Sermon Text: Matthew 17:1-9
Date: February 15, 2026
Event: The Transfiguration of Our Lord, Year A

Matthew 17:1-9 (EHV)

Six days later Jesus took with him Peter, James, and John the brother of James; and he led them up onto a high mountain by themselves. 2There he was transfigured in front of them. His face was shining like the sun. His clothing became as white as the light. 3Just then, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, talking with Jesus.

4Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you want, I will make three shelters here: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

5While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them. Just then, a voice came out of the cloud, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him.”

6When the disciples heard this, they fell face down and were terrified. 7Jesus approached and as he touched them, he said, “Get up, and do not be afraid.” 8When they opened their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus alone. 9As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus commanded them, “Do not tell anyone what you have seen until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.”

Look at Who Jesus Is!

The entire Epiphany season is about revelation, about learning things we couldn’t have known unless they were shown to us. We saw hints about who Jesus is in the confession of the Wise Men and the flurry of activity at his baptism. His miracles clearly pointed to his power as God, and over the last two weeks, we’ve seen how who Jesus is changes who we are. We can be gentle, yet inherit the earth; we have become the light of the world and the salt of the earth because Jesus has given us those preserving qualities for the world around us.

But this revelation of who Jesus is is not just an academic exercise. We don’t study Jesus like we study a plant to better understand how its systems work. We’ve not been just trying to get some kind of dogmatic bullet points to accurately define Jesus’ nature. Who Jesus is has ramifications for today and beyond, and here at his Transfiguration, we see that more clearly than almost anywhere else in Scripture.

Perhaps we should start with a definition, as “transfiguration” is not a term we use regularly or perhaps even hear outside a church context. The word “transfiguration” is rooted in Latin and is essentially the same word as “metamorphosis,” which is rooted in Greek. Transfiguration is a change. It is often used in the case of a fundamental change, like a caterpillar to a butterfly, but here in Jesus’ case, it’s a change in perception, a revealing of what was always there but was purposefully hidden. Jesus himself isn’t changing his nature, but he’s allowing us to see him closer to who he really is.

Our Gospel takes us to a time in the latter part of Jesus’ ministry, when he takes Peter, James, and John (the group we sometimes refer to as the “inner circle of the disciples”) away from the crowds and even from the rest of the twelve. But this is not just a hike for solitude, nor a time for prayer; Jesus has a specific reason for this time alone: he has something he wants to show them.

There [Jesus] was transfigured in front of them. His face was shining like the sun. His clothing became as white as the light. The Gospel writers really reach for words to describe what Jesus looked like. Luke says he was dazzling white, akin to lightning. Mark observes that his clothing was far whiter than any bleach could ever produce. Clearly, what the disciples are seeing here is supernatural, beyond any normal experience with clothing or people’s appearances; what they are seeing is at least a glimpse of Jesus as God.

But why? Why the peeling back of the curtain now, for this very limited audience, rather than for the crowds? Afterall, couldn’t Jesus have won a tremendous number of followers if he appeared before the masses in all of his glory as God? Couldn’t he back up his claims of divine origin in an instant more than a thousand healing miracles could ever prove? Wouldn’t this be the path to true success in his ministry, to converting people en masse?

Perhaps, but that’s not the point. This is for Peter, James, and John to hold on to. We get an idea of Jesus’ purpose as they come down the mountain when he instructs them, “Do not tell anyone what you have seen until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” In not too long, the disciples are going to go through a really, really dark period. They’re going to see Jesus look as weak, as powerless, and as helpless as he could possibly look. The sight of his broken body nailed to the cross is going to be heart-wrenching, but even more so his final cry. Their dear friend and teacher, the one they thought would be the Savior, will be dead.

But notice where Jesus directs them right here—don’t talk about this until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Even in this moment, he is pointing them past his death, so that they can see the death for what it will be: victory, not defeat. It is going to be crucial for them to remember that the one who suffers on the cross is the same one who shone with the radiance akin to the sun on this high place.

In fact, Jesus’ transfiguration is entirely focused on that final sacrifice. Luke tells us that when Moses and Elijah appear to speak with Jesus, they’re speaking with him about his “departure” (Luke 9:31), that is, his death. This is the whole point; this is Jesus’ entire mission. He didn’t come to amass a huge following of people clinging to his every word—he will entrust that work to the disciples and those who believe because of their work. No, Jesus’ purpose is to give his life for the sins of the world.

We spent time in Advent talking about the title for Jesus, “Immanuel,” which, when translated, means “God with us.” Here, Jesus shows us beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is literal. God has come among his people to live in our place, suffer our hell, and rescue us from every trouble we had brought on ourselves through our sin.

This week, we are moving into the season of Lent. It will be a much more somber time than the run we’ve had through the Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany seasons. In our meditations during Lent, especially during our midweek evening services, Jesus will look very different from the way he did here on the hilltop. Since Christmas, Jesus’ true nature as God has largely been cloaked and hidden by his true nature as man. We’ve needed specific reminders during this Epiphany season of who he really is: not merely a man, but the God-man who came to be our Savior.

But that will go double during Lent. He’s going to look as far from God as possible as he sweats like blood due to stress and turmoil in the garden, as he is betrayed by a dear friend, convicted of crimes he didn’t commit, while not even raising a word or hand to defend himself. Finally, in the ultimate example of not looking at all like God, his bones will be yanked out of their joints as he’s subjected to the horrendously brutal execution of crucifixion. Nothing about this will look divine; nothing will look like Jesus is in control of anything.

But as we see everything seem to spiral out of control, remember this scene on the mountain. Remember who it actually is going through these things. This is the eternal, almighty God, the one who controls all things and has promised to save us—and that is what he will be doing as he allows himself to be led to the cross and killed. Nothing is out of his control; everything will go according to plan.

And what does that mean for us? I think it’s striking that as the disciples collapse in fear after hearing the voice of the Father, Jesus touches them and tells them they can get up. In that moment, things are back to normal. Jesus looks like he normally does. There is no bright cloud, no Moses or Elijah, just the three disciples and Jesus. But what is the first thing he says to them after telling them to get up? “Do not be afraid.” Jesus seeks to end their fear in the moment, yes, but also to end fear for all people forever.

Ultimately, the disciples’ fear stemmed from their sin. As it became clearer and clearer that they were in God’s presence, they became more and more afraid. And that makes sense because the imperfect cannot survive a brush with the perfect. Both Moses and Elijah “saw” God in part during their lives, but he was always mostly hidden from them because they could not see him in full and live. And even this glimpse of Jesus’ glory on the mountain is only a small fraction of his true glory as God; it is enough to be shocking and to make the point, but not enough to destroy these three men who hiked up the hill with Jesus.

Jesus reaches down to us and tells us that we can get up and not be afraid as well. Our fears and troubles, our headaches and heartaches, all ultimately boil down to sin. Everything bad in our lives is either the result of our own sin or of living in this broken world. But Jesus has solved that. He has rescued us from the disaster we had brought on ourselves; we do not need to be afraid because Jesus, crucified and raised, is the one who walks through every moment of our lives with us until the day he fully rescues us from this disastrous world and brings us to himself in safety and perfection for eternity.

Whether we are seeing Jesus crucified and buried or desperately trying to see him through the tears of this life, as we leave this mountaintop today, may we be able to see Jesus as he really is: the one who promised to save us, did save us, and will fully save us from off this trouble when our time comes.

To Immanuel be all glory, honor, and thanks forever and ever! Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria