Metamorphosis and Transfiguration

Transfiguration of the Lord
Dn 1:9-10, 13-14; Ps 97; 2 Pt 1:16-19; Mt 17:1-9

The word ‘transfiguration’ in English is quite specific and almost always points to Jesus’s transfiguration. Given this, I became curious about what the Greek word is and I found that it’s metemorphōthē (μετεμορφώθη), mete or meta meaning ‘beyond’ and morphoun meaning change. This reminded me of the concept of metamorphosis that we learned in science, where ugly crawly caterpillars turn into beautiful butterflies. There, we see how the outward change is total but also points to the potential that existed in the caterpillars and the need for some time of rest or change in a cocoon.

In the random way my mind works, this in turn reminded me of an article I read in the New York Times some months back, where a writer reflected on cocoons and how the reality of what happens within these seemingly serene spaces isn’t quite so peaceful. He described how the cocoon is where a caterpillar digests itself into a ‘gruesome mush’ so that it can reconstruct itself into something else, something better. That’s the process of metamorphosis, a period of struggle and reconstruction.

Jesus’s transfiguration doesn’t show that process but the change that he shows the disciples is so great that they become unsure of what to do. This theophany, or visible manifestation of God’s power, is Jesus demonstrating quite definitively that he is God. What this does, according to many of the Church Fathers, is that it prefigures the resurrection. It’s Jesus giving a preview of the glory of the resurrection, the glory of what God is capable of. Jesus could have gone on the road to Calvary without the transfiguration but I believe it would have been that much harder for the disciples to stay faithful without having seen even that brief moment of God’s glory. We’re all weak human beings and that showing of God’s power would have helped them stay the course.

And so it is with us. We may be in this cocoon that is the present world in pandemic mode, sheltering in place and wondering how things are going to be like. For some, it’s painful and filled with anxiety, wondering how jobs are going to be like. It’s us feeling that we’re reduced to a primordial goo, waiting for God to reach in to reconstruct us. And even as we are in this state of gooeyness, we retain the hope that God’s there with us. Jesus had his own time of suffering and we join whatever suffering that we have with his, looking forward to the time when we can share in his glory, flapping away to a better, brighter pandemic-less (possibly not free) world.