Lectionary Commentaries for March 2, 2025
Transfiguration of Our Lord

The Transfiguration is one of the most quintessential mountaintop experiences in scripture: a glimpse of divine glory, a word from God, and an experience that changes all who are present. 

Recounted in all three Synoptic Gospels as well as in 2 Peter (1:16–18), the Transfiguration is one of the most well-attested events in Jesus’ life. Greek Orthodox tradition calls it the Metamorphosis due to the Greek word for “transfigured” in Matthew and Mark (metamorphōthē). In the Gospels, the story always appears after Jesus’ first passion prediction, as the focus of ministry shifts toward Jerusalem. 

Lukan distinctives

Among the Synoptic Gospel accounts, Luke has the greatest number of distinctive features. For example, it happens “eight days after” instead of six (Luke 9:28; see also Mark 9:2; Matthew 17:1). Luke also uses similar language but not “transfigured” (9:29; see also Mark 9:2; Matthew 17:2). 

Also, prayer is the context in which the event happens. They ascend the mountain to pray, and it is as “he was praying” that the Transfiguration took place (Luke 9:28–29). This is one of many instances in Luke-Acts where prayer sets the stage for major events, decisions, and ministry moments (Luke 3:21–22; 6:12; 11:1; 22:39–46; Acts 1:14; 4:31; 13:2–3). 

Further, Luke describes the content of conversation among Jesus, Moses, and Elijah: they “were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem” (Luke 9:31). The word for “departure” (exodos) is directly associated in biblical tradition with the great liberation from Egypt, the greatest salvation story in the Hebrew Bible. This characterizes Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension—events soon to happen in Jerusalem—as a New Exodus within the larger story of God’s saving purpose. 

Finally, Luke describes further the disciples’ experience. As the event happens, they are “weighed down with sleep” (9:32). Just as Luke attributes their sleep in the Garden of Gethsemane to “grief” (22:45–46), here the disciples’ dull senses are made more understandable. Luke adds that they “saw his glory” and were “terrified as they entered the cloud” (9:32, 34). These descriptors draw attention to the disciples’ experience of a divine encounter. Within Luke-Acts, such eyewitness experiences enhance the disciples’ credentials to serve later as Jesus’ witnesses (Luke 24:48; Acts 1:21–22; 3:15; 4:20; 10:39).

Why Moses and Elijah?

Moses and Elijah are two of the most famous leaders from Israel’s history. They both saw God’s glory, had revelatory mountaintop experiences, came to the end of their lives at God’s bidding, and came to be associated with traditions that they never died (Deuteronomy 34:1–5; 1 Kings 2:11). Even more, in biblical tradition they may represent the Law (Moses) and the Prophets (Elijah), which at this time formed the two cornerstones of Israel’s scripture (Luke 16:16, 29; Acts 13:15; 24:14; 28:23–24; see also Luke 24:44). The presence of Moses and Elijah at the Transfiguration clearly affirms Jesus’ ministry as consonant with their legacies and fulfilling the purpose they shared. 

Why three tents, Peter?

Largely influenced by the tone of Mark’s explanation (“For he did not know what to say,” 9:6), we often discredit Peter’s offer as speaking without thinking. But Luke tones down Mark’s explanation (9:33), and Matthew omits it entirely—suggesting they believed Peter’s reaction appropriate. 

In biblical tradition, Peter’s offer to build dwellings or tents (Greek skēnas) recalls the Festival of Booths (or Tents), using the same language (Leviticus 23:42). His motive here may be reverence for the occasion’s sacredness, hospitality to guests, or simply a desire to prolong the experience. The heavenly voice’s response implies that Peter’s offer is unnecessary, but also undeserving of rebuke. 

A divine word

Along with Jesus’ baptism, the Transfiguration is one of two places in the Synoptic Gospel accounts where God directly speaks. That their words are so parallel connects the two stories, making the Transfiguration function partially as an extension of Jesus’ baptism. But at the Transfiguration God clearly speaks to the disciples, as the closing exhortation makes clear (“listen to him!”). 

At this critical juncture of Jesus’ ministry (soon to head to Jerusalem), this word of affirmation is beneficial to all those present. Just as Jesus’ baptism precedes and empowers the first phrase of earthly ministry, his transfiguration precedes and empowers the second half. The story invites hearers and readers to consider how God’s words of promise to us may empower our ministries today.

