+ The Transfiguration of Our Lord – February 15th, 2026 +
Series A: Exodus 24:8-18; 2 Peter 1:16-21; Matthew 17:1-9
Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church
Milton, WA

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Looking out your window, at a postcard, or a photo, it’s easy to think that the mountains are quiet. Docile dots on a map: Mt. Rainier. Mt. St. Helens. Mt. Adams.
And yet, those lahar sirens don’t fill the valley on the first day of the month because the mountain is always silent. The mountains are not always mute. If we look and listen closely we’ll discover that the mountains are rarely silent.
So it is with the mountains of Holy Scripture. The mountains of God’s word have a story to tell as well.
They tremble with the footsteps of him who treads our enemies under his feet. They’re alive with seismic activity of salvation. Here is the God who comes down: who ascends the hill of the cross and descends into the heart of the earth and rolls the stone away with a mountainous tremble and quake.
There’s Mt. Sinai, where the God of the burning bush and the Red Sea thundered forth and lit up the mountain with his glory, presence, cloud and covenant.
There’s Mt. Tabor, where the God of Sinai stands enfleshed. The embodied incarnate covenant.
And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
Mountains are places where the air is thin, but so is the veil between heaven and earth. Jesus lifts the curtain for a moment. Cracks the lid open on the ark. Jesus’ face is a solar flare of glory. His clothing ablaze with the light brighter than what he first spoke into creation.
And there, standing next to him, are two of the Old Testament’s most famous mountain men. Moses who saw the backside of God’s glory, ate and drank, and spent 40 days on the mountain. Elijah who stood on the mountain trash-talking the prophets of Baal in a fiery divine-duel, and spoiler alert…YHWH wins, just as he does again on Mt. Calvary.
Peter interrupts the majestic moment. “Lord, it’s good that we’re here.” And he’s right. Well, half right. For if Jesus stays on this mountain with Peter, all of our sin stays with us. If Jesus takes shelter on Mt. Tabor he will not be our shelter on Mt. Calvary.
So, what goes up the mountain, must come back down. Mt. Calvary, the cross, has a gravitational pull on Jesus. As good as this mountain is, Jesus must go on to Golgotha. So must Peter. And so must we.
Because the truth is, as Peter and James and John quickly learn, there’s no shelter on the mountain. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re exposed.
And that’s when the cloud descends. God interrupts Peter for a change. This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.
Listen to him when he says…The Son of Man will be handed over. Delivered up to death. Condemned. Crucified. And killed.
Listen to him when he says…destroy this temple – let the mountains melt like wax – and on the third day I will raise it up again.
Listen to him when he says…Rise, and have no fear…I am the resurrection and the life.
For Peter James and John and for us, there is nowhere to hide in the light of his glory, in the holiness of his presence. Nowhere except in the one who hides his holiness in our humanity.
He is not tame, but he is good. He is wild and free, yet a humble servant. He is majestic and mighty, yet he stoops down in the mud.
So Jesus says to his fearful disciples, and to us, the same thing he says to us in his resurrection. Rise. Have no fear. Do not be afraid.
Rise, and have no fear.” And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only.
This is the story that echoes through every hill and holler of Scripture. Over hill and dale, God comes down to lift up. God goes up the mountain and down again, but not alone.
Jesus goes down from this mountain where Jerusalem awaits. Where Pharisees plot. Where disciples will betray and scatter. Where he will hang all alone on the mountain where he is crucified. And yet not alone. Jesus goes up that mountain, and hangs on that cursed timberline for you.
Jesus hangs there, not with Moses and Elijah, but with criminals and sinners. Jesus, once again, is covered by clouds and thick darkness. Only this time, the only voice that’s heard is his: my God, my God, why have you forsaken me. Forgive them. It is finished.
Jesus goes up that mountain to come down. To be with you in your frailty. To sit with you in your shame. To weep with you in your grief. To cry out with you in your anguish. To walk with you in your loneliness. To bleed and suffer and die for you. To pay sin’s wages. To climb the mountain only he could climb for you.
The mountains of Scripture have quite a story to tell. Each mountain has a story to tell. Or rather, each one has the same story to tell, like a never-ending mountain range rising with peak after peak. The hills of Scripture are alive with the sound of mercy and grace and the glad songs of salvation.
They ring out with good news:
That the God who formed the mountains with the word of his mouth shakes the grave open with a word: be of good cheer, your sins are forgiven.
That he who made the heights of the hills and holds them opens his holy hands not with to give you rocks and stones but his body and blood. Like Moses we eat and drink with God on this mountain.
That he who brought Noah’s ark to rest on the mountains of Ararat opens the rock of his side and bathes you in divine grace and goodness.
So, rise, and do not fear. For today, the Lord of the mountains comes down once again. For you.
A blessed Sunday of Transfiguration to each of you…
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.



