Meanwhile as they made their way steadily north, the great snow-clad mass of Mount Hermon gradually filled the sky ahead until it rose above them.  Then Our Lord, with Peter and James and John, went up alone into that wild, still solitude.  Today it takes six hours to climb to the summit and four to descend (1) and, although they may not have gone so far, it is clear from the Gospel record that it was towards the end of the day when they halted.

And there, in the last absolutely unbroken quiet that he was to enjoy on earth, Jesus gave himself to prayer; and as St Luke tells us, although the three Apostles were heavy with sleep, they kept awake, and thus they saw his glory.  For Jesus suddenly seemed to be filled with light: his hands, his feet, even his seamless robe were bright and radiant, while his face shone with a light that was blinding in its intensity.

For the first and only time in his earthly life he was seen in his glory, a glory that held the three Apostles spellbound.  They were no longer conscious of Mount Hermon now, for they seemed to have been lifted out of this life altogether into a new life of rapture and ecstasy and joy.  This was Heaven, this was the unimaginable reality behind the passing beauty of a thousand sunsets, for this – though they knew it not – this was the glory of him who makes the sun to set; the glory of the true Light, who is the life of men, the Light shining in darkness and enlightening every man, and whose glory is the glory of the only Son of the Father (John 1:1-14).