By Bishop Sam Rodman
The following is adapted from a sermon preached at St. Matthias’ and St. Paul’s, Louisburg on February 15, 2026.
The story of the Transfiguration has all the elements of a great drama, including special effects. Jesus is on a mountain praying. It should be noted that there is nothing unusual about this. Jesus is always going off to pray. But this time he invites Peter, James and John to go with him. And then things begin to get interesting.
Jesus’ clothes become white as a flash of lightning, and he is joined on the mountain by Moses and Elijah. The three of them are engaged in conversation. Peter speaks up, though he really doesn’t know what he is talking about. He suggests a way to commemorate this event by building three dwellings. He tries to capture a moment that cannot really be captured. (Were Peter alive and this happening today, he probably would have asked for a selfie with Jesus, Moses and Elijah.)
But here is my favorite part of the story. While Peter was still speaking, the clouds descend, there is a roll of thunder and the disciples hear a voice saying, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, listen to him.” The next thing they know, Moses and Elijah are gone, and they are again alone with Jesus. And he charges them to say nothing to anyone about this until he has been raised from the dead.
The moment when the cloud descends and the voice speaks is what I like to call a holy interruption.
We know something about holy interruptions. We all have them. They’re the moments in life where something happens unexpectedly, breaking into our day, into our plans, even into the flow of a conversation. And it turns out that interruption is actually a gift or a sign, or what we might later recognize as a “divine intervention.”
Inconvenience or Interruption
As I was walking through my neighborhood in Raleigh one afternoon, I came upon a truck at the intersection of a side street. It was stopped in the middle of the road, and there did not seem to be anyone in the driver’s seat. As I passed by the front of the truck, I saw the driver bent over inspecting the right front tire. “Got a flat?” I called out. He waved me over, and as I drew closer, he stood up, and I saw that the whole wheel had disconnected from the axle and the truck was actually resting on the end of the axle itself.
“How did that happen? Did you hit something?” I asked.
He shook his head, “No, as I was rolling to stop at this intersection, it just fell off.” He went on to say, “Thank God this happened here! I was on my way to Charlotte. Can you image if this had come off on I- 40, going 70 miles an hour?” We both shook our heads.
We agreed this unforeseen breakdown could have been much worse, even deadly. An unexpected inconvenience became a holy interruption. Maybe even a divine intervention.
Transfiguration, Resurrection and Transformation
One of the ways to read the Bible is to listen for the word or phrase that grabs our attention or even stops us in our tracks. It feels like an interruption of the Scripture, where the Holy Spirit seems to be speaking directly to our hearts. And when it happens, take that word or phrase and meditate on it, and pray with it, with intention and focus.
When I was living in Massachusetts, one of my favorite retreat places was Emery House in West Newbery. Emery House is a converted farm run by the brothers of the Society of St. John the Evangelist.
There is a chapel attached to the farmhouse, and just to the right of the chapel door is an icon of the Transfiguration that hangs above the stoup containing the water for blessing oneself as you enter. I remember I always said a silent prayer as I entered, that in the service, we would be transformed by the prayers we shared in that sacred space.
One time I noticed there was a Greek word written on the icon. The word was metamorpho, from which we get the word metamorphosis, a word that means dramatic change. Every time I entered the chapel after that, I would look for the word metamorpho written on the icon.
The story of Jesus’ transfiguration points to the power of God to bring about dramatic change: in Jesus, in us, in the church and in the world. For some, the Transfiguration is a foreshadowing of Jesus’ resurrection.
In the context of Matthew’s version of the story, there is a sense that this story is intimately connected to Jesus’ resurrection because Peter, James and John are charged to tell no one what they have seen until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead. Resurrection might just be the ultimate transfiguration.
But what does that mean for us here and now? Transfiguration and resurrection are connected to what we call transformation. And transformation is at the heart of our journey of faith. As disciples who follow Jesus, we are always on a path of transformation, a path that leads to change.
Of course, the corollary here is that we don’t like change. We resist it. As I share this on the cusp of Lent, the Gospel reminds us that change is coming. The whole season of Lent is dedicated to repentance, amendment of life, to the opportunity and gift of redirection, of change, of second chances and transformation. But our nature is to resist.
The reality is that our resistance to change does not serve us well. In nature, change and adaptation are the ways that living things survive and thrive. We are no different. We are made in such a way that without change, we stagnate and perish. Change is, in fact, our path to life, health and wholeness.
The deeper promise of the Transfiguration is that in this sea of change, transformation is not just for individuals. The transformation signaled by Jesus’ transfiguration is also for communities, the church and for the world. It is very much connected to our identity in the church as the Body of Christ. The power that changes Jesus’ appearance in the Transfiguration is the same power that transforms us as the church into the Body of Christ.
Jesus’ transfiguration shows us we are made for change. It is in our DNA. The call of God will take us to places we would never have asked to go or imagined we might be called. This is a gift. We are invited to embrace it, freely and fully, just as Jesus did. We need to listen to Jesus and follow his example.
One of my favorite quotations attributed to Mahatma Ghandi is, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” His actual words were, “We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body.”
The two statements are related, though they are not exactly the same. But they both shed some light on the story from our Gospel for the last Sunday after the Epiphany: the story of Jesus’ transfiguration.
“Do not be afraid,” Jesus says. Do not be afraid of change. Change is necessary. Change is part of who we are and how we are made. Change leads to transformation, and transformation is Jesus’ gift to us.
The Ultimate Transfiguration
When I ask what a bishop’s first responsibility is, many say it is to guard the unity of the church. Others say it is to nurture the people in the riches of God’s grace. Both of these responses are from the service for the Ordination of a Bishop. And they are part of the call of a bishop. But historically speaking, a bishop’s first responsibility is to bear witness to the resurrection of Jesus.
Resurrection is the ultimate transfiguration. It is the ultimate holy interruption. It is the quintessential divine intervention.
What will your resurrection be in your congregation in the coming months? How will the season of Lent transfigure and transform you? What are the ways you will respond to the holy interruptions that come your way, that redirect you? How will they change you? How will they challenge you? How will they set you free to become a church that looks more like Jesus?
Resurrection is Jesus’ gift to us. It is the gift that empowers us to be the change the world needs, the church needs, and that we all need to see. Amen.
________________________________________________Bishop Sam Rodman is the XII bishop of the Diocese of North Carolina.
