“And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” In the telling of the gospel, as amazing as the story is, neither we nor the disciples should be surprised. The entire arc of Matthew’s gospel points to this moment. Consider that the transfiguration story recalls the baptism of Jesus when the voice from heaven called out: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.”  We hear those exact words again today: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.”

This scene follows just after Peter’s great confession when Jesus has asked “And who do you say that I am?” Peter replied: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” (Mt 16:16)  Although Peter was divinely inspired to confess, he still did not seem to grasp the full significance of that revelation. The transfiguration is its own witness to the fullness of the revelation of Jesus as the Son of God. That revelation should not be viewed as the illumination of the man Jesus with an extrinsic glory but as the momentary uncovering of the Son of God’s own intrinsic glory, which has been temporarily veiled and will be revealed again at the Resurrection and Ascension.

“And he was metamorphoo before them.” It is a word that means to be transformed, to be changed. It is used of Jesus here, but it is also used to describe the continuing transformation in the Christian, who through faith and the gospel, has come to know Jesus in ever deepening ways. The one who is known shapes the one who knows. It is what the Church refers to as becoming imago Christi, the image of Christ.

We are complex people with lots of layers – and that is not a bad thing. There is one thought that the truly transformed Christian has stripped away all the layers so that all that remains is the glory of God. I get the point of such an argument, but it is us with all our layers whom God loves. Maybe a better thought is: does some part of the glory of God shine forth in all the layers that make us up?

One metaphor we use is to describe the different “hats” we wear. The hat worn for home, work, play, the family, church, and the list goes on. Perhaps those layers are revealed in the clothes we wear (his clothes became white as light) and joy revealed in our smile which can light up a room (his face shone like the sun). A question we can ask ourselves is at every layer of who we are is there a radiance and a joy that comes from within us, revealed to the world? Does the Imago Christi shine through?

We are people with lots of layers. Here I am before you dressed in the outer garments of a Catholic priest: chasuble, stole and alb. It is not simply how I dress. It is who I am. In fulfilling those duties am I attentive to being the imago Christi? Is there a sense of joy while celebrating the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, hearing Confessions, blessing homes, or just talking with people after Mass? I know that I feel that inner blessing and joy. But I score pretty high on the introvert scale, maybe I need to work on radiating that joy into the world.

But that is just one layer. Right underneath is the brown habit of my Franciscan Order. I vividly remember coming home from the time of mission in Kenya. We had a three week re-entry program that was held at Holy Name College in Silver Springs, our provincial house of studies. While we had our own program, we shared Mass, prayer, meals and community time with the friars living there. I was struck by the joy that radiated in brothers being together. It was easy to see in them the imago Christi. Hopefully that witness is evident in our life here in that parish. Hopefully people witness the Franciscan spirituality of welcoming, love, humility, simplicity, and encounter us as true brothers to each other and to you.

The next layer? Depends on what year you’re asking about. Broadly speaking it was the uniform of a US Naval Officer and then later the uniform of business.  Looking back, probably not too visible an imago Christi outside of the parish where I worshiped, but at the parish… There was a joy in being a Eucharistic Minister, leading Bible Studies and helping with RCIA, and doing visitations at the local hospital.

Below all that is another layer that reveals my Florida upbringing and years of swimming practice: Khaki shorts, white t-shirt, and shoes that are easily kicked off. That is the layer that is the favorite son of my parents (…I am the only Son…), favorite brother to my sisters Kathy and Patsy, and one of many cousins. It is the layer that has carried life-long friendships. Was there a transformation that was visible to the people in that part of my life? I’d have to ask them.

My dad passed away when I was 20, so by the time I decided to join the Franciscans and become a priest, there came the moment to tell mom – who of course was hoping for grandchildren to carry the family name. Later mom was talking to my oldest sister: “Your brother is joining the Franciscans and is going to become a priest! Did you know about this?” My sister’s response was essentially, “Mom, a blind person could see this coming.” Maybe the Imago Christi was shining forth – at least a little bit the whole time.

We celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord. It is not simply a remembrance of a long ago event, it is a challenge to us. Will we allow the power of Christ to metamorphoo, transform us and all the many “layers of us” so that at each level people see the joy within us and in us gain a glimpse of the image Christi?

There are times I have kept the transformation to myself. There are times the transformation took a backseat to worldly concerns. There are times it has shone forth. Maybe now as a septuagenarian Franciscan brother and priest I am finally figuring it out.

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ help you to become a joyful imago Christi much earlier in your life.