cf. Ex 34:29-35). Every authentic encounter with God leaves a visible mark on the human face. After an intensely lived celebration of the Word, we all return home happier, more serene, kind, smiling, and disposed to be tolerant, understanding, and generous; we leave with more relaxed faces that reflect an inner light. 

The light on Jesus’ face indicates that, during prayer, he understood and made his own Father’s plan; he understood that his sacrifice would not end in defeat but in the glory of the Resurrection. 

During Jesus’ spiritual experience, two characters appear, Moses and Elijah (vv. 30-31). They symbolize the Law and the Prophets and represent the Old Testament. All the sacred books of Israel are intended to lead us to dialogue with Jesus; they are oriented toward Him. Without Jesus, the Old Testament is incomprehensible, but also Jesus, without the Old Testament, is a mystery. On Easter Day, to make his disciples understand the meaning of his death and Resurrection, Jesus will have recourse to the Old Testament: “Beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he explained to them what all the Scriptures had to say about him” (Lk 24:27).

Mark and Matthew also introduce Moses and Elijah, but only Luke recalls the theme of their dialogue with Jesus: “They spoke of their exodus,” that is, of the passage from this world to the Father. The light that revealed his mission to Jesus came from the Word of God in the Old Testament. There, he discovered that the Messiah was not destined to triumph but to defeat; he had to suffer much, to be humiliated, to be rejected by men, as is said of the Servant of the Lord (cf. Is 53).

The three disciples, Peter, James, and John, do not understand what is happening (vv. 32-33). They are overcome by sleep. Although some may have done so, it is challenging to think that the disciples fell asleep because of the tiring climb up the mountain or because the scene occurred at night (v. 37). The context does not require it. 

Let us notice a detail: in the Gospel passages that reference Jesus’s Passion and death, these three disciples are always victims of sleep. Even in the Garden of Olives, they let themselves be overcome by sleep (cf. Mk 14:32-42; Lk 22:45). It is strange that always at crucial moments, they feel that irresistible need to sleep.

Biblical authors frequently use sleep in a symbolic sense. Paul, for example, writes to the Romans: “It is high time to awake from sleep…the night is far spent, the day is at hand” (Rom 13:11-12). With this urgent appeal, the Apostle wants to shake Christians out of their spiritual slumber, inviting them to open their minds to understand and assimilate the moral proposal of the Gospel.

In our story, the dream indicates the inability of the disciples to understand and accept that the Messiah of God must pass through death to enter into his glory. The three apostles are wide awake when Jesus performs wonders when the crowd acclaims him. Still, whenJesus begins to speak of the gift of life, the need to occupy the last place, to become servants, they do not want to understand; they slowly close their eyes and fall asleep…to continue dreaming of applause and triumph.

The three tents are the most challenging detail to explain (even the evangelist notes that not even Peter, who is the one who spoke, knew what he was saying). Whoever builds a tent or hut in a place does so to stay there, at least for a while. Jesus, on the contrary, is always on the way: he must make an ‘exodus’ – today’s Gospel says – and the disciples are invited to follow him. The three tents perhaps indicate Peter’s desire to stay to perpetuate the joy experienced in intense prayer with the Master.

To understand this better, we can draw on our own experience: after a long dialogue with the Lord, it is difficult for us to return to ordinary life. The concrete problems and dramas we have to face frighten us. We know, however, that listening to the Word of God is not everything. One cannot spend one’s whole life in the Church or a retreat house; it is necessary to go out to meet and serve one’s brothers and sisters, to help those who suffer, and to draw close to those who need love. After discovering the path to follow in prayer, we must set out to walk with Jesus, who goes up to Jerusalem to give his life. 

The cloud (v. 34), mainly when it rests on the top of a mountain, indicates, according to biblical language, the invisible presence of God. Reference to the cloud is frequent in the Old Testament, especially in Exodus: Moses enters the cloud that covers the mountain (cf. Exodus 24:15-18), the cloud descends on the tent of meeting, and Moses cannot enter because the Lord is present in it (cf. Exodus 40:34).

Peter, James, and John are introduced into the world of God, and there they receive the illumination that will make them understand the way of the Master: the conflict with the religious power, the persecution, the Passion, and death. They sense at the same time that this will also be their destiny… and they are afraid. A voice comes out of the cloud (v. 35): it is God’s interpretation of everything that will happen to Jesus. For men, he will be defeated; forthe Father, he will be the ‘chosen one,’ the Faithful Servant in whom he is pleased. Pleasing to the Lord is he who follows in the footsteps of this Faithful Servant. “Listen to him,” – says the voice from heaven – even when he seems to propose paths that are too difficult, too narrow, paradoxical, and humanly absurd choices. 

At the end of the episode (v. 36), Jesus is left alone. Moses and Elijah disappear. This detail indicates the function of the Old Testament: to bring Jesus, to make Jesus understood. In the end, all eyes must be fixed on him alone. 

It is not easy to believe in Jesus’s revelation and accept his proposal of life. It is not easy to follow him in his ‘exodus.’ Trusting Him is very risky: He promises a future glory, but what man experiences here and now is renunciation, the gratuitous gift of self. The seed cast into the ground is destined to produce much fruit, but today, what awaits it is death. When and how can this wisdom of God, so contrary to man’s logic, be assimilated?

The answer is given in the extra detail with which today’s Gospel begins. The episode of the Transfiguration is placed by Luke “eight days after Jesus had made the dramatic announcement of his Passion, death, and Resurrection, “eight days after” he had presented the conditions for those who want to follow him: “deny yourself, take up your cross daily” (Lk 9:22-27). 

For Christians, the eighth day has a precise meaning: it is the day after the Sabbath, the Lord’s Day, the day on which the community gathers to hear the Word and break the Bread (cf. Lk 24:13). And this is what Luke means by the reference to the eighth day: every Sunday, the disciples who gather to celebrate the Eucharist go up “the mountain,” see the transfigured face of the Lord, that is, the Risen Lord, understand in faith that their “exodus” has not ended with death, and hear once again the voice from heaven that invites them: “Listen to him!

After coming down from the mountain, Peter, James, and John “kept silent and told no one what they had seen” (v. 27). They could not speak of what they had not understood: Jesus’ departure had not yet been fulfilled. We today, going out from our churches, can, on the contrary, announce to everyone what faith has made us understand: he who gives his life for love enters into the glory of God.