ordinary light into the room where persons are asleep will often awaken them, it is not surprising that the disciples should have been aroused from their slumber by the flood of light and glory that was beaming round their Master then.  How surprised they must have been when they opened their eyes on that scene!  They would never forget it as long as they lived.  It was more than half a century after this when St. John wrote his gospel; and it was, no doubt, to this scene that he referred when he said, in speaking of Jesus;—­“we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father” St. John i:  14.  And, not long before his death, St. Peter thus refers to it:—­“We were eyewitnesses of his majesty.  For he received from God the Father, honor and glory, when there came such a voice from the excellent glory, saying, This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.”  II.  Pet. i:  16, 17.

One object for which this wonderful transfiguration of our Lord took place was, no doubt, to give to the disciples then, and to the followers of Jesus in all coming time, an idea of what his glory now is in heaven, and of what it will be when he shall come again in his kingdom.  He had told his disciples about his sufferings and death, and the shame and dishonor connected with them; and here, as if to counterbalance that, he wished to give them a glimpse of the glory that is to shine around him forever.

How wonderful it must have seemed to the astonished disciples!  When they had last looked on their Master, before going to sleep, they had seen him as “the man of sorrows,” in his plain everyday dress, such as they themselves wore:  but, when they looked on him again, as they awoke from their sleep, they saw his face shining as the sun, and his raiment dazzling in its snowy whiteness.

To what may we compare this wonderful change?  Suppose you have before you the bulbous root of the lily plant.  You look at it carefully, but there is nothing attractive about it.  How rough and unsightly it appears!  You close your eyes upon it for a brief space.  You open them again.  But what a change has taken place!  That plain-homely looking bulb has disappeared, and in its place there stands before you the lily plant.  It has reached its mature growth.  Its flower is fully developed and blooming in all its matchless beauty!  What a marvellous change that would be!  And yet it would be but a feeble illustration of the more wonderful change that took place in our Saviour at his transfiguration.

Here is another illustration.  Suppose we are looking at the western sky, towards the close of day.  Great masses of dark clouds are covering all that part of the heavens.  They are but common clouds.  There is nothing attractive or interesting about them.  We do not care to take a second look at them.  We turn from them for a little while, and then look at them again.  In the meantime, the setting sun has thrown his glorious beams upon them.  How