The season of Epiphany begins with light: the star that rises in the east and comes to rest over the child’s house in Bethlehem. The light of the star was bright enough for the wise men to chart its progress through the heavens; but of course, even the light of the brightest star or planet or other heavenly object is nothing compared to the light of the sun. But the wise men had studied the stars and they knew something was up. They could peer into the darkness and see the way forward. They ask King Herod, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we have observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage” (Matt. 2:2). They want to trace the light to its source, which is Jesus Christ himself.
Today, on this last Sunday in the Epiphany season, the light that began to shine with the star at Bethlehem comes to a new fulness in Jesus’ transfiguration on the mountain. The star the wise men charted in the heavens revealed the birth of the Messiah; now, the light that shines on the mountain reveals Jesus’ glory to his chosen followers. As our Gospel says, “And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white” (Matt. 17:2).
We’re left with an impression of overwhelming brightness. Even the cloud that covers them on the mountain is “a bright cloud” (Matt. 17:5); a bit like the cloud and fire that covers Mount Sinai in our first reading. There, Moses is given the law and the commandments. In that cloud seeded with fire, God gave the children of Israel a law to live by; on the mountain of transfiguration in our Gospel Jesus is revealed as the fulfillment of that law. The star rises at Jesus’ birth, and now at his transfiguration, the whole zone is flooded with light.
The light of Christ shines in the midst of a contrasting darkness: not just the darkness of night, but the darkness of moral confusion, of a failure to perceive what is right, and to do the right thing. That is the deepest sort of darkness, where we can no longer see the right course or follow its path. It’s this moral confusion that undergirds the troubles of our time. It’s a time “of wars, and rumors of wars” (Matt. 24:6), as Jesus says elsewhere; a time when violence and hatred toward our enemies are mistaken for the virtues of strength and moral courage. Jesus teaches us a better and more virtuous way: the love of God and love of neighbor. In times like these, we need to chart our course by the light that shines in the darkness; the light of Christ within us that darkness cannot ever overcome (Jo. 1:5), as it says in St. John’s Gospel.
We must keep our eye on that light, and walk in its brightness. The season of Lent that is even now overshadowing us is a traditional time for self-examination and reflection; a time for reassessment as we look inward. The light that comes from Christ can pierce the darkness of our times, and the darkness of ourselves, and show us the way forward.
Our reading from Second Peter reminds us that there is a better day coming. “You do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts” (2 Pet. 1:19). The light that we see in the face of Christ, shining in Bethlehem and on the mountain of transfiguration, will come to full light on the last great day of the Lord. There is a better day coming.
As the apostle John wrote in his first letter, “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. When [Christ] is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is” (1 Jo. 3:2). The light that shines in the face of Christ, on the day of judgment, will reveal everything that is now hidden, about ourselves and about our world. The light that is even now shining is transforming us, by God’s word and through the sacraments we receive, into what we were created to be. We will be like him, for we will see him as he is.
Until that day, the light shines like a lamp in a dark place, lighting the path forward for each of us. Today, we celebrate the baptism and laying on of hands of a new member of the Church, and the confirmation of a number of other members of St. Peter’s Church. The vows of baptism, and their renewal in confirmation, commit us to walking along the path that is lit by the light of Christ. For his followers, there is no other path to follow. We follow his star and walk in his light.