This sermon was preached at Christ The King, Battyeford at their all-age “Family at 10” service.

Readings

Exodus 24.12–end – The Lord said to Moses, ‘Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there; and I will give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction.’ So Moses set out with his assistant Joshua, and Moses went up into the mountain of God. To the elders he had said, ‘Wait here for us, until we come to you again; for Aaron and Hur are with you; whoever has a dispute may go to them.’ Then Moses went up on the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. The glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days; on the seventh day he called to Moses out of the cloud. Now the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. Moses entered the cloud, and went up on the mountain. Moses was on the mountain for forty days and forty nights.

Matthew 17.1–9 – Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!’ When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Get up and do not be afraid.’ And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, ‘Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’

Sermon

I wonder if you can help me to think about the Transfiguration today.

Can anyone tell me about a time when something ordinary suddenly felt extraordinary?

It might have been a place you’ve been lots of times before — a beach, a hill, your own garden — but one day it just felt different. More special. More alive.

Because that’s something like what’s happening in our gospel reading today.

Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a mountain. Mountains in the Bible are often places where heaven and earth seem to come closer together — places where people meet God in unexpected ways.

At first, it probably felt like a normal climb. Dusty feet. Steep paths. Maybe a bit of grumbling. But then — suddenly — everything changes.

Jesus is transfigured before them. His face shines. His clothes become dazzling white. And then, as if that weren’t enough, Moses and Elijah appear, talking with him.

This is not just a nice moment. This is a glimpse behind the curtain. For a moment, the disciples see who Jesus really is — not just a teacher, not just a healer, but God’s beloved Son, full of glory.

And Peter does what many of us would do in a moment like that. He tries to hold onto it.

“Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will make three tents…”

Peter wants to stay on the mountain. He wants to freeze the moment. He wants to build something solid so this feeling never goes away.

I wonder — does that sound familiar?

How many of us have had moments we wish we could stay in forever?
A holiday. A celebration. A sense that everything is finally right.

If you could press pause on one really good moment in your life, what might it be?

Peter’s instinct makes sense. But while he’s still speaking, a cloud overshadows them, and a voice says:

“This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.”

And the disciples fall to the ground, afraid.

Then Jesus does something very gentle. He comes to them. He touches them. And he says, “Get up and do not be afraid.”

And when they look up — it’s just Jesus. No Moses. No Elijah. No shining cloud.

And then comes the most important part of the story.

They go down the mountain.

Because the mountain is not where the story ends.

This Sunday — the Sunday next before Lent — always stands at a turning point in the church year. We’re given this dazzling, glorious moment just before we begin the quieter, harder journey of Lent.

The disciples don’t yet know what lies ahead. But Jesus does. He knows that the road from this mountain leads eventually to Jerusalem, to suffering, to the cross.

And that’s why they can’t stay where they are.

The mountain is for seeing clearly.
But the valley is where the work happens.

This is really important for us, especially in a church that brings people of all ages and backgrounds together.

Because faith isn’t just about special moments — the songs we love, the festivals, the sense that God feels close. Those moments matter. They strengthen us. They remind us who Jesus is.

But faith is also about Monday mornings. About school and work and caring and worrying and forgiving and trying again.

Jesus doesn’t say, “Build tents and stay here.”
He says, “Listen to me.”
And then he leads them back down the mountain.

Lent is a bit like that journey down.

Over the coming weeks, we’ll be invited to listen more carefully to Jesus. To walk with him. To notice where God is at work not just in the shining moments, but in the ordinary ones too.

And here’s the really good news.

The glory the disciples see on the mountain doesn’t disappear. It goes with Jesus — even when it’s hidden. Even on the cross. Even in the darkest places.

Which means it goes with us too.

So let me finish with a question — and this one really is for everyone, whatever your age.

As we begin the journey towards Lent:
Where might Jesus be inviting you to listen more closely to him?
And where might he be asking you to follow him — not staying where it’s comfortable, but trusting him on the way down the mountain?

Because the same Jesus who shines with glory is the one who comes close, touches us, and says:

“Get up. Do not be afraid.”

Amen.