Have you ever wondered what your image would reflect if you became "transfigured?"
"And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and become white as light." (Matthew 17:2). It is highly unlikely that we will ever become transfigured in the same manner in which Christ experienced transfiguration, as his face and clothes dazzled with light. We can, however become transfigured within our hearts. If you could choose what your transfiguration would be like, what would that image include? What would your demeanor, thoughts, talk and actions tell about you?
I recently asked myself that question and began to paint my transfigured portrait. As I reflected I came to the conclusion that I am "attempting" to live my transfigured self each day. However, I found that the creation of a finished image was quite challenging because, many times, my thoughts, words and actions failed to blend. As I daily brushed impressions upon my portrait, I wanted to see the perfect pattern reflected but I glimpsed shades of inconsistency between the good intentions my thoughts and words portrayed, and the result of my actions.
As I continued to paint scenes on the canvas, my transfigured portrait reflected faith, hope and love. My oils formed an image that contained all the traits of Christ. I brushed, with strong and deliberate strokes, qualities that were gentle, kind, strong and courageous -- ones that Christ portrayed. I also hoped to see bright yellow and white beams of light, to symbolize an abundance of faith. I felt that if I possessed my coveted amount of faith, I would be untouched by the negative words, thoughts and actions that others might fling at me. I would be better able to bear their sting of hurt. I would not experience debilitating feelings of rejection but would, instead, remember that I am truly "God's beloved." That assurance alone would be sufficient for my stability, peace, and confidence. Consequently, I reasoned I would be able to live the words of St. Paul that were contained in his treatise on love (Corinthians 13:7) and know, without a doubt, that "If I possess love I should bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and endure all things."
As I attempt to fashion my person and life into my transfigured image I feel that I desperately need to make a more concentrated effort to visit people who are in failing health or merely need company. This group would include both relatives and friends. I keep telling myself that I shall perform these charitable actions tomorrow. As I glance at my portrait through lens that magnify the spiritually important activities I keep putting off until tomorrow, I see a dark gray shade being cast across my heart.
If I could meet my standards for my transfigured self, I would not need the credit or acclaim of others for the performance of Christian deeds. Neither would I expect or desire a show of gratitude from people as payment for my gestures of love, help or friendship. Rather, I would remain confident that God would know of what my actions consisted and my purposes for their performance. I would, indeed, resemble Christ when he received appreciation from only one of 10 lepers whom he healed from the disease of leprosy (Luke 17:12-19). Christ desired only that God receive thanks.
Since we have left the spiritual season of Lent and are now residing in this joyful season of Easter, we need to remember that we are all, continually, called to re-evaluate our lives -- to imagine, attempt to paint and then live our new transfigured portrait of ourselves. Hopefully, I shall continue to live my transfigured image all year rather than only during this past season of Lent.
As I glance back over the vision of my self-portrait I can see that my hand brushed with the strokes that were messy, wavy and jagged -- like a heart monitor. They revealed high and low peaks just as my life suggests. The colors were serene, but often revealed colors of scalding, hot, red, temperatures that emphasized the emotional feelings of unresolved hurt and rejection within my life. Perhaps I shall try harder and will be equal to the task of recreating and painting a more beautiful transfiguration of myself, as time evolves -- one that reveals the earth-tone colors of brown, tan and green that reveal stability while on earth, death to self, and then, rebirth into more faith in God. I shall, especially, remember to paint a "large red heart" on the portrait of my transfiguration to show that God holds me within his sacred heart. What will your transfigured portrait reveal?
Ellen Shuck, a member of St. Mary's Cathedral in Cape Girardeau, also serves as director of education for the parish.
Are you interested in sharing a personal reflection about faith issues? Send your essays to Laura Johnston, features editor, at P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, Mo. 63702-0699 or e-mail her at ljohnston@semissourian.com. Essays should be no more than 750 words.
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