I preached two different versions of this sermon this week. On Sunday, August 3, I preached a version at all three of our services at Church of the Good Shepherd in Augusta, GA with a mashup of Barbenheimer, the Transfiguration, and baptism. This version of the sermon was preached on the Feast of the Transfiguration as part of our Opening Faculty Eucharist with Episcopal Day School.
In the summer of 2023, America went to the movies. Not just for popcorn and previews, but for a pink plastic existential crisis and a three-hour nuclear nightmare. And we loved it.
The internet dubbed it Barbenheimer—a portmanteau based on the shared release date of Greta Gerwig’s Barbie and Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer. It was marketed as “the destroyer of box offices and savior of cinemas,” and it did not disappoint. The two films grossed a combined $2.42 billion worldwide.
Many moviegoers spent the day at the theater watching both films back-to-back as a double feature.
Not everyone thought this was wise. Stuart Heritage of The Guardian wrote, “Go and see Barbie. Go and see Oppenheimer. But for the love of all that is holy, please do the sensible thing and see them on different days. Honestly, your nervous system will thank you.”
I took his advice. First Barbie, then Oppenheimer, twenty-four hours apart.
One film featured a dream house, rollerblades, and a glitter-drenched musical number that somehow made ennui feel like euphoria. The other featured quantum physics, moral collapse, and a mushroom cloud that will haunt you long after the credits roll. Together, Barbenheimer became an unlikely parable—vibrant, vivid color and black-and-white despair—both asking: what does it mean to be human?
One critic said, “One [is] a candy-coated introspection of the human condition, the other an existentialist deterioration of morality.” Both depict the consequences of human sin—though in radically different ways. And both, if we’re being honest, have a lot in common with the school year. There will be moments when, like Stereotypical Barbie, a child suddenly asks, “Do you guys ever think about dying?”—and you’ll be forced into an answer. Other times it’s glitter and glitz and good fun. And sometimes it feels like a bomb has gone off in the classroom—whether from chaos, emotion, or both. And in those rare yet real moments, you may feel the need to become the destroyer.
But Barbenheimer wasn’t just about liking or ranking movies. It was about “[seeing] it together… [having a shared] experience, made all the more transcendent by having it together.”
This morning, we too gather in a space designed for shared wonder. The theological connections between Barbenheimer, the Transfiguration, and the beginning of a new school year are endless: dazzling light, divine presence, questions of identity and mortality, the mystery of being human. What makes this moment transcendent is both the brilliance of what we behold—and the fact that we are beholding it together.
Luke’s biography of Jesus – what we call a gospel – is our text today.
Per usual, we enter a story already in motion. Our passage begins, “Now about eight days after these sayings…” Stop. What sayings?
8 days earlier, Jesus was alone with the disciples in Caesarea Philippi, and he asked them, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” The answers poured in: perhaps Elijah the mighty prophet, or the eccentric and beheaded John the Baptizer, or another prophet raised from the dead. The crowds clearly grasps something of Jesus’ ministry, but they don’t see the full picture.
Jesus turns to his disciples and says, “But who do you say that I am?”
This is one of the most important questions in all of Scripture, and certainly one to which we must all give an answer. My goal with chapel this year is to help our students faithfully answer this question.
C.S. Lewis famously said that there are three potential answers to this question…I happen to believe there are four. He is either Liar, Lunatic, Legend, or Lord. We will unpack that throughout the year.
Peter gets it right: he chooses “Lord.” He says, “You are the Messiah of God.” 10 points to Peter. Messiah means holy and anointed one. Like all of 1st century Israel, Peter thinks the Messiah would vanquish Rome, cleanse the Temple, and restore the nation of Israel.
For Jesus, however, the role of Messiah is far thicker, far more robust than that. The Messiah must suffer, be rejected, be killed, and then be raised three days later.
It was eight days after all of this that Peter, James, and John went up the mountain with Jesus to pray. I want to highlight three important details for you.
- BIG things happen when Peter, James, and John are alone with Jesus. They were there when Jesus healed Peter’s mother in law; when he raised a girl from the dead; and when he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane.
- God routinely revealed his power and glory on mountaintops. He provides the ram in the thicket for Abraham on Mt. Moriah; YHWH descends in power and glory on Mt. Sinai; he rained down holy fire on the prophets of Baal on Mt. Carmel.
- The purpose of this trip is to pray. This excursion was not a classroom session on the theory of prayer but an experiential teaching moment. The disciples were invited to learn-by-watching as Jesus was present with the Father.
While Jesus was praying, “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning.” This is the same term used to describe the glory of God. In and through Jesus, the glory of God is on full display. Not near Jesus, not behind Jesus, but in and through Jesus because in Jesus “the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.”
We read about Moses’ small taste of this in Exodus 34. When he came down from Mt. Sinai his face was glowing and radiating with the glory of the LORD for he had been in the presence of the High and Holy One.
Jesus is thus transfigured on the mountain. As a fellow Gryffindor, I hate to be the one to disagree with Hermione Granger, but Transfiguration is not the same as transformation. To be transformed is to become, to be transfigured is to be revealed and unveiled.
Jesus doesn’t become glorious on the mountain. He has always been glorious, from before the beginning of time, from before the foundations of the world. In the Transfiguration, we find the veil being pulled back and Jesus is seen and revealed as he truly is! Twenty points to Good Shepherd…
Before our eyes can adjust to the dazzling brilliance of Jesus’s glory and beauty, Moses and Elijah enter the chat. This is as big of a deal as Tiger winning the Masters in 2001 and completing his own “Tiger Slam” with Nicklaus, Palmer, Player, Nelson, and Snead all present.
