This movement into the gaze prayerfully engages this other. I do not read; I become that which the face sees. This is the face of the face of God seeing me, given to me in ineluctable spectacle that only a prayerful gaze can view. Being seen takes me, seizes me, though I myself move into this gazing concealment, which, remaining concealed, un-conceals, dis-covers me to myself. I am discovered and self-disclosed---I give my self to myself-as-seen.
Behold (ἰδοὺ)! See! Luke gives me two others. The image is a prayer in itself. Moses and Elijah usher the Messiah into time and space as time cancels itself as the ushers come into view. Exodus (ἔξοδον). Exodus is a prayer in itself. I depart into the unheard words of exodus. Luke tells me that the three speak of exodus, of the exodus Jesus will accomplish at Jerusalem. I depart into what Luke tells me.
The cloud goes before me in my exodus. I watch it overshadow Peter, James and John; it envelopes them. I cannot see them bathing in the words of the voice: Sonship. Chosen. Listen to Him. He is mine. The voice gives the Son. I hear the words and the sound is the face made other that sees me. The face is the word made sound. I hear the face and see the voice. They are one and the same. In the one, in the gaze of this other, in the sound of a face and in a face of a voice, I cross a sea of faith to a shore of truth.
Praying the Transfiguration is standing in a dazzling gaze coming at me from an other whose unity of face and voice calls to ask, 'where are you,' and answering hineni.