When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

Jesus and some of his disciples had gone for a hike. Perhaps they enjoyed the scenery, or the exercise, or one another's company. But Luke's gospel tells us that Jesus and Peter and John and James had climbed up a mountain to pray.

While they were on that mountain, something pretty amazing happened. Jesus was suddenly changed. His clothes were a dazzling white; he all but glowed. On top of that, Jesus was standing with Moses: the one who led Israel out of slavery and through the wilderness, the one who gave Israel the law that God intended to bind them all together. But not only did Moses show up - so did Elijah, one of Israel's many great prophets. Elijah had quite the resume, so far as prophets go - a resume which included the fact that he was reported not to have died, but to have been swept up into heaven with his mind and body quite in tact. So, there they all are: Jesus is radiating some other-worldly light, surrounded by a veritable who's who of Israel. It was a big deal.

The disciples were awe-struck, as one might rightly expect. If John and James were able to say anything at all, Luke's gospel doesn't tell us about it. Peter, as per usual, stuck his foot in his mouth. "I know, Jesus! I know! Let's build tents! One for Moses, one for Elijah, one for you!" You can almost see Jesus roll his eyes. Having missed the point, Peter invited one more display of divine presence: a cloud descended upon them, and a voice from the cloud rang out: "This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!" The voice hushed. The cloud dissipated. Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus was left alone, standing there in his normal, non-glowing clothes. Time to go back down the mountain.

When they got to the bottom of the mountain, the disciples were silent. Luke tells us: "When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen."

Maybe it's because I live in a world filled with journalists and bloggers and gossips, but I think that if this happened today, the whole world would find out about it. I can't for the life of me fathom why the disciples kept it a secret. I mean, Jesus didn't tell them it was classified information or anything. And who cares about secrets, anyway? What with all the talk of CIA leaks, it's hard for me to believe that Peter, James, and John wouldn't have mentioned this experience. Or is God somehow less interesting than international intrigue?

This has gotten me thinking: how much of our faith do we share? When we experience God's presence, what do we say about it? Whom do we tell?

I know, I know: you'll quote St. Francis and tell me: "Preach the gospel at all times; when necessary, use words." You'll remind me that words can be weak; it's better to show our faith in how we treat others.

And I'll say: good point. Actions can be a powerful witness to the love and compassion of God. (Etc, etc, etc.) But do we really tell nobody anything? Sure, we tell each other - we get together and talk about God and faith and that's great. (I mean it - it really is great. No sarcasm here.) But who else do we tell? And if we don't tell anyone else, why do we keep silent?

I am relieved to hear words that Jesus speaks elsewhere in the gospel: if you are silent, even these stones will cry out. God's Kingdom doesn't rest just on our efforts, and that is good news indeed. But let's not leave it all to the rocks. We have good news to share - with actions and with words. How will you share that good news this week?