The call to return to the valley

Enlightening as the Transfiguration may have been, it changes nothing about the challenges and difficulties to come. The very next episode makes this clear (Luke 9:37–43). Upon hearing a father’s request for his son’s healing, Jesus responds with greater umbrage than anywhere else in Luke: “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you?” (9:41). It suggests that the shift from mountaintop to valley was a hard turn even for Jesus. 

The Transfiguration experience clarifies Jesus’ significance and reaffirms his purpose—but does nothing to alter the challenges to come. This puts into perspective the relative significance of spiritual mountaintop experiences in our lives today: While offering clarity, affirmation, and formative experiences, the call to ministry leads us not to stay there (as Peter may have desired), but to return below, where the hard work of healing happens. After all, Jesus’ ministry is not transformative and redemptive because of what he did on the mountain, but what he did in the valleys and wilderness areas elsewhere.

Called to listen more than understand

The Transfiguration story raises more questions than it answers. It is more mysterious than explained. The event is profound yet cryptic, spontaneous yet connected to other events, and transformative yet changing little about pressing challenges. Like many spiritual mountaintop experiences, it offers a glimpse of the divine that alters perspective more than circumstances. Along with Jesus’ disciples, we are called not to understand everything, but to “listen to him!”—and eventually to bear witness to what we have seen and heard.

Have you ever wondered why many artistic representations of Moses show two horns painted or sculpted on his forehead? The answer is found in Exodus 34:29–35.

What happened to Moses’ face?

According to Exodus 34:29–35, after spending 40 days and 40 nights on the mountain of Sinai, Moses finally came down carrying the two testimony tablets. Upon looking at Moses’ face, Aaron and the Israelites were afraid. Therefore, they did not come near him. The Hebrew text describes the skin of the face of Moses in an obscure way: “and Moses did not know that his face skin shone [qāran] in his speaking with him” (34:29, 30, 35). Various interpretations have been suggested to explain this ambiguous description.

The first interpretation argues the face of Moses was shining and glorious. Some ancient Greek translations of the Old Testament translate the verb into dedoxastai, “it had become glorified” (in a similar vein, the Peshitta and Targumim render the phrase to mean “shone” or “radiant”).

In addition to these ancient translations, modern interpreters who advocate for this meaning appeal to Habakkuk 3:4 to support their argument. In that verse, the word qarnayim, “two horns,” parallels the words nōgah, “brightness,” and ’ôr, “light” (see also Psalm 22:1). Moses’ face shines as a result of encountering the divine glory. Moses’ shining face makes a glimpse of the divine light and brightness accessible to the people.

The second line of interpretation argues that the verb qāran should be understood in connection to the Hebrew noun qeren “horn,” thus the verb would mean “was horned.” Some ancient Greek and Latin translations of the Old Testament understand the clause to mean “became horned.” Based of these ancient versions and the fact that the hiphil maqrîn appears in Psalm 69:32, some interpreters defend the view that a horn grew out of Moses’ forehead. Other interpreters who follow this perspective suggest that the mask or veil Moses wore had horns on it.

Such an understanding is very curious, given the context of this narrative in which Moses destroys the golden calf. If, indeed, Moses had horns, this might be a criticism of Aaron’s involvement in molding the calf. Moses, who has access to YHWH’s glory, is redirecting the people away from idolatry toward YHWH, the God of their ancestors, who led them out of Egypt. The true prophet-leader points toward the God who is worthy of worship, not a minimized version of God that is manipulated by institutions, religious or political, as was the case with the golden calf (see 1 Kings 12).

A third interpretation is put forth by William Propp, who suggests that the phrase should be translated as “the skin of his face was burnt to the hardness of horn.”¹ Because Moses beheld YHWH (Exodus 33:18–23; 34:5–8) and spoke with YHWH face-to-face (Numbers 12:8; Deuteronomy 34:10), YHWH’s glory, which is like a “consuming fire” (Exodus 24:17), made his skin as hard as a horn. According to Propp, then, this tradition intends to communicate a paradoxical message about Moses: “Exod 34:29–34 describes the lawgiver’s disfigurement on the one hand and immunity on the other. The story honors Moses as the human most intimate with Yahweh, but it also specifies the price he paid.”²

Encountering the divine and the meaning of prophetic authority

Whatever the meaning of the word that describes Moses’ face, what happened to him resulted from speaking with YHWH (34:29). Aaron and the people were afraid of Moses because his face was shining or disfigured, but that fear did not turn into an opportunity for Moses to abuse his authority. He recognized his role as a mediator. Therefore, he called them.

