Charles Ellicott Commentary Matthew 17

After six days — Luke’s statement of “about eight days” (Luke 9:28) can be seen as an example of the method of reckoning that referred to the interval between our Lord’s death and resurrection—about thirty-six hours—as three days.

Peter, James, and John — The three retain their position as the elect among the elect, as they did in the raising of Jairus’s daughter (Mark 13:3). Considering the grouping of the Apostles, it might have seemed natural for Andrew to have been there as well. However, his character seems to have been consistently reserved, and perhaps he lacked the intensity of faith that belonged to his brother, the Rock-Apostle, and to the two Sons of Thunder.

Into a high mountain — A tradition of uncertain date designates Mount Tabor as the scene of the Transfiguration, but this was probably due to the mountain’s conspicuous position, rising abruptly from the plain of Esdraelon. The Gospel narratives leave the location entirely uncertain. However, since Caesarea Philippi was the last place mentioned and a journey through Galilee follows (Mark 9:30), it is more probable that the event took place on one of the heights of Mount Hermon. Furthermore, Tabor was crowned with a fortress that was likely occupied at this time, a fact inconsistent with the solitude the narrative implies.

And was transfigured before them — Elsewhere in the New Testament (except for the parallel passage in Mark 9:2), the word is used only in its spiritual sense and is translated there as transformed. Luke does not use the word but describes the change it implies: the fashion of His countenance became other than it had been (Luke 9:29). He adds the profoundly significant fact that this happened while He was in the act of prayer. It was in that act of communion with His Father that the divine glory flowed out into visible brightness.

Transcendent as this manifestation was, it has lesser analogies. We see it in the radiance that made Stephen’s face as the face of an angel (Acts 6:15), and even more so in the glory that shone on Moses’ face when he came down from the mountain (Exodus 34:29). In some faint measure, it is also seen in what could be called the transformative power of prayer, which clothes features that have no beauty or attractiveness with the rapture of devout ecstasy. It is not an overly bold speculation to see in this fact the very thing that gives the Transfiguration its meaning as a stage in the disciples' training.

Prayers like the one offered for Peter, that his faith might not fail (Luke 22:31–32), suggest something about the Master's intercession for His disciples. We must remember this was a crisis in their spiritual history. They had risen to the highest faith, only to be offended by the announcement of His rejection, suffering, and death. Something was needed to sustain their faith—something they could look back on in later years as a guarantee of a future glory. It was good for them to gaze, at least once during His life of humility, on the glory of the only-begotten of the Father (John 1:14). It was good for them to feel that they were not following cunningly-devised fables but had been eye-witnesses of His majesty (2 Peter 1:16).

For those who believe that our Lord’s human nature was truly like ours in every way, except for sin, it will not seem too bold to suggest that this might have been a time of conflict and trial for Him as well. It could have been a renewal of the temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 16:23) and an anticipation of the agony in Gethsemane. Perhaps even for Him, in His humanity, the excellent glory and the voice from heaven provided the help and comfort that strengthened Him for the cross and passion.

Following the narrative in detail, we can trace its stages in a sequence like this: After six days, spent apparently with their Lord in the mountain district near Caesarea Philippi but not in preaching or working miracles, the rest of the disciples are left at the foot of the mountain. The three then follow Him to its summit as evening closes. There, as later in Gethsemane, He withdraws from them about a stone’s throw (Luke 22:41), and they watch with Him. They gaze on Him as He, either standing or kneeling (we must remember that standing was the more common posture for prayer, Luke 18:11), intercedes for them, for Israel, and, we may add, for all mankind. Then, as they gaze, His form and features shine with a new glory, as bright as the sun, as though the Shekinah glory-cloud had wrapped itself around Him. Even His garments become white as the light and white as snow (the reading in Mark is uncertain, but if genuine, the snows of Mount Hermon may have suggested the comparison). As Mark adds with his usual descriptive vividness, so as no fuller on earth can whiten them. It should be added, however, that nothing in the text suggests the vision of three forms floating in the air, with which Raphael’s glorious picture has made us familiar.

