Today's readings are straight from the X-files.

Listen to this one, Scully:
Weird reports from a mountain in the Middle East: A freak prophet suddenly begins to glow. Two men appear out of nowhere to talk about his upcoming departure. Those watching nearby are nearly overcome with sleep. Then they're all surrounded with a cloud. They hear a strange voice from the cloud and when it's gone, so are the two guys from nowhere.

Scully, the skeptic, does computer research on these Moses and Elijah characters. She finds eyewitness reports by hundreds that one of them evidenced that same glowing skin phenomenon; and not just once but frequently as he went in and out of the cloud. And the other disappeared in some kind of UFO described as a "chariot of fire."

That's what Peter is trying to remind us. Remember, he was there. He saw it with his own eyes. He is a believer. It would not surprise me to learn that when Peter talked about his memory of Jesus his own face glowed.

But imagine the look on Mulder's face when on the mountain in question, he encounters not some weird form extraterrestrial life, or even a cigar-smoking gentleman, but a scraggly Jewish rabbi who announces simply, "I am the way and the truth and the life."

Does Mulder's face shine then with the glow of a true believer? Alas, probably not. This is too simple to be filed with the X-files. It's too ordinary for most of us to believe. Where's the glow-in-the-dark skin? Where's the talking cloud? And where's the magnificent spaceship the cloud must have concealed? Now THAT would have made Mulder's face glow with the radiance of a true believer. But this -- just an ordinary wandering teacher? Not likely.

And he's talking about how he's going to die, this teacher. Have you ever heard someone talk calmly about their own death, knowing it will be very soon? If you have, you may have noticed a radiance about them. A peace that glows. They are transfigured.

It is as if, living in the clouded unknown of death, facing that ultimate darkness, they hear a voice that we do not hear. The approach of death transfigures people.

Remember how Luke introduces the story of Jesus' transfiguration? "Now about eight days after Jesus had foretold his death and resurrection, ..." Jesus life isn't all sunshine at the time. And remember too that the voice doesn't come from some glorious radiance, but from the terrifying cloud.

Perhaps those people who have faced the cloudy confusion and terrifying darkness of their own death have been given a glimpse of the unknown, maybe a glimpse of glory, perhaps even a vision of the Truth that is out there.

Maybe we all have that longing for the Truth that we secretly suspect is out there somewhere. From books on spirituality to UFO trackers, it seems to be human nature to want there to be something more. Even if we are skeptics, there seems to be an unasked for hope -- or fear -- that out there Someone is glowing. And that maybe somehow we might shine too.

We'd all like it if the mess of our lives could somehow be cleaned up -- polished to a radiance of goodness and love and beauty ... maybe even everlasting radiance. It's easy to think that our lives might begin to glow in response to something awesome and powerfully good like a spaceship or a perfect loving partner. But instead of a miraculous x-file case or a romantic ending, the Bible gives us an ordinary guy talking about death.

And that's the good news. From this guy Jesus' death, our lives can be transfigured, miraculously changed, but that change doesn't often come from shining spaceships or even sunny days. The voice that says "you are my chosen and beloved child" comes out of the cloud.

So often the Truth comes to us out of the cloudy and dark places of our lives. In the death of a wandering Jewish rabbi we find life and glory.

Remember the Majestic Glory in the cloud, Peter tells us:

• When someone you love dies, remember the glory.
  
• When life is clouded and confused, remember the glory.
  
• When the church says your love is a sin, remember the glory.
  
• When you are in pain, remember the glory.