The people drew closer. Moses, then, handed over to them everything that YHWH had commanded him to say (34:31–32). When Moses finished speaking to them, he put a veil on his face. Whenever he spoke with YHWH, whether on the mountain (34:32) or in the tent (33:11; 34:34), he would lift the veil. Thus, the veil was an instrument to cover Moses’ face only when he was not speaking to God or the people.

The veil is a solution that does not apply to two important occasions, which were likely repeated throughout Moses’ prophetic ministry. He takes the veil off when he speaks to God. This results in renewing his radiant face or hardened skin. Moses also takes the veil off when he speaks to the people. Taken as a metaphor, Moses’ authority relies on the divine encounter, and he cannot hide his face from this God as he did initially at his call in Exodus 3. Furthermore, Moses’ authority also depends on communicating clearly and transparently with the people. They may be terrified of his face, but they need to hear him communicate clearly, not from behind a veil.

The connection between encountering the divine glory and the authority of the word, commandments, or messages revealed through the mediator seems to be the same point in the New Testament passages. In the transfiguration story in Luke 9:28–36 and its reference in 2 Peter 1:16–21, the glory of Jesus is revealed, and his authority is confirmed by the divine voice.

These moments of encountering the divine in this clear way are not the constant experience of the faith community. When the faith community cannot encounter Moses or Jesus directly, they have access to divine revelation in the prophetic words and commandments found in scriptural traditions. The people of God, however, do not just dwell around abstract revelatory words or commandments. They get to work. In Exodus, the people go on to build a Tabernacle that will make the divine presence and guidance in the wilderness accessible (Exodus 35–40). In the New Testament, Jesus and the disciples go on to heal and feed the people (Luke 9:10–43).

The divine presence contains radiance and glory. Yet, given the brokenness of this world, there is also suffering. Thus, Moses’ face was disfigured, and Jesus died on the cross (Luke 9:22, 44). Encountering divine glory and holding prophetic authority are not about hegemony and control over others; communicating the divine will is not about strict commandments that are not life-giving. The prophetic word calls for those who have privileges to suffer for the sake of revealing the divine desire to heal this aching world.

Notes

1. William H. Propp, “The Skin of Moses’ Face—Transfigured or Disfigured?” CBQ 49 (1987): 375–86.
2. Propp, “The Skin of Moses’ Face.”

Bibliography

William H. Propp, “The Skin of Moses’ Face—Transfigured or Disfigured?” CBQ 49 (1987): 375–86.

William H. Propp, Exodus 19–40: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary Anchor Bible Commentary 2A (New York: Doubleday, 2006), 620–23.

Psalm 99 is one of a small set of psalms that exuberantly proclaim the countercultural message that the Lord reigns as king over the entire universe:¹

• “The Lord is king! Let the peoples tremble!” (99:1)
• “The Lord is king, he is clothed in majesty” (93:1)
• “The Lord is a great God, and a great king above all gods” (95:3)
• “Say among the nations, ‘The Lord is king!’” (96:10)
• “The Lord is king! Let the earth rejoice!” (97:1)
• “Make a joyful noise before the king, the Lord!” (98:6)
• “For God is the king of all the earth; sing praises with a psalm! (47:7)
• “Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised in the city of God … the city of the great king” (48:1a, 2b)

These psalms are known as the enthronement psalms or, more simply, as the yahweh mālāk psalms, after a key phrase that occurs in many of these psalms. The key phrase yahweh mālāk is usually translated as “The Lord reigns” or “The Lord is king.” Not to be confused with the royal psalms that celebrate the human, Davidic king, the enthronement psalms celebrate Israel’s God Yahweh as the universal, divine king.

For Christians who are well-accustomed to confessing either “Christ the king” or “God the king,” it may be easy to miss the astonishing, countercultural claim of these psalms. But if we take a little time and exercise a little imagination, we can tune our ears to hear the proclamation of these psalms.

Imagine where this psalm and others were performed in the ancient world: in a modest little temple (let’s be honest), on a smallish mountain (Zion), in a tiny little kingdom (Judah) that was constantly being dominated by the great empires of the age (Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greece, Seleucid, Rome). In that setting, some priest, poet, or prophet struck up the courage to announce that its God—the Lord—was the king of the entire earth and heaven. And therefore, “the peoples” should tremble because he is “exalted over all the peoples.”

