At what point does discernment stop being faith and start becoming fear?
Millennials and Generation Z have been formed in a culture that struggles to take decisive action. This hesitancy shows up everywhere: another Tinder date, another “come and see,” another job interview. There is always one more option, one more sign, one more confirmation before committing. Many find themselves stalled at the edge of a path God may already be inviting them to walk.
As Catholics, this posture is often baptized with the word “discernment.” But the question remains: Is this truly trust in God’s guidance, or has discernment quietly become a spiritualized fear of choosing?
The account of the Transfiguration reveals this tension clearly. Jesus brings Peter, James, and John up the mountain and gives them a glimpse of his glory. For a moment, everything is illuminated. Moses and Elijah appear. God the Father’s voice is heard and he confirms Jesus' identity. This is the kind of clarity we all think we should wait for.
Our souls are most vulnerable to the enemy when we remain in prolonged uncertainty. Inaction stunts both our spiritual and physical lives. It is like standing in a gym endlessly debating which exercise to do, never lifting a single weight. No one grows stronger this way.
Peter’s response on the mountain tells the heart of the struggle. Faced with clarity, he does not move toward mission but towards remaining. “Lord, it is good that we are here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you and one for Moses and one for Elijah.” His words come from love, as ours often do. Peter wants the moment to be frozen and remain in certainty. While this can be seen as devotion, it also reveals how easily hesitation can be disguised as reverence.
In proposing three tents, Peter also places Jesus alongside Moses and Elijah, as if they were equals. This shows that although he recently proclaimed, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God,” Peter still hadn’t fully comprehended who Jesus was. The Father’s words make it clear: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” True discernment requires that we know who God truly is, rather than confining him to the image we are most comfortable with.
At the end of the day, we will never become who we are called to be if we confuse endless deliberation with wisdom. At some point, movement itself becomes an act of trust.
Jesus proves this, as he does not remain on the mountain. The vision fades and the Father’s voice becomes silent. Jesus and the disciples walk back down the mountain and return to a world of confusion and suffering. The true majesty of the Transfiguration was not in its revelation but in its fortification of Christ’s salvific mission. As St. Thomas Aquinas reminds us, “Christ wished to be transfigured in order to show men His glory, and to arouse men to a desire of it.” The Transfiguration is not meant to freeze us in awe. Rather it is meant to ignite our hearts to carry out the work God has for us.
Yet, too often, we find ourselves paralyzed at the trail marker, unable to even tie the laces of our boots because we are waiting for a guarantee of perfect conditions. What is the solution? Return to true discernment, a prayerful openness to God’s guidance that leads to concrete action. As one reflection in the recent film “Conclave” puts it: “If there was only certainty and no doubt, there would be no mystery, and therefore no need for faith.” Faith isn’t the absence of doubt; it’s the decision to move while the map is still being drawn.
We return, then, to that simple command on the mountain: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” Listening does not mean waiting indefinitely for another sign. It means acting on what God has already revealed. The disciples simply followed Jesus down the mountain. Discernment that becomes a demand for non-stop confirmation is in fact not listening to God. It is our attempt to control him.
We must attach our uncertainty to the virtue of faith. In doing that, we let go of the illusion of control and give it to God. This allows uncertainty to become the soil in which our trust grows. In that surrender, we find the courage to let the Holy Spirit move us to act.
Don’t let the enemy freeze you in the name of discernment! Follow the Master wherever he leads, up or down the mountain, through valleys. Take the next step, whether it’s a phone call you’ve avoided, a yes you’ve withheld, or the application you’ve left in the drawer.
Stop waiting for certainty and start moving in faith. Allow Jesus to transfigure your big or small acts into the life he is calling you to live.
Joseph Peach is a Catholic author, freelance writer, and speaker. He serves as the youth minister at St. Hilary Catholic Church in Fairlawn, Ohio, and has published seven books.
