The Light that Transforms Us
Excerpt of “The Light that Transforms Us” preached on February 15, 2026
Exodus 24:12-18 | Matthew 17:1-9
Have you ever thought about climbing Mount Everest — tallest mountain in the entire world? The first ones to achieve it were Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay in 1953. What an incredible feat this was — climbing the tallest mountain in the world and surviving! There’s something about being up on the mountain that changes you. On mountains, perspective becomes clearer. Scripture tells us that when God calls someone up a mountain, it’s not just to see the world around from a different height — it is to be changed. Our texts this morning, on this Transfiguration Sunday, are both from the mountain. The first is Moses receiving the Ten Commandments, with so many parallels to the transfiguration of Jesus.
It’s only Moses who makes it to the top of Mt. Sinai, where the cloud covered it. I’d like to read again Exodus 24:16, “and the glory of the Lord settled on Mount Sinai. For six days the cloud covered the mountain, and on the seventh day the Lord called to Moses from within the cloud. To the Israelites the glory of the Lord looked like a consuming fire on top of the mountain. Then Moses entered the cloud as he went on up the mountain. And he stayed on the mountain forty days and forty nights.”
Can you imagine looking up at the top of this mountain, not able to see your leader but only to see a consuming fire? The fear, the doubt, the worry. All they see is a cloud and then fire. The Israelites’ perspective is quite different from that of the elders, and even Joshua. But, it’s even more different than the perspective of Moses. Here he was waiting for six days — on the top of a mountain. This wasn’t him just sitting there doing nothing. Waiting is an act of patience, of perseverance, or preparation, and of faithfulness. And on the seventh day the Lord called Moses into his presence and he stayed there for forty days and forty nights. It’s a moment that only Moses encountered first hand, his experience was completely different from those who were on the outside looking in. The gap between them is a great divide.
Jesus also waited six days between taking Peter, James, and John with him up on the mountain. As Jesus was transfigured, the cloud is present, even Moses makes an appearance along with Elijah. Even the emotion of fear is present for those who witnessed it. At Sinai, God reveals a covenant — who the people are and how they are to live. On the mountain with Peter, James, and John, God reveals identity — who Jesus is and why we must follow. The cloud isn’t there to frighten, it’s there to frame the moment. And the fire that appears with Moses isn’t there to consume, it’s there to declare holiness. These mountains are not about a place or even the height of power, the mountains are about bringing clarity.
I think for many of us, we lose sight of what it means to go into the unknown. We can see pictures or videos and know what to expect in almost any situation, removing the obstacle of fear. And for many of us, that helps deal with the reality of the anxiety we carry. But, I’m not sure it offers us the clarity we need experience being on the mountain.
Recently I found myself in a room full of church leaders facing change. None of us had certainty. But we had clarity about who we were called to serve — and courage to move forward without melting our anxiety into something easier. Something that I heard when I was there that kept coming up again and again was the scripture of the Israelites and the Golden Calf. While Moses is on the mountain, in the cloud, in the very presence of God, the people down at the bottom grow restless. He’s up there for forty days and forty nights. The fire that once inspired awe and wonder, reignites anxiety. Their waiting isn’t preparation like it was for Moses, it becomes a burden, unbearable for them. And so in Exodus 32, they gather their gold — the very treasure God helped them carry out of Egypt — and they melt it down into something they can see, something they can manage, something they can control. The Golden Calf was not simply rebellion; it was fear they could see. It was impatience with a shape. It was the baggage they carried with them out of Egypt — the need for certainty, the need for something visible, the need to secure themselves when God felt distant. And when Moses descends the mountain carrying the covenant written on stone, it shatters at the base — not because God failed, but because the people were still holding on too much. Sometimes those sacred cows that we hold onto, keep us from experiencing God and the vastness of the kingdom. Perhaps the reason we struggle on the mountain is not that God is unclear, but that we bring too much with us.
The context of these sacred cows came up because there are so many churches who hold onto everything and in doing so, they fail to make room to experience God to do something new. Too many memories tied to a space, too many traditions to release, too many structures that help us feel in control when God is leading us into something we cannot yet see. When you’re climbing a mountain, there is of course supplies you carry with you to sustain you over the course of your journey. But there comes a time when you use what you have, you have to discard what is left behind somewhere. Otherwise, it’s even harder to continue climbing.
It’s often tempting to recreate what we are familiar with rather than leaning towards the unknown. Even looking at what is holy can induce fear. But praise God that we are not alone. Our Creator continues to create. The God who brought forth light from darkness is the same God who is incarnate among us. Sometimes we just have to let go of the baggage we carry to reach the top of the mountain and experience God’s goodness that sustains us.
But we don’t stay on that mountain long. Moses may have stayed for forty days, but he eventually came down. And when he did, he was carrying stone tablets — the very word of God written by God’s own hand. And before they were ever fully received, they were broken at the base of the mountain. Not because the law was flawed or because God failed, but because the people were still holding onto their fear.
At the Transfiguration, the Law and the Prophets (Moses and Elijah) stand beside Jesus. And then they fade as the voice says, “Listen to him.” That is not accidental. The clarity of the mountain is not about instructions. The clarity is a person.
We do not descend from this mountain trying harder to preserve what we can manage. We descend following Christ into places we cannot manage. That’s the difference.
The Israelites built something they could see when God felt distant. And the disciples are told to trust someone they cannot fully understand. One path leads to control and the other leads to obedience.
As we step into Lent in just a few days, I don’t want the question for us to be what programs we resurrect or what memories we protect. That’s what has shaped us to get to this point in the journey. Instead, the question is simple, but so difficult: will we listen to Jesus? Will we loosen our grip on what gives us visible reassurance long enough to follow where he leads? Because the mountain was never about staying in the cloud. It was about being clear enough about who Jesus is that we can walk back down without needing a sacred cow to hold onto.
May we experience God up on the mountain. May we release what we cling to out of anxiety. And may we listen to Jesus who leads us forward. Amen.