Seriously? We can be pretty sure that the Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, Seleucids, and Romans were not overly impressed. They were often quite annoyed by this little kingdom Judah, whose people so often rebelled against their imperial control. But they were not too impressed, as one imperial official—the Assyrian Rabshakeh—warned the Judeans during King Hezekiah’s rebellion of 701 BCE: 

Hear the word of the great king, the king of Assyria! … “Do not listen to Hezekiah when he misleads you by saying, ‘Yahweh will deliver us.’ Has any of the gods of the nations ever delivered its land out of the hand of the king of Assyria? Where are the gods of Hamath and Arpad? Where are the gods of Sepharvaim, Hena, and Ivvah? Have they delivered Samaria out of my hand? Who among all the gods of the countries have delivered their countries out of my hand, that Yahweh should deliver Jerusalem out of my hand?’” (1 Kings 18:28b, 32b–35)

And yet, the priests, poets, and prophets of Judah continued to walk in faith and confess to the world in song: “The Lord is king! Let the peoples tremble!” 

After its initial claim that “The Lord reigns” or “The Lord is king,” the psalm continues to blend more calls to praise with a series of epithets about the Lord.

Let them praise your great and awesome name!
He is holy!
Strong king! Lover of justice!
You have established equity.
Justice and righteousness,
You have provided in Jacob.
Extol the Lord our God;
Worship at his footstool!
He is holy! (verses 3–5)

Having already recalled the name of Jacob as a metonym for the entire nation, the psalm now evokes the names of three key ancestral leaders—Moses, Aaron, and Samuel. The mention of Moses and the recollection of the theophany at Sinai in which the Lord “spoke to them in the pillar of cloud” (verse 7) is clearly the reason the psalm is assigned for this week. But in the psalm’s internal rhetoric, where the psalmist has just called upon “all the peoples” to “praise your great and awesome name” (verse 3), the three ancestors are recalled because they were “among those who called on his name. They cried to the Lord, and he answered them” (verse 6).

The psalm then concludes:

O Lord our God, you answered them;
You were a forgiving God for them,
And an avenger against their wrongs.
Extol the Lord our God,
And worship at his holy mountain;
For the Lord our God is holy! (verses 8–9)

The Lord both forgives and avenges. It is not clear whose “wrongs” the Lord avenges. The enemies of Moses, Aaron, and Samuel? Perhaps. But it is more likely that the sense is that the Lord both forgives their sins and yet holds them accountable. The stories of Moses, Aaron, and Samuel would confirm this interpretation, since they experienced both God’s grace and God’s accountability.

The psalm’s climactic note sings praise to the Lord because he is holy.  Three times—in verses 3, 5, and 9—the psalm asserts the holiness of the Lord. The first two times the psalm simply states, “He is holy!” The third and final time there is a slight variation: “The Lord our God is holy.” Following the interpretive principle of repetition, we may conclude that this phrase is the central theological confession of the psalm.

But what does that even mean? We say it so often—God is holy—that the sentence has practically lost all sense of meaning. The basic sense of the Hebrew root qadash is “to set aside” or “to be set aside.” That is, to be different.

My generation uses the adjective “different” negatively. “Well, he’s different”—meaning “strange.” Or “That was different”—meaning “not something I want to experience again.”

But my son’s generation uses the adjective “different” positively. “Oh, I’m different now, I’m different!”—meaning “awesome at something.” After making a great play in athletics, a kid might yell out, “I’m built different!” Meaning “tremendous.”

When we call God holy, we mean a bit of each of these. God is holy, different—God’s presence is scary, unpleasant for those unused to it. For humans, God’s presence is even dangerous. But mostly, God is different because God is awesome, excellent, tremendous.

Notes

1. This commentary was first published on this website for February 27, 2022.

This fascinating passage from Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians is part of his larger discussion with them of what it means to be “in Christ.” Paul seeks to distinguish and defend his ministry from other forms of ministry in Corinth, ones that might also appeal to the Corinthians. 

A fragmentary letter?

