Many years ago, even before I turned into a full-scale curmudgeon, I remember snorting in irritation when I saw this morning's bulletin cover on the cover of Newsweek … for their Easter issue. Editors don't know the difference between the Resurrection and the Transfiguration I recall muttering. But we know better, we know the Transfiguration when we see it. Question is, how much more do we know about than this hugely famous well beloved image on our bulletin and doubtless in our minds-- the glorious, magnificent moment of our Lord, gloriously transfigured in raiment white and glistening (love that word, only place I've seen it used) talking with Moses and Elijah in front of thunderstruck disciples. And that is of course the point and glory of this moment, of this Sunday, of this final manifestation that God gave that this, his beloved Son, is the Christ indeed. But there is more to that moment, that event, more that we should probably, as struggling Christians, be aware of. What was going on before this precise moment of Transfiguration, and what was going on after, these two are where we, and the disciples, and our Lord himself, lived out most of the days and months and years? Even that benighted Art Editor from Newsweek could tell you precisely what was going on before the Transfiguration. Nothing. Or at least not much or at least nothing worth reporting, recording, or even remembering. All the Gospel witnesses dismiss the days before the Transfiguration without comment. Peter declared that Jesus was the Messiah, the Son of God. Then, then, "after eight days", they all say--Jesus and the three disciples went up the mountain. After eight days of what? Not much I guess. Nothing memorable, nothing so significant that it was preserved in writing or memory for 2000 years. So, a week for the disciples that had been ordinary, containing nothing of enough significance to warrant mentioning. And out of that flat terrain of ordinary life rises the Mount of the Transfiguration. Most of the weeks of the year for us are more likely to be ordinary than to be moments of transfiguration. Sometimes we do experience things so joyful or so tragic that the week is anything but ordinary, but many weeks are, maybe even most weeks are, ordinary. The Church has always respected and revered and consecrated the ordinary, the commonplace events of day to day living. Jesus himself sometimes just visited with friends, relaxed, chatted, walked alone or with a close friend, and sometimes ate and drank with friends and had some small amount of fun. It was one of the things that so infuriated the Pharisees and scribes. But out of all that ordinariness rises the Mount, the moment, of the Transfiguration. You just never know. And you catch a glimpse brief perhaps but a definite and unforgettable glimpse that makes the ordinary days of our lives extraordinary all of them together. Transfigured. The other bookend of this great moment hat we should at least glance at is what happened after the Transfiguration, what happened after they came down from the mountain, Well the first thing to note is that they did in fact come down from the mountain, they did not remain there in rapt contemplation as a mystic or hermit or supreme savant might have. Most of us like the disciples, do need to come down from the mountain, back down to the plains, the plateaus of the ordinary week again. Not covered by today's Gospel is what they did, the first thing they did, entered a village. Predictable. And Jesus "straightway healed a boy" Amazing, fantastic, anything but ordinary even though it was all in a little scruffy village and not on a glorious mountain. Not Elijah and Moses, but two worried parents instead. Possibly, given all his healings, an ordinary day for our Lord, but surely the most extraordinary day for the boy and his family. This transfigured Lord is a Lord worth having, I say. Not so grand so glorious, so white and glistering, so caught up into conversing with the giants that he forgets or overlooks the little ones, that sad sick boy, his parents, us, in our trials and worries and fears and sickness and insecurity. A moment on the mountain, a lifetime of ordinary days filled with extraordinary love and care. We come to the moments of grace and glory, times when we see the beauty and splendor and majesty of it all, and then we go on again with our lives, showing forth as best we can in these miscellaneous lives of ours the glory we have seen and believed the transfigured Christ full of grace and glory and love for little sick boys m for you, for me. Now it is up to us to show that same world a similar love and care. To show the world by word and deed, in our love and care, that we have the glory of the Lord full of grace and truth and love.