Transfiguration and seeing more clearly

All catechesis present the transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain as a miracle.

In reality, what would be more accurately described as a miracle would be his becoming a man to such an extent that, although he was a divine son, he appeared throughout his life as perfectly human to his contemporaries.

Except on that day, on the mountain! 

The miracle of the transfiguration is therefore a reverse miracle. And this is undoubtedly where the real catechesis begins.

When the heavenly voice is heard to say, "This is my Son, the Chosen One", we are given the opportunity to move from our understanding of Jesus' life to our faith in him, and vice versa.

This journey is actually familiar to us; it is our daily spiritual gymnastics as we seek to feel how God personally accompanies us.

A good example of this is the American TV drama about Jesus, “The Chosen”. It tries to give the gospel message a historical body in accordance with the daily life of ancient Palestine.

On this Second Sunday of Lent, this news is given to us; it is neither Moses nor Elijah, but God himself who instructs us.

Jesus is the link, in the strongest sense of the word, between us and God in Heaven.

Contemplating an icon

In the Eastern tradition, every icon writer is initiated to this art by the scene of the transfiguration, for it is the work that dominates all others.

Indeed, each icon has the mission of making God visible through the scene it depicts. Each icon is, in a way, a mini-transfiguration. It invites the person praying to be transfigured.

Contemplating an icon is a way of entering into ourselves to discover under the effect of God's light how we pass from our life to God's, and even more precisely said, how we are united by our life to God's.

The Belgian artist René Magritte (1898-1967) helped us on this path without necessarily wanting to. He created a self-portrait in 1937 while painting a bird in full flight.

But, the problem is, how can such a movement be placed in front of him in order to capture it?

Magritte's painting presents a simple egg on the canvas, as if to tell us that the genius of the painter is to see what the eye does not yet see, what in a certain way is anticipated. He called this painting Clairvoyance.

In our turn, in prayer, our faith leads us along the path.

We too pass from the egg to the eagle, from the vicissitudes of history enameled with images of human disfigurements of all kinds to the hope of another reality in action, certainly hidden but real, the Kingdom of God.

Far from being a blindness, believing is then our singular way of seeing more clearly.

Arnaud Alibert is a presbyter and superior of the Assumptionist Community in the suburbs of Lyon (France).