Overlap

READ

The Transfiguration is one of those stories that's easy to rush past, but it's actually a moment where heaven and earth overlap in the most extraordinary way. 

Let’s take a moment to read Mark 9:1-13: 

And he said to them, “Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.”

After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

Suddenly, when they looked around, they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus gave them orders not to tell anyone what they had seen until the Son of Man had risen from the dead. They kept the matter to themselves, discussing what “rising from the dead” meant.

And they asked him, “Why do the teachers of the law say that Elijah must come first?”

Jesus replied, “To be sure, Elijah does come first, and restores all things. Why then is it written that the Son of Man must suffer much and be rejected? But I tell you, Elijah has come, and they have done to him everything they wished, just as it is written about him.”

REFLECT

The timing of this event is perfect. Jesus has just finished telling His disciples about suffering, death, and the cost of following Him. Now He takes three of them up a mountain for what they probably assumed would be a quiet prayer retreat.

Instead, they witness something that would be impossible to fully capture in words. Jesus begins to glow. Not metaphorically—literally. Mark tries his best to describe it: clothes becoming brilliantly white, "whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them." It's as if, for a moment, Jesus' human form becomes transparent to His true nature. The curtain between heaven and earth becomes tissue-paper thin.

Then Moses and Elijah show up. Think about that for a second. These aren't just random biblical celebrities making a cameo appearance. They represent the Law and the Prophets—the entire story of Israel, all pointing to this moment, to Jesus. It's like the whole biblical narrative converging in one scene.

Peter, unsurprisingly, doesn't know what to do with this moment. His response is beautifully human: "Let's build three shelters!" It's such a typical human reaction to a transcendent moment—trying to capture it, contain it, organize it. We do this too, don't we? When we encounter something holy, we want to build a program around it, institutionalize it, make it manageable.

But then the Father speaks: "This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!"

Notice the emphasis isn't on seeing but on listening. This matters. The disciples have just heard Jesus teach about suffering and death, and they didn't want to accept it. Now the Father essentially says, "Pay attention to what He's telling you."

Here's what's fascinating: when it's all over, Mark tells us "they no longer saw anyone with them except Jesus." The spectacular display fades, but Jesus remains. Isn't this true of our own spiritual journey? The mountaintop moments are rare and brief. What remains is Jesus, calling us to follow Him down the mountain, into the ordinary and sometimes difficult valleys of everyday life.

RESPOND

Take a moment to process what God might be leading you to do in light of what you read.

• When was the last time you experienced a "thin moment" where heaven felt unusually close? What's your typical response to holy moments? Do you try to contain them?

• How might God be asking you to simply "listen to Jesus" right now?

REST

Take a moment to rest in God’s presence and consider one thing you can take away from your time reading, then close your devotional experience by praying:

Father, in our world of constant noise and distraction, help us create space to see Jesus more clearly. Give us wisdom to recognize the moments when You pull back the veil. But more than that, teach us to listen—really listen—to Your Son, even when His words challenge our expectations. Thank you that beyond all the spectacular moments, Jesus remains. May we learn to follow Him faithfully, both on the mountaintops and in the valleys. Amen.