Transfiguration into Holiness – Bp. Mikhail Semyonov
By the Example of the Holy One Who Called You, Be Holy Yourselves (1 Peter 1:15).
Are the lessons of this day meant for us?
Be holy. Be transformed into the “image of Christ.” Change your sinful life to one modeled after the One who called us—Christ. Exchange the dirty, stained garments of the soul for the radiant wedding attire of a God-bearer. Ascend to the Lord’s mountain.
But is holiness possible for us when we are so entangled in the snares of life that we not only struggle to climb upward but even stumble as we walk on level ground, constantly sinking into the mire of sin?
Is it possible? Not only is it possible, but it is also mandatory.
There are different kinds and degrees of holiness. No one can reach the mountain’s peak in a single leap. But those who strive to ascend and steadfastly move toward it are already on God’s path, having claimed a portion of the “Kingdom of God,” which is “taken by force.”
“Be holy as the One who called you is holy.” We should not think that the apostle’s call to holiness demands that we immediately clothe ourselves in the light that shone from the saints and the Lord Himself. Step onto the path of great endeavor that enabled ascetics like St. Gregory Palamas to experience the light of Tabor here on earth.
For us, the school of holiness—and its first expression—is serving God with the abilities we have and in the place where we stand. Every calling, every position, is a sufficient arena for serving God.
People often reason that they cannot be a lamp set on high, that they cannot illuminate the world with holiness. And so, they conclude, they can entirely forget about God’s work. They overlook that, even if they are not destined to be a lamp on a mountain, nothing prevents them from being a humble light burning in a modest corner, illuminating—however faintly—the space God has assigned them for their work.
If you cannot shine for the world, then shine with love, help, and kindness—this light—for one, two, or three people. Carry a small flame into the darkness of a poor person’s life or the gloom of a lost soul.
We have already said that a great evil lies in people seeing holiness only in the paths of great Christian ascetics—those who walked in fiery prayer, fasting, and self-denial to the point of forgetting themselves entirely for Christ, renouncing father, mother, and children. Feeling incapable of such holiness, they do not seek another kind within their own strength.
They think to replace “holiness” with weak, cold, purely external imitation of the saints in fasting and prayer. Fasting is a great thing, prayer is a great thing, but our fasting is soulless and dead, and our prayer is cold and lifeless. This is merely a counterfeit, or rather, the “corpse” of fasting and prayer. They will not save us until they come alive, and they will come alive only when, alongside fulfilling external commandments, we warm our hearts with holy work—even in a small circle, even within the confines of a family—but work warmed by love and a desire to contribute our offering to the Lord’s work.
We pay taxes, duties, and levies to the state. We do not grumble, but of course, we feel no joy in paying them. But when we help a poor person escape poverty because we took pity on them, our hearts become warm and joyful.
In serving God, there is also a tax we pay—voluntarily or half-voluntarily—and there are love offerings to Him. We attend church services, we observe fasts, sometimes we give a coin to a beggar. But notice, the Pharisees did these things too—perhaps even more than we do. And do not think they did it only for show. No, they did it sincerely. But they did it as if paying a tax, out of fear of God’s wrath, out of habit, or a sense of duty.
And it is necessary, of course, to pay this tax, but this is still only the truth of the Pharisees. What is needed is also a love offering to God—an offering we bring not out of fear but out of love and gratitude to Him. In such an offering lies the beginning, the seed of Christian holiness—the same radiant holiness pleasing to God, which everyone is capable of.
This gift of love consists in being a “blessing of God” in the circle of family and loved ones, building Christ’s work and Christ’s Kingdom in our own place with the strength we have.
Everyone will find hundreds of opportunities to be an active worker for Christ. We should not think that the fruits of Christian faith must be poured out beyond the family circle—on the contrary, it is here that we find their truest application. At the very least, this is where we must begin.
Remember that Martha, amidst her daily cares, also came to the feet of Christ, whom Mary was already listening to. Everyone, in their closest circle—however modest or small it may be—must find ways to apply Christian virtues that distinguish a good Christian, a loving mother, obedient children. These virtues adorn family life, smoothing out all the rough patches of the earthly path and casting a light that “shines for everyone in the house.” And this is a faint reflection of the light of Tabor.
If you can transform the life of your home—your family—into the Kingdom of God, this will already prove that you are transforming your soul in the image of Christ. The main thing in the work of salvation is “doing your work for God.”
