THE TRANSFIGURATION

Friday, August 7, 2026 (tr. from August 6)

Sts. Matthew & Mark, Barrington, R. I.

 

What I find fascinating about the Transfiguration is that it’s wonderfully ambiguous. Clearly, something is happening; but is it happening to our Lord, on one hand, or to Peter, James, and John, on the other? In other words, when Jesus shines with the light of divine glory, is it that he’s being changed in some way; or is the real change taking place in the disciples’ perception of him?

Now, I’m not suggesting for one moment that the disciples are hallucinating or seeing things. Rather, an ancient tradition of interpretation of the Transfiguration suggests that the three disciples momentarily see Jesus as he really is, in his divine nature. Jesus hasn’t changed. But for this short time, the disciples truly see him. They’re granted a glimpse of the divine glory that is always his but is normally veiled from their sight.

Similarly, in the Christian life, from time to time we experience moments of Transfiguration: moments when the veil of everyday appearances is temporarily lifted, and we see divine realities as they truly are. This can happen anywhere at any time. But the place where it’s more prone to happen than anywhere else is here, in the divine liturgy, in the celebration of the Sacraments.

Consider the utter simplicity of what we do here. The essence of what happens in the Eucharist is the same, whether performed in a great cathedral thronged with vast crowds, a simple country church, a prison chapel, or the hospital bedside of a dying patient. At the heart of it all is the taking, blessing, breaking, and sharing of bread and wine. What could be more ordinary and mundane? And yet, we know by faith that it’s so much more than that—if only we had eyes to see!

But just sometimes—not always, not even most of the time, but just sometimes—the veil is momentarily lifted, and we perceive the divine glory present in our midst. These moments of Transfiguration strengthen our faith and give us perseverance to keep on—attending the liturgy, saying our prayers, and receiving the Sacraments even when we can see no further than the surface appearances.

Our Friday Eucharists are very simple. But their simplicity reminds us that what is truly central to our worship is neither liturgical music nor ceremonial choreography—both of which I love—but the faithful proclamation of the Gospel and the right administration of the Sacraments. We come here, day by day, week by week, to meet Jesus. We encounter him in his Word, in his Sacraments, and in the faces of his People. And sometimes, just sometimes, we catch a glimpse of his divine glory.