Saturday, Feburary 14, 2026 & Sunday, February 15, 2026
Saint Luke Lutheran Church; Albuquerque, New Mexico
MATTHEW 17.1-9
1 Καὶ μεθ’ ἡμέρας ἓξ παραλαμβάνει ὁ Ἰησοῦς τὸν Πέτρον καὶ Ἰάκωβον καὶ Ἰωάννην τὸν ἀδελφὸν αὐτοῦ, καὶ ἀναφέρει αὐτοὺς εἰς ὄρος ὑψηλὸν κατ’ ἰδίαν.2 καὶ μετεμορφώθη ἔμπροσθεν αὐτῶν, καὶ ἔλαμψεν τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ ὡς ὁ ἥλιος, τὰ δὲ ἱμάτια αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο λευκὰ ὡς τὸ φῶς.3 καὶ ἰδοὺ ὤφθη αὐτοῖς Μωϋσῆς καὶ Ἠλίας συλλαλοῦντες μετ’ αὐτοῦ.4 ἀποκριθεὶς δὲ ὁ Πέτρος εἶπεν τῷ Ἰησοῦ, Κύριε, καλόν ἐστιν ἡμᾶς ὧδε εἶναι· εἰ θέλεις, ποιήσω ὧδε τρεῖς σκηνάς, σοὶ μίαν καὶ Μωϋσεῖ μίαν καὶ Ἠλίᾳ μίαν.5 ἔτι αὐτοῦ λαλοῦντος ἰδοὺ νεφέλη φωτεινὴ ἐπεσκίασεν αὐτούς, καὶ ἰδοὺ φωνὴ ἐκ τῆς νεφέλης λέγουσα, Οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἀγαπητός, ἐν ᾧ εὐδόκησα· ἀκούετε αὐτοῦ.6 καὶ ἀκούσαντες οἱ μαθηταὶ ἔπεσαν ἐπὶ πρόσωπον αὐτῶν καὶ ἐφοβήθησαν σφόδρα.7 καὶ προσῆλθεν ὁ Ἰησοῦς καὶ ἁψάμενος αὐτῶν εἶπεν, Ἐγέρθητε καὶ μὴ φοβεῖσθε.8 ἐπάραντες δὲ τοὺς ὀφθαλμοὺς αὐτῶν οὐδένα εἶδον εἰ μὴ αὐτὸν Ἰησοῦν μόνον.9 Καὶ καταβαινόντων αὐτῶν ἐκ τοῦ ὄρους ἐνετείλατο αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς λέγων, Μηδενὶ εἴπητε τὸ ὅραμα ἕως οὗ ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου ἐκ νεκρῶν ἐγερθῇ.
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. 2 And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became bright as light. 3 Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. 4 Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I[a] will set up three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 5 While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and a voice from the cloud said, “This is my Son, the Beloved;[b] with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” 6 When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. 7 But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” 8 And when they raised their eyes, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. 9 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.”
+ In nomine Domini. Amen.
Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration of our Lord. It is the Sunday when leave the Season of Epiphany, preparing ourselves for the Season of Lent which begins this coming Wednesday, Ash Wednesday.
In the Old Calendar of the Church this Sunday is also known as Quinquagesima Sunday, or “50 days before Easter.” The “gesimas” (as we called then in Seminary) began three Sundays back on February 1st which was Septuagesima (70 days before Easter) followed by February 8th which was Sexagesima (60 days before Easter) and of course this Sunday is Quinquagesima (50 days before Easter).
[You can now amaze and astound your friends this week when they ask you, “Isn’t Ash Wednesday this week?” by answering, “Yes, but did you know that Sunday was not only the Transfiguration of our Lord, but also Quinquagesima — let me explain.” Everyone, I know will thank you that you are well-educated in the ancient calendar of the Church Year.]
And there’s another Liturgical practice which the Church follows, and that is: at the conclusion of worship on Transfiguration Sunday we say “goodbye” to the Alleluia. [Alleluia is a Hebrew word which means essentially, “Give praise to God.”
Why? Because Lent is a penitential season, and during a penitential season it seems right not to be overly rejoicing. And so wherever the Alleluia appears in the Liturgy, we either avoid it, or say or sing something else instead.
[Those of us who grew up with the “Red” Service Book and Hymnal will remember that during Lent, right before the reading of the Gospel, instead of singing “Alleluia, etc.” we sang “Christ has humbled himself, and become obedient unto death, even death on the Cross.”]
Does this mean that if you slip and sing or say the word “Alleluia” will there be some drastic punishment? Will you be denied the Sacrament? Will you get a Letter from the Bishop?
No. [Well, you might get a letter from the Bishop anyway, because St. Luke congregation is involved in a lengthy search for a full-time Pastor — but not because you mistakenly said “Alleluia” during the Forty Days.]
[And I remember one year in Santa Fe in our parish when I was instructing the children especially why we were not saying Alleluia for the next forty days, five or six year old S______n grabbed the sleeve of my alb the Second Sunday of Lent and said in a very loud voice for all to hear: “I say Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia!”
So, just let it be — we bid a fond farewell to the Alleluia this weekend and we turn our hearts and souls and minds and bodies to the rigors of Lent (in the ancient words): Fasting for the good of your body, Prayer for the good of your soul, and Alms-giving for the good of your neighbor.
It’s a good practice, and I hope we can all dedicate ourselves to it this coming Ash Wednesday.
But — The Transfiguration; what about it? And why? And what is it for us?