Scholars have debated whether this letter should be interpreted as a single letter or as a series of fragments. While there are good arguments for reading the letter as a series of fragments (with breaks in the argument at the following points: 1:1–2:13; 2:14–6:13; 6:14–7:1; 7:2–7:16; 8:1–24; 9:1–15; 10:1–13:13), there are also solid arguments for reading the letter as a unified whole. For lay readers, this scholarly debate is not incredibly important, since they most regularly encounter the text as a whole. This passage (3:12–4:2) tends to be interpreted within the context of the surrounding chapters in most configurations, due to the continuation of the argumentation and themes. 

Rival ministries

At issue in Corinth is the concern about leadership and authority—which ministry and whose teachings should the Corinthians follow? Much of 2 Corinthians can be read as Paul’s response to accusations about his leadership and the truth of his ministry, such as why he changed his plans to come to them (1:15–2:2), the authority with which he speaks (2:17), the raising of funds for the saints in Jerusalem (8:1–9:15), and the skill and manner with which he communicates (10:10). 

Compared to other ministries that depend on human qualifications of rhetorical training or lineage, Paul states that his qualifications come from God (3:5), and that his letter of recommendation is written on their hearts by the Spirit of the living God (3:3). He argues that they are his letter of recommendation that his ministry is good and is of God (3:3). 

Danger of supersessionist readings

This passage (3:12–4:2) has often been interpreted to promote supersession, a belief that falsely pits Christianity against Judaism. Paul should not be interpreted as saying that Judaism is a religion of death and condemnation while Christianity is one of glory. Such readings are both anachronistic and unethical. While Paul has been called on a mission to the Gentiles, it is a Jewish mission to bring these Gentiles into the people of Israel through Christ. Paul’s argument in this passage is that turning to the Spirit of the Lord brings transformation into the same image and same community, while focusing on divisions breaks apart the community and divides people from the Lord. 

In the tradition of Moses

On the one hand, Paul wants to root the Corinthian Gentiles who are “in Christ” in the history of the Israelites as descendants of the tradition of Moses. Moses received the Law in glory. This Law enables the people of Israel to remain in covenant with God as God’s people. The glory of Moses’ face and of the Spirit is like a light shining in bright sunlight. While the glory of the Lord is shown through Moses, this glory is being transformed into another degree of glory in the Spirit of the Lord that works through Paul and the “in Christ” Corinthians. Paul wants the “in Christ” Gentiles to see themselves in this tradition of glory and the history of the Israelites. 

People of the Spirit

On the other hand, as he constructs the Corinthians as people of the Spirit, Paul also distinguishes his ministry from the people of Israel who do not recognize Christ or the inclusion of the Gentiles. The people of Israel only recognize the covenant between God and Abraham (Genesis 12 and following) that Abraham’s descendants must be circumcised in the flesh to be God’s people. This is symbolized in the veil over their hearts. But the new covenant with Christ allows for the Gentiles to be grafted into the people of God as descendants through a circumcision of the heart and spirit (see Romans 2:28–29). 

Gloriously transformed

Paul wants the Corinthians to be a part of the people of God, to be transformed from disparate groups into the same image, all reflective of God’s image. All are made into the glorious image of God. This transformation is only possible by seeing the glory of the Lord, reflected in one another. When we feel ourselves to be a part of the people of God, we feel at ease, free to join together in community. While people may come from different backgrounds, lineages, ideologies, nations, ethnicities, genders, political parties, or statuses, through the Spirit of the living Christ all people are transformed into the beloved community. 

Christians today

Christians reading this passage today should take away the idea that when they love and recognize the “other” as reflecting the image of God, it frees them to join with that other as part of the same glorious image and same community. Christians should renounce shameful behaviors of hate that divide the body of Christ, such as denying another person’s inherent worth as created in the image of God. Racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, and nationalism are some examples of these enslaving and hateful movements of division today. 

But in spite of these hateful forces, Paul argues that since we know the truth of the freedom available in the glory of the living Spirit of the Lord, we must not lose hope. We must not lose heart. Life-giving transformation of individuals and the community is ongoing, even if its progress cannot always be seen immediately. Freedom is coming. 

Critical questions

Reading this passage critically inspires questions as to whether Paul goes far enough toward inclusivity. Are there valid reasons that certain members of the community might need distance from others or to form separate community groups, such as concerns about safety or belonging, for example? While Paul’s rhetoric suggests that all are created in the same image, does this same rhetoric negate differences that might be important for maintaining unique identities? There is a difference between unity and uniformity, and it is not always clear which one Paul would like to see, or which one would actually work best for the community.