The Transfiguration: Who is Changed?

Hey all--

How about another post from a reflection I wrote last summer? The book I was reading was The Wellspring of Worship by Father Jean Corbon, who was a major influence on the Catechism of the Catholic Church's 4th section on prayer. This one is on the Transfiguration, and shows a bit of my prayer life, my fears, desires, etc....

        One thing that really caught my attention from this week’s reading was when Corbon speaks of the Transfiguration as not being a change in Jesus, but a change in the disciples. I had never thought of it like that before. Specifically, what I reflected on was that Jesus “reveals himself by giving himself, and he gives himself in order to transform us into himself” (92). By revealing His true self, Jesus unveils our eyes, so that we may be like Him, i.e., divinized.

            It occurred to me that this radical love is a rather mysterious paradox: that God wants His creation to become like Him so much that He reveals Himself as a man in a unique way at the Transfiguration. This event in history, this singular moment in time, has become an eternal ‘metamorphosis’ for all Christians: like Peter, James, and John, Christians are called into intimate communion with the Lord by way of the Lord Himself. I feel almost too close to Jesus in this way: I know that this much love is something I have experienced at different moments in my life, and all of those moments were overwhelmingly emotional. I’m scared to be so close to this kind of love, for I know that it will demand more of me: More generosity, more selflessness, more love, more others, less me. But I see how selfish I am. Perhaps wrongfully so, I am afraid of failing at loving. I’m afraid of missing out on Heaven.

            But the Lord reassured me that I needn’t be afraid. Rather, I can be free to love Him as best as I’m currently able. This is soothing and I find that I want to love Him well now. The present moment is the most important moment. I still feel a bit intimidated by this grand, gutsy call. And so like my girl, St. Thérèse, I must always remember to respond to His kenosis (i.e., Jesus' self-emptying love) with my very self, generously giving Him whatever I’m able...full of humble confidence in His unfathomable mercy for the times when I do not love Him well.


PS--like my catfish? Caught it around the same time I wrote this reflection.