“There are different gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are different ministries, but the same Lord” (1 Corinthians 12:4). The birds of the sky glorify God with their song, wildflowers lift their fragrance to heaven like praiseful incense; trees shower the earth with their fruits, clouds water it with life-giving rain, stars illuminate the darkness of night with their wondrous radiance; all of nature serves the Creator and glorifies Him. So too, among us, Christ’s servants on earth, each has their own calling. One labors to provide for a large family, another dedicates their strength and talents to public service, a third, weakened by fear or illness, becomes a silent example of patience and submission; some are given the gift of speech, others the talent of writing, some are blessed with a beautiful voice, and others are granted to sit in silent reverence at the feet of Christ, listening to His words, pressing their thirsty lips to the Source of living water. The gifts we receive are varied, but each of us must serve the Lord with the gift bestowed upon us from above, no matter how humble or unremarkable it may be.
Let each person bring holiness to their small task, performing it for the glory of God, and we will all become creators, carpenters of the Kingdom of God on earth. We will contribute our offering to the work of transforming the world.
— What is in your hand, Abel?
— A little lamb from the flock, O God—I offer it as a sacrifice to You.
And so he did. And the incense from that whole burnt offering continues to rise to God to this day, an unceasing sacrifice of praise.
— What is in your hand, Moses?
— Just a staff, Lord, with which I tend my flocks.
— Use it for Me.
He obeyed, and with that simple staff, miracles were performed that astonished the Egyptians and their proud king.
— Mary, what do you carry in your hands?
— A jar of spikenard, O God, with which I wish to anoint Your only-begotten Jesus.
She did so, and not only did the house fill with the fragrance of the ointment, but that act of love still perfumes the pages of the Gospel and the hearts of those who read them, preserved through all ages “throughout the whole world as a memorial of her and what she did.”
— Poor woman, what is in your hand?
— Two mites, Lord—all my wealth. I have nothing more to place in Your treasury.
She offered them, and her meager gift, which in Christ’s eyes surpassed all others, continues to inspire and encourage people to give to the Lord.
— What do you hold in your hand, Tabitha?
— A needle, Lord.
— Work with it for Me.
And so it was; not only did she clothe the suffering and poor in Joppa, but her diligent labor is remembered with reverence to this day and serves as an example to many.
Let each do what they can.
But some may say, “The Lord demands infinite perfection, yet you ask for so little… Where is the ascent up the mountain here? This is standing still, not moving forward.”
No. If a person embodies Christ in their small task, they will gradually begin to ascend higher. One in whom Christ lives cannot remain still.
By sensing God within themselves through such acts of love, a person becomes united with Christ and, with His help, discovers the strength to progress further along His paths and those of the saints, up to the very summit of the Lord’s mountain. The one who is faithful in little will, in God’s good time, be called to greater things.
We must not forget that on every path, in every endeavor, it is prayer that lifts us upward. We cannot work for God’s glory, even in small things, without ascending the mountain of prayer—not a dead prayer, performed out of duty with silent lips, but a true, fervent, and sincere prayer.
The Lord “led His apostles up a high mountain.” For what purpose? For prayer in solitude. The Lord Himself constantly withdrew from the crowd and took His disciples away so they could rest and focus: “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while,” He said to them. Even on the cross, in the agony of His final moments, the Lord and Son never ceased to pray and continually urged His disciples to pray: “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation” (Mark 14:38).
The mountain to which He leads His disciples represents the difficult, thorny path we must tread to ascend to the heights of goodness and true prayer. The power of prayer is the greatest mystery, yet in its simplicity, it is accessible even to the pure soul of a child.
And we must ask God for the gift of holy, fervent prayer—not merely out of duty. This gift will give us the strength to first be a brightly burning lamp in our own home, and perhaps later to carry Christ’s light further afield.
Let us pray.
Christ alone can work this wondrous deed in our hearts; He alone will lead us, as His disciples, along the narrow, steep, rocky path to the high mountain. He will support us and carry us in His arms, removing all obstacles. By following Him, we will reach the summit and receive the reward that awaited the disciples on Tabor. There, far from the noise and bustle of the world, they listened only to the voice of the Savior—they recognized Him as the Son of God and became witnesses to His eternal glory.
So too, when we lift our souls to the Lord, leaving far behind all worldly temptations and distractions, He will grant us a taste of that inexpressible bliss of closeness to Him, which will give us strength in life’s struggles, steadfastness in trials, and comfort in sorrow.