What Does Matthew 17:2 Mean?

(2) **And was transfigured before them.**—Elsewhere in the New Testament (with the exception of the parallel, Mark 9:2) the word is used only in its spiritual sense, and is there rendered “transformed.” St. Luke does not use the word, but describes the change which it implies, “the fashion of His countenance became other than it had been” (Luke 9:29). He adds the profoundly significant fact that this was while He was in the act of prayer. It was in that act of communion with His Father that the divine glory flowed out into visible brightness. Transcendent as the manifestation was, it has its lower analogies in the radiance which made the face of Stephen “as the face of an angel” (Acts 6:15); yet more in the glory which shone on the face of Moses when he came down from the mount (Exodus 34:29); in some faint measure, in what may be called the metamorphic power of prayer which invests features that have no form or comeliness with the rapture of devout ecstacy. And it is no over-bold speculation to see in the fact thus noted that which gives its meaning to the Transfiguration as a stage in the training of the disciples. Prayers like those which were offered for Peter that his “faith might not fail” (Luke 22:31-32) at least suggest something as to the intercession of the Master for His disciples, and this, we must remember, was a crisis in their spiritual history. They had risen to the highest faith; they had been offended by the announcement of His rejection, His sufferings, His death. Something was needed which might sustain their faith, on which they might look back in after years as the earnest of a future glory. It was well for them that they should, at least once in His life of lowliness, gaze on the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father (John 1:14), and feel that they were not “following cunningly-devised fables,” but had been “eye-witnesses of His majesty” (2Peter 1:16). To those who believe that our Lord’s human nature was in very deed, sin only excepted, like unto ours, it will not seem over-bold to suggest that for Him too this might have been a time of conflict and of trial, a renewal of the Temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 16:23), an anticipation of that of the agony of Gethsemane, and that even for Him, in his humanity, there might be in the excellent glory and in the voice from heaven the help and comfort which strengthened Him for the cross and passion. Following the narrative in its details, we may trace its several stages in some such sequence as follows:—After six days, spent apparently with their Lord in the mountain district near Cæsarea Philippi, but not in the work of preaching or working miracles, the rest of the disciples are left at the foot of the mountain, and the three follow Him, as the evening closes, to its summit. There, as afterwards in Gethsemane, He withdraws from them “about a stone’s throw” (Luke 22:41), and they “watch with Him.” and gaze on Him, as He, standing or kneeling (the first was, we must remember, the more common attitude of prayer, Luke 18:11), intercedes for them and for Israel, and, we may add, for mankind. And then, as they gaze, form and features shine with a new glory, bright as the sun, as though the Shechinah cloud had wrapt Him round. Even His garments are “white as the light,” “white as snow” (the reading in St. Mark is doubtful, but if genuine the snows of Hermon may have suggested the comparison), as St. Mark adds with his usual descriptive vividness, “so as no fuller on earth can whiten them.” Nothing, however, it may be added, suggests the vision of three forms floating in the air with which Raffaelle’s glorious picture has made us familiar.