Moses and Elijah are Hall of Famers, Israel’s GOATs. They represent the law and the prophets, and therefore the whole of Israel’s faith and beliefs. Moses was the one who received the Law, who shared the Law, and who interpreted the Law for all of Israel. Elijah was Israel’s greatest prophet who never died and for whom Israel was awaiting his return.
And yet Jesus is greater than both of them!
He is the one who fulfills the law;
He is the one who has been prophesied about;
He is the one through whom covenant made becomes covenant kept;
He is the one in whom the glorious kingdom of God is revealed.
Moses and Elijah aren’t there as theological eye candy – that’s why Joe and Bunny are here; they aren’t Gosling’s Ken to Robbie’s Barbie. They also “appeared in glory,” speaking with Jesus about “his exodus, which he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem.” We must view the dazzling brightness of the transfiguration through the lens of the crucifixion and resurrection.
The Transfiguration is the bridge between his ministry in Galilee and his mission in Jerusalem. In fact, in Luke 9:51 we find out that Jesus has “set his face like flint toward Jerusalem.” Everything he does after descending this mountain takes him one step closer to the cross.
The disciples are stirred out of their sleepy stupor by this dazzling and sensational display of light. Per usual, it’s Peter who speaks first. You all have at least one Peter in your class: Bold and impetuous, shoot first and aim later, open mouth and insert foot.
Peter thinks it would be good for them to build Mojo Dojo Casa Houses on the mountain. While Peter’s idea is fully aligned with Israel’s history, it is severely misguided. He has already told Jesus that he cannot die. It would appear that he intends to keep Jesus up on the mountain, out of the fray, out of harm’s way, away from fulfilling his Messianic mission.
Peter gets it horribly wrong. He loses the 10 points he had won 8 days before.
Finally, a cloud descended and overshadowed them. God showed up in clouds routinely through the Old Testament: the pillar of cloud guiding Israel by day, the dark and terrible cloud over Sinai, and the cloud of presence when Moses climbed the mountain to get the law.
Jesus and the disciples are in the present of the Father! They are having the truest mountaintop experience with the most really real reality of the world. And then there’s the Voice.
At Jesus’ baptism, God said, “You are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”
Here he says, “This is my Son, the Chosen, listen to him!”
The first instance is an affirmation but the second is a declaration and command. It isn’t a suggestion or recommendation it is an imperative to listen to Jesus’ talk of his impending death in Jerusalem!
I think there is something here for educators. Some moments require an affirmation with your students: you are child of God; that Christ’s love for you is KENough; I’m proud of you. Other moments require the command: listen to me; pay attention; stop hitting your neighbor. Part of educating – and parenting and priesting – is knowing which moment needs an affirmation, which needs a declaration, and which requires both with a pivot.
Peter, James, and John are transformed by the transfiguration. As they descend with Jesus, they journey toward the cross. To be a disciple is, therefore, to listen to Jesus, to obey Jesus, and to follow Jesus.
That’s a lot of theology packed into 9 verses. But what does it all mean for you?
Being that we are all educators here, I want to offer five points of reflection drawn from the Transfiguration—five touchstones for the year ahead.
First, shared experience. The Transfiguration is a moment of shared wonder—Peter, James, and John, together beholding the glory of Christ. In the same way, chapel throughout the school year is a shared space of encounter. We gather on holy ground not just to teach or to supervise, but to behold—to survey the wondrous cross and the glory of the risen Christ. The Transfiguration gives us a theological peaky-boo behind the veil—showing us that through his death and resurrection, Jesus has undone death by his own death.
Second, the ministry of presence. The glory of God is not distant. It draws near. Jesus tabernacles among us. Or in Eugene Peterson’s words, “The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.” This year will hold its own mountaintops and valleys—and your calling is to be present through them all. Present to your students. Present to your colleagues. Present to yourselves. Not perfectly, but faithfully.
Third, formation through illumination. On the mountain, the disciples saw Jesus as he truly is—not as they imagined, but as he is. You are called to the same work: to help students see.
Not just Singapore Math, but goodness.
Not just answers, but truth.
Not just facts, but beauty.
Your vocation is to help pull back the veil and help form hearts and minds. In a culture of confusion and distraction, you are shining and sharing the light.
Fourth, obedience to the voice. The Father’s voice breaks through the cloud with one clear command: “This is my Son, the Chosen—listen to him.” It’s the only imperative in the whole scene. Listening is hard. It takes humility and stillness and discernment. But it’s the foundation of everything else. If you listen to Jesus—really listen—it will shape how you lead, how you speak, how you respond, how you love.
Listening to Christ leads us not to exalt ourselves, but to walk the path he walked—a path marked by humility and love. That’s why Paul tells us to have the same mind that was in Christ: to be humble to serve and united in love. That’s how we carry the glory into the world.
Fifth and finally, descend with purpose. The mountain was not the end—it was the beginning. Jesus comes down the mountain and sets his face toward Jerusalem. He moves from transfigured glory to crucified glory, from revelation to redemption. The same is true for us. Your job isn’t to build tents and keep your students in mountaintop moments. You are not leaving the glory behind. You are carrying it into lesson plans. Into carpool. Into hallway conversations. Into quiet acts of kindness. Your job is to walk with them, helping them carry it into ordinary, everyday life.
So, as we begin this new year, remember:
You are not alone; we share this holy calling together.
God is with us; be present with one another.
Help your students see truly and live faithfully.
Listen to Christ and let his voice shape your work.
And don’t stay on the mountain. Carry the glory into every ordinary moment.
Amen.
Porter C. Taylor 