You see (remembering the 1st Reading for today from Exodus) the obvious connection with Moses on Mt. Sinai and Jesus on the [unknown] Mountain of Transfiguration. Jesus takes the three leaders of his followers, Peter, James and John with him as they ascend the mountain. Once there Jesus is — the Greek account in Matthew reads: καὶ μετεμορφώθη ἔμπροσθεν αὐτῶν — “and he was (lit.) “metamorphosed” — his “form” was “changed” (we translate that as “transfigured” which is the Latin way of saying it — “in front of” them. His face shines, his clothing become dazzling white.
Then suddenly two giants of the Hebrew Scriptures appear: Moses (the giver of Law (Torah) and Elijah (the prophet). The point is obvious: what began with Moses and continued with Elijah now is passed along to Jesus. Jesus is not some odd upstart pretender, he is the furtherance of God’s covenant with God’s people.
And note, that for anyone listening to this account in the 1st Century, anyone who is Jewish (which in Matthew’s case we think the audience is primarily Jewish) — everyone would see the connection with Elijah — the tradition is: before the Messiah can appear, Elijah must appear first. He foreshadows the coming of the Promised One.
Remember John the Baptist? That was the same thing: John dressed in animal skins, ate strange food, carried a staff and shouted a lot — just the way Elijah was pictured and acted before.
So, everything (in the story) points to Jesus as the one who is coming into the world with the promise of Salvation.
What does Peter do when seeing these three (Jesus, Moses, Elijah)? He responds like a faithful Jew and offers to build three “tents” or “shelters” (Greek: τρεῖς σκηνάς) — what he is offering to do is to build three סֻכּוֹת (Hebrew “sukkot”). A sukkah is a shelter, which during the Festival of Sukkot in Judaism which follows the High Holy Days each Autumn, is hastily constructed and must at the top be either completely open or covered with branches such that when you look up you can see the sky, the stars.
Peter offers to build three sukkot; but suddenly (there are a lot of “suddenly(s)” in the Gospels) (the Greek is ἰδοὺ, which I usually translate “behold!”) a “bright cloud” (νεφέλη φωτεινὴ) appears and covers everyone.
SMALL EXCURSUS: There may be a bit of “word-play” or more correctly “word-sound-play” in the Greek text; at least in my humble opinion. It occurs in the following:
τρεῖς σκηνάς (three tents/shelters/sukkot),
and
νεφέλη φωτεινὴ ἐπεσκίασεν αὐτούς (lit. cloud bright “overshadowed” them).
And then from the cloud a voice speaks: Οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ υἱός μου ὁ ἀγαπητός, ἐν ᾧ εὐδόκησα· ἀκούετε αὐτοῦ. Lit. “This one is the son of me, the beloved one, with (in) him εὐδόκησα [“I am pleased”]” — Now come the most important words in this text: ἀκούετε αὐτοῦ “Listen to him!”
When Peter, James and John hear this, they fall to their knees, trembling in fear and dread. Yes — well would not you and I? If this morning a while we are coming to the Table holding out our hands for the bread and reaching for the cup, if in that moment a voice were to speak to us from the Cross hanging there over the Altar, would we not hide under the pews‽
Jesus touches them, assures them that there is nothing to fear, they stand up. But now there is no cloud, no voice, no Moses, no Elijah — only a solitary Jesus.
Then, the text says, they go down the mountain trail while Jesus tells them “Don’t tell anyone about this until after the Resurrection” (well, more or less that’s what he says, which doesn’t make sense because how does he [Jesus] know about the Resurrection‽
Obviously verse 9 is a redaction or later interpretation placed upon the text, since everyone hearing the story from Matthew already knows about the Resurrection of Jesus from the dead.
There are a multitude of questions, of course:
Why do they just simply get up and leave? Do they not have anything to say about what just happened? And why does the reading end here? (Yes, it’s because it says so in the Lectionary; but why, why not finish the story?) What happens once they come down the mountain?
All that, of course, is left for sermons and the preaching thereof at another time, but with those questions unanswered, we have before us a more important question: What about this? What about this — for us. Where and when and how are we being “transfigured” today? Are we? Where and when and how is the Church being metamorphosed? Is it? When we ascend to the Table of the Lord and there commune with the presence of the Holy, what happens to us in that moment? Are we perhaps transformed? And into what or whom are we changed?
I believe this: Is it not that we become believers? Do we not somehow in the midst of what the Church calls “these holy mysteries” there in exchange our doubt and fear and trembling sins for grace and hope and comfort and love? With word, and bread, and cup? Somehow?
For myself, and hopefully for you, — there is no liturgy, no Eucharist, no assembly of worship which when I leave it, I realize that I am not the same as when I entered. With all my questions, the abundance of my doubts, misgivings, and yes — sins stirring about inside — what happens within the community of faith (for me that is Holy Communion) what happens is that I become again a person of faith, a follower of Jesus — which is not only an overwhelming of spiritual goodness (that is, I don’t just feel forgiven and loved) it is a swelling of realization that I am being once again called — beckoned, invited (if you will) to do just that — follow. Where? Into the world, through those doors at the back of the nave, into the realm of neighbors who need hope, healing, assurance, caring, compassion, and love. It is out there where today and always we move from the warmth and security of our liturgy — we follow [today] the Alleluia into the world, which is where we and it belong for the sake of the Gospel, the good news of God in the person of the one we follow, Jesus.
And, let us say: Amen.
Deo Gratias (+)
The Rev. Benjamin Larzelere III
Retired
Nota(ble) Be(n)e 