“And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light” (Matt. 17:1-2; cf. 17:1-9). 

There are moments in Scripture when heaven peels back the veil and let us glimpse the glory that has always been. The Transfiguration of Messiah Yeshua/Jesus is one of those moments. The many times I’ve taught on this event, the focus was on the revelation of who Yeshua is; but it is also a revelation of why He chose these three disciples to witness it.

Matthew tells us that “after six days, Yeshua/Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves.” What happened next was not an accident. It was intentional revelation of the fullness of the Godhead bodily that would also be formational and preparatory for Peter, James and John.

Peter, James, and John formed Yeshua’s inner circle. This does not mean that they were more loved as compared to the others, but they were entrusted with greater responsibility. Before they could carry the weight of leadership after Jesus’ ascension, they needed a revelation of who He truly is.

On the mountain, they saw: His face shining like the sun. His garments gleaming with heavenly light. Moses and Elijah speaking with Him. The Father’s voice declaring, “This is My beloved Son … listen to Him.”

This was not a mystical experience reserved for the most spiritual among the disciples. It was preparation. Leaders cannot shepherd others into a glory they themselves have never seen. Yeshua was forming them for the future: Pentecost, persecution, and the birth of a global Messianic community.

Yeshua’s choices are never random. Each disciple carried a unique weakness that required a unique encounter. Peter, bold but unstable, needed a revelation that would anchor him when his own failures came. James, destined to be the first apostolic martyr, needed courage rooted in the certainty of Messiah’s glory. John, the disciple of love, needed a vision that would shape his lifelong unshakable testimony of Yeshua’s divinity in the face of proto-Gnostic infiltration into the messianic community.

The Transfiguration was not only about Yeshua being revealed; it was about these men being transformed.

Yeshua “led them up a high mountain.” Revelation often requires ascent. Not because God hides Himself on a high mountain, but because “the climb” refines and purifies our attention. The mountains of life become a place where distractions fall away, and only the voice of the Father remains.

Peter, James, and John followed Yeshua upward, in this case physically, but also spiritually, and prophetically. The glory they witnessed was not for the crowds, but for the mission that Jesus would send Peter, James and John on. It was not a mission that would remain on the mountain nestled between three tabernacles, He would lead them through some deep, dark valleys. 

Soon these three would see Jesus sweating blood in Gethsemane (Matt. 26:37). They would see Him arrested, beaten, and crucified. They would believe that the messianic hope had ended. Nevertheless, the Transfiguration was heaven’s antidote to despair.

Before they saw Jesus in weakness, they saw Him in glory. Before they saw Him on the cross, they saw Him crowned with light. Before they saw Him die, they saw Him standing with Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets bowing to the One who fulfills them. This moment was a prophetic anchor: the suffering Servant is also the radiant King.

The cloud overshadowed them, and the Father spoke: “This is My beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.” This was not a suggestion. It was appointing. The Father was redirecting their ears, their loyalties, and their expectations. Moses and Elijah fade. The bright cloud lifts. And then, only Yeshua remains.

This is discipleship in its purest form: when all else fades, only the Messiah stands before us.

Yeshua still invites His disciples up the mountain. Our mountains are not always the same. The way up can be exhausting, but when we reach the top, He reveals Himself in ways that prepare them for the unexpected valleys down below.

The Transfiguration teaches us that His glory precedes our calling, His revelation precedes responsibility, and intimacy with Him precedes our godly impact on others. Yeshua takes us higher so that when life and ministry bring us lower, we remember the One whose face shines like the sun. When the apostle John was isolated on the isle of Patmos, as the revelation opens, he sees that same glorified face, as he writes, “and His face was like the sun shining in full strength” (Rev. 1:16). What a comfort that must have been, just before he received the revelation of the end, and the renewal of all things. Amen.

Maranatha. Shalom. 

 

Gratitude, Trust, and Faithfulness

The apostle Paul writes, “Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world…” (Phil. 2:14–15).

Some years ago, when teaching the weekly Torah portion, presumably touching on the subject of the Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Canaanites, Hivites, and Jebusites, I added a people-group not included in this list, the “Murmurite.” To this day I am not sure where the thought originated, perhaps from my own experience and time spent in the camp of the “Murmurites.” 

