2nd Sun Lent, Year A
Fr. Albert
St. Peter Catholic Church, New Iberia
Are you tired yet? A week and a half into Lent – have you fallen short on your sacrifice? Your resolutions? We still have a month of Lent left in front of us and the mental burden of having to stick it out can be well… discouraging. Can you imagine, then, the mental weight being carried by the Apostles? Just six days ago, Peter boldly proclaimed that Jesus is the Son of God only to have his excitement dashed to the ground by a bizarre promise that the God-Man he had recognized would die… and die a horrible, shameful death with every appearance of failure. Even at the moment Jesus prophesied his own death, the Apostles pretended not to hear and Peter went so far as to rebuke his Lord! But Jesus insisted on staying the course to rejection and murder.
“Carry your cross” Jesus said. “Do it every day” he added. Suffering, death, self-denial, letting go of a beloved food, game, or show for 40 long days… and, in some way, for the rest of your life. How can we not be tired? How can we not be discouraged? Because God “saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus.” Though we are easily discouraged, we are reminded that we are not left to our own designs. This self-denial… all our other crosses in life… we are not left alone to carry them.
Peter rejected the idea of the cross because that is the natural thing to do. What he sees today, what James, John and the rest of us witness now is meant to show us the supernatural way, the only possible way to survive it, the only possible way to meaning and to joy in this life and in the next. It is the wisdom of the Church, the divine wisdom of God’s providence that places the Transfiguration before our eyes near the beginning of this solemn journey to the cross. Such is the wisdom that ought to guide not only this journey of a few weeks, but also the journey of our entire lives.
Moses and Elijah appear there with the Lord; the Law and the prophets, the key representatives of the Old Testament. They act as witnesses – and you needed two to verify anything in Jewish law – two witnesses to what had been foretold. A newer and greater prophet, but also a man who would suffer for the people of God. And Jesus warned them that he must fulfill these prophecies. Often, he used words, and a few symbols, to teach them of the Cross. Suffering is a tangible reality to us – we do not need much convincing that it happens and that it will continue to happen. Escape from suffering, glory, a joy and hope that lasts – these are things we want to believe in, ideas we want to be true but realities which are easily doubted.
And it is for this reason that Jesus knows the necessity of revealing his divine glory before they experience the cross. While their hearts are still laden with the heavy words promising the cross, they are given the vision of glory. The cross is promised, but divine glory is made manifest. Can you blame Peter for his reaction? “It is good that we are here.” It is good! A vision of the divine is exactly what his heart, what your heart longs for most. Every sweet food, every fond embrace, every time you reach out for some fleeting and even harmful pleasure, you are reaching out for what Peter has just glimpsed.
“I will make three tents.” Dear Peter, we’ve all been there; wanting to prolong a precious moment, to remain in that time of joy. Sometimes it is, like this one, a moment of profound peace and spiritual contentment. Others, it is returning to a creaturely comfort and looking for the excitement of the first glimpse, the first taste, the first experience. At its best, this desire becomes dedication, at its worst, it can become addiction. What you want, Peter, we want, but none of us can have it while still on this earth, even standing on the mountains of prayer or the hills of simple fun.
The pain of coming down that mountain might make us wonder if it is worth it… if perhaps we should just wallow in our lowliness and misery until the end, to avoid the disappointment. Should the tormented artist never paint? The struggling musician never compose? The heartbroken never love again? No! We need these moments of exaltation, especially those given to us by God himself. The door of Death closes on everything and everyone, so we need to peer through… to peek into the keyhole to see the light on the other side, the glory beyond the door that is unlocked only by the key of the Cross.
And that is the beauty of the Transfiguration. It is not only a sign of the future, a foreshadowing of the resurrection – it is a manifestation of glory now. Contrary to popular belief, the Catholic Faith is not one of perpetual postponement; of all boredom and gloominess until we finally die and go to heaven. Yes, we ultimately look forward to Heaven and the life to come, but we begin to experience some of that glory now.
Bright white light emanates not just from heaven, but from Jesus’ very body. Even his clothing becomes like light. By the grace of God, his light can shine through this physical world. That is what we mean by beauty. Even natural beauty can strike the heart and raise the mind to God; it is all the more true with the gifts of grace. So, make your sacrifices and offerings; let them hurt a little or even more than a little. I promise you that God rewards such sacrifices and that he provides moments like this Transfiguration to strengthen you. Perhaps some of you can recall your own moments of profound prayer… of recognizing God’s glory in some powerful way.
But moments of great clarity will pass. Even the sense of accomplishment and joy after a fruitful sacrifice will fade. God can and does stir up our emotions with amazing moments, but we will falter if we count on emotional highs. A fun youth group, clever teachers, great music, powerful sermons, and even a beautiful Church – none of these will sustain your faith if they are not connected to… indeed, completely subjected to Christ himself. When tragedy strikes: an early death, the loss of a job, betrayal by someone close, there are no gimmicks or trite platitudes that will help.
“This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Every Mass we can gaze upon the beloved son. Do we learn from the Father to delight in him and not in passing things? That is why the Mass is meant to be filled with reverence; sometimes in great beauty, pomp, and circumstance, other times in humble silence and awe. This celebration of the Eucharist, indeed all of the sacraments are moments when Jesus comes to touch us, to say “rise, and do not be afraid.”
And “they saw no one else but Jesus alone.” There is only one thing, only one person who gives you “the strength that comes from God” so that you can “bear your share of hardship for the gospel”. Even when the light fades, Jesus remains. Be grateful for the moments of glory and light, for they are real, but seize upon their true meaning. Even with this experience, two of the men present, James and Peter, both flee the Cross when it comes. The noise of fear and worldliness blinded their memories. Do not squander your moments, turn off your screens and radios, allow God’s grace to really take root. “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.”