Christ the King Epiphany Church, Wilbraham

The Rev. Martha S. Sipe

February 15, 2026 / Transfiguration

Matthew 17:1-9

Who here remembers “stop, drop, and roll?”  It was the way that, starting in the 1970’s, children were taught how to respond if their clothing should catch fire.  Fortunately, today many fabrics are fire-retardant, and I don’t know if “stop, drop, and roll” is still even a part of fire safety education, but it sure was when I was a kid.

Another three-word safety slogan that I learned as a kid was “stop, look, and listen.”  Anyone remember that sign at railroad crossings?  I have since learned that other children of my generation did not learn that slogan . . . because it was actually discontinued in the early 1900’s.  But in my parents’ household, we were interested in all things train-related, and I vaguely recollect that we had one of those signs in our basement.  “Stop, look, and listen” signs pre-dated automatic arms and flashing lights and the now familiar X-shaped railroad crossing signs.  They are relics from an earlier time when everything (including traffic) moved more slowly, but they clearly alerted the reader to exactly what should be done at the crossing, whether you were in a car or a horse and buggy, on a bike or on foot:  stop before proceeding, look to see if trains are approaching, and listen for the train whistle or horn – two long blasts, one short, and one long – which, to this day, is still the signal of a train approaching a crossing.

I always think about “Stop, look, and listen” on Transfiguration – because it’s exactly what Peter, James, and John did on the mountain with Jesus.  First, they stopped their usual routine.  With Jesus, they took a break from their teaching and healing, and climbed to the top of the mountain – the place where the ancients believed that communion with God was more likely.  Then suddenly, while they were looking, they saw Jesus transfigured before them.  His appearance seemed to change so that his face glowed like the sun and his clothes became bright as light, and while they were looking, they also saw Moses (the embodiment of the Law) and Elijah (a representative of the prophets).  That means that when they looked, they saw a revelation of the fullness of God.  So they stopped their daily routine, found themselves looking at God, and then from the cloud, they heard God directing them to listen to Jesus.  

Stop, look, and listen:  that’s what the disciples did.  And that’s what we are invited to do, especially as we approach the crossing between the seasons.  Transfiguration is a kind of hinge between the season of Epiphany and the season of Lent.  All throughout the season of Epiphany, we have followed along with Jesus as he has called his disciples and begun his ministry.  We have heard stories of and teachings about light and miracles of healing, all leading up to the brightest light and greatest miracle we have seen from Jesus thus far.  But this story marks a crossroads for Jesus.  It was great to be on the mountaintop, communing with God; now it was time to come down from the mountain and into the valley of real-life suffering, rejection, and death.  When he came down from the mountain, he changed direction and began moving toward Jerusalem.  This was undoubtedly a time of danger for him as the pressure from the religious authorities continued to mount and he turned to face that danger squarely.  

Today we, too, are at a crossroads – a crossroads of the seasons.  It is time for us who follow Jesus to change directions, to come down off the mountain where, like Peter, James, and John, we’d love to linger, basking in the love and light of Jesus.  But he calls us with him to follow into the trenches.  This change of direction does not pose a threat for us as it did for Jesus, however.  For us, it offers an opportunity – the opportunity to stop, look, and listen more closely to find what God is doing in us and the world.

• We can stop our usual routine and add a pause to our day to bring us closer to God.  Maybe your pause will be to think about those who are struggling to thrive, or to reflect upon Jesus’ love and sacrifice for us, or to add more prayer to your daily routine.  The church has traditionally called these disciplines almsgiving, fasting, and prayer, and they are all worthy things to stop and do.
• We can intentionally look around to see where God is and what God is doing in our world.  Although we don’t really see much evidence just yet, before Lent is over, we will see the world coming back to life with Spring.  Is that not God at work in the wonder of creation?  We can look around and see what God is doing in and through the people in this congregation:  the generosity, the support, the advocacy, the love.  Is that not God at work through us?  And we can look – though we might have to look hard – to see God at work in the rest of the world.  The news seems so dour, so dangerous, so devoid of hope; but it isn’t.  If you look, you will see God still at work, bringing the kingdom near.  Don’t forget to look so that you can see, and so that you can join in in the work of helping the vulnerable and honoring the dignity of all people.
• And we can listen to hear God’s voice.  God is speaking to us all the time – through the scriptures, through each other, and through prayer.  But in order to hear God’s voice, we must listen.

We’re at a crossroads, friends.  We can choose not to change anything at all about the way we live our faith.  We can pay absolutely no attention to Lent whatsoever.  And it will change God’s love for us not at all.  Or, we can respond to the invitation to stop, look, and listen:  to stop going on with life as usual, to look and find God in our midst, and to listen to hear what God is calling us to do.  Neither will those things change God’s attitude toward us.  But it just might help us to be more aware of God’s unfathomable love for us.  And it just might allow us to be drawn into closer communion with the One who did, and would still do, absolutely anything and everything for us.  Stop, look, and listen – not to be protected from danger, but to be drawn into the light and love of Jesus Christ.