When the children of Israel began to murmur in the wilderness, Moses responded, “Your murmurings are not against us, but against the Lord” (Ex. 16:8). What did he mean? 

A murmur‑ite is my name for that subtle, creeping spiritual parasite that feeds on dissatisfaction, whispers complaint, and drains joy. It thrives in the shadows of the heart, where disappointment, impatience, and fear mingle; and it disguises itself as harmless honesty. I know the signs and implications of murmuring, as at different seasons in life it was like a second fluent language. 

That being said, Scripture is clear: murmuring is not a minor flaw, it erodes faith and denies the efficacy of covenant, at least from our perspective. 

Israel did not lose battles because of giants; they lost ground because of murmuring. The wilderness did not defeat them, their tongues did; and unfortunately the power of the tongue yet remains (Jas. 3:1-10). 

A murmur is small, but it grows and multiplies quickly. It spreads through households, congregations, and communities. It turns worshipers into worriers, pilgrims into prisoners, and gratitude into grumbling.

Murmuring is not just complaining, it is misplaced and misdirected theology. How so? 

1. Murmuring questions God’s character: When Israel murmured about water, manna, or leadership, God heard something deeper than words: “Is the Lord among us or not?” (Ex.17:7). Murmuring is the heart’s way of saying, “I’m not sure God is good, present, or wise.”

2. Murmuring rewrites the past: Israel said, “We remember the fish we ate in Egypt…” (Num. 11:5). Murmuring romanticizes bondage and distorts memory, causing us to look back to bondage in fondness, not forward in faith.

3. Murmuring blinds us to His provision: The people stood in front of daily miracles, manna, water from the rock, a cloud by day, fire by night, and still murmured. A “murmur‑ite” makes miracles look mundane.

4. Murmuring spreads spiritual infection: Ten spies murmured, and an entire nation lost faith and suffered judgment. Murmuring is contagious; while gratitude is curative.

The Lord never commands us to stop something without giving us something better to set our hearts and minds to: 

1. Practice covenantal gratitude: Not generic positivity or contrived optimism, but covenant remembrance. Recall what the Lord has done, not what He has yet to do. 

2. Speak faith aloud: The apostle Paul says, “holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain” (Phil. 2:16). Faith grows when spoken, when lived and depended on; murmuring grows when whispered, or spoken in the shadowy places of the heart. 

3. Rehearse God’s character: When the heart is tempted to murmur, declare: the Lord is faithful, He is present, He is wise, He is working.

4. Replace murmuring with intercession: If something burdens you, fast and pray it instead of murmuring it. Intercession turns complaint into communion with the fullness of the Godhead and the faithful.

Dear faithful, a murmur, and therefore a Murmurite, cannot survive in an atmosphere of gratitude and thanksgiving. It suffocates when the heart remembers who the Lord is. The murmur dies when the tongue chooses praise over complaint. Murmurs wither when faith speaks louder than fear.

Let the wilderness, we all spend time there, hear your praise, worship and adoration, not your murmuring. Ask yourself questions about your own times of dissatisfaction or trial, and the response in it: Where have I allowed murmuring to replace faith? What miracle(s) have I stopped noticing? Who might be affected by the tone of my heart? What can I thank the Lord for right now?

There is no more sobering and convicting reminder than our Lord Yeshua/Jesus on the cross. Bearing our sin and shame, He did not murmur or complain, gossip or threaten, but submitted Himself to the will of the Father, and asked His forgiveness because, as so often the case, “they know not what they do.” 

A prayer: Father of mercies, reveal the murmurite hiding in the corners of my heart. Cleanse me from the parasite of complaint. Teach me to trust Your timing, Your wisdom, and Your goodness. Fill my mouth with gratitude, my mind with remembrance, and my spirit with the joy of Your salvation. Make me a child who shines Your light without murmuring, a city on a hill shining that others may see Your faithfulness working in me. In Yeshua’s name, Amen.

Maranatha. Shalom.