Sunday, March 5, 2023

Go up to the mountain... (Lent.2.A)

 


We ended a very busy week in the parish with a flood in the rectory, which is now full of noisy machines trying to dry things out. We started with a parking lot full of snow and a no-show plowing company.

Life is full of challenges, big and small.

Does anyone disagree with that?

Travelling with small children is one of life’s small challenges that can seem enormous. I was flying to Toronto a while back, and across the aisle was a couple with a baby who screamed almost non-stop.

At least the mother was a model of calm. She spoke very gently “Keep calm, Albert. No need to be upset, Albert. We’ll be home soon, Albert.”

As we were getting off the plane, I asked the young father how old little Albert was.

“Oh, no,” he said—“his name’s Michael. I’m Albert.”

On the surface, today’s Gospel seems miles away from such everyday challenges. The high biblical mountaintop is about as far away as you can get from my fears and my issues. The story doesn’t seem to have much to do with our daily life at all. Clearly, as we will hear in the beautiful Preface today, it’s about Jesus preparing his friends for his crucifixion, arming them in advance with a preview of his glory.

But if that’s all, why is the Church so keen to share the story of the transfiguration every year on the second Sunday of Lent? This year we read St. Matthew’s account, next year St. Mark’s, last year St. Luke’s. Obviously, this story is very important, but why? After all, we don’t need a preview of Christ’s resurrection; it has already happened, and we know that.

I can only think of one reason: the transfiguration strengthens our hope that we will be transformed.

In this season where we hope for personal change, we need a reminder to rely on the power of God. Lent won’t make a difference because of what we accomplish, but as St. Paul says in our second reading, according to God’s “own purposes and grace.”

Just as no human power transfigured Jesus—Mark’s Gospel says his clothes were dazzling white “such as no one earth could bleach them”—so too we make progress in our Lenten journey by God’s goodness not our own.

Today we’re invited to share in the mountaintop experience of Peter, James, and John. If we have stumbled our way through these first days of Lent, we need to hear the Lord saying “Get up and do not be afraid.”

As my great friend Father Groeschel might have said, today the Church is speaking to those of us who have been schlepping along, not those of us who have been steadily running the race.

Which leads to the big question: are we on our way up the mountain to witness Christ’s glory, or are we standing at the base of the hill scratching our heads?

Are we looking for personal transformation during these days of Lent, or just ‘more of the same’?

Are we really looking for visible changes in our daily lives? More patience, less selfishness; more insight, less anger; more generosity, less self-indulgence. Are we anticipating victories, large or small, over some of the things that enslave us or hold us back?

Do I expect to be the same old me at Easter? Is the journey from Ash Wednesday to Holy Week a Sunday stroll or a bold climb up the mountain?

If we’re settling for “Lent lite,” today might be a day to think again. God offers real change and deep renewal to those who ask.

The spring training we call Lent is founded on three kinds of spiritual exercise: prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. It works very well for athletes, but it’s by no means the only way to get in spiritual shape.

And fasting from food is not the only way to fast. We can also fast from our over-scheduled lives—all planned down to the minute—and  make space for things of the spirit.

Thursday is the final night of our parish mission, which was titled “More Than a Story: The Jesus You Never Knew.” The last of our three dynamic speakers is Heather Khym, who will be assisted by her husband Jake Khym. Both have given powerful presentations at Christ the Redeemer in the past.

Heather’s talk, like the others we’ve heard, will be transforming. Not just inspiring, not just uplifting, but transforming. When you hear her, you will echo St. Peter: “Lord it is good for us to be here.”

The mission is offering the blessing promised to Abraham, of whom we are descendants. The mission is revealing the glory of friendship with Jesus, even if you have not known him before.

The gym has been packed for the first two nights of the mission. We’re moving into the church for the final evening so there will be plenty room for those of you who haven’t been able to attend yet.

I understand the reasons for missing the mission. If it’s not a flood, then it’s soccer practice. Tennis lessons. Homework. Business pressures. Kids.

But I also understand—as I know you do—that the disciples had to walk up the mountain before they could see Christ’s glory and the promise of their own glory. I’m sure when they came down the mountain their friends were full of stories of all the fish that got away while they were away being dazzled by the Lord.

Still, you can be sure that they wouldn’t have exchanged their experience for anything.

Will you join us on the mountaintop this Thursday? And bring someone along?

I’ll end with my one-sentence summary. Hope and faith are more important to a good Lent than efforts alone—because it’s God who reveals his glory and grants us the grace of conversion.

Our personal Lenten program—and the Weekly Update lists other activities besides the Mission—should give fresh hope of personal change here and now, and the beginning of our glorious transformation in the life to come.

 

 


No comments:

Post a Comment