Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent

We hear the story of the Transfiguration of the Lord twice each year: on the Feast of the Transfiguration,  August the 6th, and again on this Second Sunday of Lent. The telling of the story is scheduled both times in the liturgical year relative to Feasts of the Lord’s Cross:
+ August 6th is 40 days before the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross on September 14th
+ The Second Sunday of Lent is 40 days before Good Friday.

This placement of the Transfiguration story here in Lent reflects an ancient Tradition that suggests that the Lord wanted to prepare Peter, James and John for the coming Crucifixion in order to counter-balance the Scandal of the Cross with their knowledge of Christ as the Son of God.

Today, the story is juxtaposed with the story of the “near-sacrifice” of Isaac by Abraham, giving us two very different “Beloved Son” stories:
+ One story has the human, Abraham, giving his Beloved Son to God in obedience…
+ One story has God the Father giving His Beloved Son to humanity in love.

These stories, put together as they are for us today, teach us that obedience is the proper human response to the love of God. The obedience modeled by Abraham as God tests his fidelity is later modeled for us in the heart of Christ tested, as we heard last week in His Temptation in the Desert, not to accept His destiny.

And so, we hear God speak from heaven today. He spoke more frequently in Old Testament times: to Noah, Abraham, Moses and the Prophets. But in the New Testament He speaks only twice:
+ at the Lord’s Baptism (the inauguration of His public life)
+ at the Transfiguration (as His Public Life draws to a close).

While Saint Mark tells us of the spectacular experience of the Transfiguration:
+ the transformation of Christ’s appearance
+ the apparition of Moses and Elijah
+ the voice of God from the cloud…
God the Father is not into razzle-dazzle, but Revelation: Jesus is being shown for who He really is: the Beloved Son of God, come down from heaven.

The Transfiguration story is given to us in the early days of Lent to serve as a euphemism for our Lenten experience… going up to the mountaintop of prayer, there to remain with Jesus and listen for the voice of God. And what will God say to you on the mountaintop? “Behold my beloved son/ my beloved daughter.”

Through the years, I have approached the mountaintop with some fear and trepidation, wondering that God might use this moment to give voice to His displeasure concerning my faltering attempts toward holiness, saying…“Behold my son — who could try a little harder.”

But Saint Paul challenges this self-negation, writing:
+ “Who will bring a charge against God’s chosen ones?”
+ “[When] God acquits — who would dare condemn?”
+ “Christ who died and rose sits at the right hand of God and intercedes for us.”

Our self-knowledge as the Beloved of God discovered on the mountaintop, renewed and strengthened through Lenten penance and prayer, can bring about a “transfiguration” of sorts for ourselves. But an effort has to be made that builds upon itself:
+ If you don’t go to the mountaintop, you won’t hear God’s voice.
+ If you don’t hear God’s voice, you won’t adjust your self-image.
+ If you don’t adjust your self-image, you’ll just keep slogging through life, compensating for the lack of knowledge and experience of divine love through sinful patterns that bring dolefulness to life, and even risk hope for eternal life.

So, if you’re dragging your feet up Lent’s mountain, dreading the disciplines and penances that continue to lie ahead, think, instead, of what lies beyond them: not just Easter’s celebration, but God speaking directly to you of His love, so that now you can say of the rigors of Lent what Saint Peter said of Mount Tabor: “Lord, it is good that we are here.”