Moses and Elijah — We can well believe that the disciples' identification of the figures they saw was intuitive. In the state of consciousness to which they had been raised, they were capable of a spiritual illumination that would reveal who these figures were, as they recognized their Master’s work and paid homage to His majesty. There was, obviously, a unique appropriateness in each case. One was the great representative of the Law, which was a "schoolmaster" or "guardian" (see note on Galatians 3:24) leading people to Christ; the other was the representative of the entire noble fellowship of the prophets. Of one it had been said that a "Prophet like him" would come in the latter days (Deuteronomy 18:18), whom people should obey; of the other, that he would come again to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children (Malachi 4:5). The end of each one's ministry was not like the "common death of all men." No one knew of the tomb of Moses (Deuteronomy 34:6), and Elijah had passed away in the chariots and horses of fire (2 Kings 2:11). Both were associated in people's minds with the glory of the Messiah's kingdom. The Jerusalem Targum on Exodus 12 connects the coming of Moses with that of the Messiah. Another Jewish tradition predicts his appearance with that of Elijah. Their presence now was a testimony that their work was over and that the Messiah had come.

Talking with him — Luke (Luke 9:31) adds the subject of their conversation: They spoke of His decease which He was to accomplish at Jerusalem. To the extent that the disciples understood the meaning of what they heard at the time, or recalled it afterward, it was a testimony that the spirits of the lawgiver and the prophet accepted the sufferings and death—which had shaken the disciples' faith—as necessary conditions for the Messianic kingdom. It is significant that the word for "decease" (exodos) reappears in this sense only once in the New Testament, and then in close connection with a reference to the Transfiguration (2 Peter 1:15).

Lord, it is good for us to be here. For “Lord,” St. Luke has “Master,” and St. Mark (likely giving the very word uttered, as he often does) has “Rabbi.” It is not easy to trace the thoughts that passed rapidly through the disciple’s soul in that moment of amazement. Afterwards, if we may judge from St. Mark’s account, “he knew not what to answer, for they were very afraid” (Mark 9:6), or St. Luke’s, “not knowing what he said” (Luke 9:33), he could hardly explain them himself.

We may venture to see in the very naïveté of the words a touch of originality and unexpectedness which, as far as it goes, testifies to the truthfulness of the narrative. What the words seem to imply is:

1. An abounding joy at being brought into a glory that fulfilled the Apostle’s brightest hopes. It was, indeed, good to be carried, as it were, into Paradise or the third heaven, and to hear there words which human lips might not reproduce.
2. His thoughts traveled back to the records of the Exodus, when the Lord talked with Moses in the tabernacle (Exodus 33:7–10). What if similar tabernacles could now be made for those three glorious figures, so that all Israel might come to gaze, hear, and worship? Would this not be a better consummation than the shame and death at Jerusalem? Would it not fulfill the belief of the scribes and the people that “Elias must first come”?

A bright cloud overshadowed them—that is, our Lord, Moses, and Elijah. To the disciples, this would undoubtedly recall the “cloudy pillar” that had descended on the first tabernacle (Exodus 33:9) and the “cloud that filled the house of the Lord on the dedication of the Temple” (1 Kings 8:10).

In later Jewish language, this cloud was the Shechinah, or the abiding presence of Jehovah. The very form of the word connects it with both the Hebrew (mishkan) and the Greek (skené) words for "tabernacle," which was the symbol that God was with His people. The Targums, or Aramaic paraphrases of the Law and Prophets that were then current, had used the word as a synonym for the divine name. For instance, where the Hebrew text has, I will dwell in thee, the Targum of Jonathan has, “I will make my Shechinah to dwell” (Zechariah 2:10; Zechariah 8:3).

The cloud's appearance at this moment, followed by the voice from it, was a witness that no tabernacle made with hands was now needed. It testified that the humanity of Christ was the true tabernacle of God . In this sense, it was true that the tabernacle of God was with men (Revelation 21:3), and that He would dwell with them.

This is my beloved Son—The words were substantially the same as those heard at our Lord's baptism (Matthew 3:17), but the difference in their form is suggestive. At His baptism, they were addressed to the human consciousness of the Son of Man, declaring to Him the greatness of His being. Now, they are addressed to the disciples and are closely connected with the decease He was to accomplish at Jerusalem.

It was, if we may say so, because the Son of Man became obedient to death that He was showing Himself worthy of the Father’s love. In the hour of darkness, apparent failure, agony, and death, He was satisfying His Father’s good pleasure and was accepted by Him as the one perfect sacrifice. And so the command, Hear Him, gained a new significance.

From now on, not the traditions of the elders, the doctrines of the scribes and Pharisees, or even the teaching of Moses and Elijah—of the Law and the Prophets—were to command their allegiance. Instead, the words of the Son of Man were to be the guide for their faith and their lives. For it is true of His words alone that the Father is fully revealed in them (Hebrews 1:1–2) and that they will never pass away (Matthew 24:35).