This week, we can ask ourselves what we have to give up to be more available to those transfigured moments
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
The theologian and spiritual writer Father Jean Corbon (the principal drafter of the Catechism of the Catholic Church’s treatment of prayer) had an interesting thesis about the Transfiguration: He said that it was the literary and theological center of the Gospels.
Now, I don’t think that’s right! The passion, death and resurrection of Jesus are the literary and theological center of the Gospels.
But what Father Corbon meant was this: In the Transfiguration, the hidden truth about Jesus — His divine nature — shines forth in a way that becomes visible to others, and that same thing is happening, though in more subtle ways, through every chapter of every Gospel. Understood that way, he’s got a point!
I mention Father Corbon’s idea both because we celebrate the Transfiguration on Aug. 6 and because the Transfiguration can provide a pattern for our growth in discipleship.
According to the Church’s theological tradition, Jesus doesn’t change during the Transfiguration. Rather, what is always already true about Him — that He is divine, that He is in constant conversation with the law (represented by Moses) and the prophets (represented by Elijah) — becomes, for a moment, visible to His followers. He’s not changed; they are. For a moment, the veil is removed and they have eyes to see what’s actually been in front of them the whole time.
In some way, that’s what we see in the terrific lineup of saints we celebrate these weeks: Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits; Alphonsus Liguori, founder of the Redemptorists; John Vianney, patron of parish priests; Dominic Guzman, founder of the Dominicans; Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, convert, Carmelite and martyr of the concentration camps. Think of each of them as a “transfiguration” of humanity. In their lives, the veil is lifted: We can see, for a moment, what human nature is capable of when the life of Christ becomes the deepest truth of our lives. That deep truth shines forth in them.
But it’s not just the saints. I think we all have “transfiguration moments” in our own lives. We find ourselves peaceful and trusting in God even in the midst of trials, patient even when faced with difficult people or clear and gentle when correction needs to be offered. These are moments when the power of Jesus flows into our lives and through our lives to others. Then, for a moment, the veil is lifted for us, too. The deepest meaning of our lives — what our lives could be and were meant to be — shines forth. Contact with Jesus transfigures us.
Then we come back down the mountain and ordinary, fallen life resumes!
The transfigured life is offered to us by God. We have glimpses of it, both in ourselves and in others. What does it take to live that transfigured life more often, more easily and more deeply? What do we have to do (like pray more often), or what do we have to give up (like “doom-scrolling” on the internet) to make our lives more available to those transfigured moments? That’s how the gift of God’s grace and the discipline of discipleship come together.
Let’s ponder that coming together of grace and discipline. Let’s help each other live into the mystery of the Transfiguration more deeply.
