Seatbelt Blues

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Dancing the Transfiguration

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration, and I want to do some kind of substantive post, so I think I'm just gonna start typing and see what comes out.

I've always found the Transfiguration bothing compelling and haunting. The disciples, seriously, must have had their minds blown, as before them was revealed, in all His light-besotted glory, this strange and unexpected king. They must have felt themselves quite drunk on the light, low-headed and tipsy, made dizzy by darts of light that dazzle and flash all around more intense than a Studio 54 show, a sacred disco of smoke and sound. They must have stood there waiting for Christ to skip off the stage and go back to the Great Gig in the Sky, and instead they saw some kind of fabulous Trinity, that mad revelation of God's one-ness and three-ness and brilliance and shine. The sun peaked high and the Son piqued interest and the Law and the Prophets slid down, skipped down and worshipped the Son and the voice boomed and the clouds spread and the whole of the free-radical Three-Radical stood or rather floated above the disciples who spun like vertigo and couldn't even begin to get it.



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