“As He was praying, the appearance of His face changed!”
Artists put a halo around Christ’s face in their pictures–but there was no visible halo on the face men saw, as He walked about and did his works of love. Now, however, for a little while the glory broke through his flesh and the disciples saw it. It must have been an experience of great joy to Jesus. That mountain-top reached into heaven that night; and he climbed up out of the mists and shadows–and stood in his native glory for a little while, to be refreshed by the ministry of the heavenly visitants for his dark way of sorrow.
An Alpine traveler tells of climbing one of the mountains in a dense, dripping fog, and standing at last in the clear air, under a cloudless sky. In the valley below him lay the fog, like an ocean of white vapor, and he could hear the chiming of bells, the lowing of cattle, and the sounds of labor coming up from the villages that were hidden beneath. Now and then a bird would dart up out of the mist, fly about a little while in the joyous sunshine, sing a few notes of sweet song, and then fly down again and disappear.
What this brief time of radiance was to the bird, the transfiguration was to our Lord. His earthly life was spent in the valley, beneath the clouds of suffering and sorrow; now for once he climbed up above the mists into the glory of heaven, bathed his soul in its brightness, heard the converse of messengers from his home.