The God Who Suffers

Homily for the Second Sunday in Lent

The juxtaposition of readings this week makes the extraordinary, indeed the extravagant, claim that it is not we who are called upon in the tragedies of sinful history to sacrifice what we hold most dear; but it is God who makes this sacrifice. It is God who feels all the anguish of the world with those who suffer. It is God who is most intimately involved.

The first reading comes to us from the Book of Genesis. It is the very familiar story of the binding of Isaac. It carries all the pathos of tragedy brought on by fidelity to God’s covenant and command. For the Jews, this story provides a paradigm for the Holocaust suffered under the Nazi regime: by raising them according to the Covenant and the Law, faithful Jews had bound their children, and indeed the whole next generation, and placed them bound on the persecutor’s pyre. That paradigm extends to every persecution of those faithful to their faith. The impact of the paradigm is hopeful also, because it carries the promise that God will not be out done in generosity.

St. Paul, in the passage from his Letter to the Romans, cannot but think of that generosity, allude to it, when he reflects on the death of Jesus, and extols the generosity of God who does not withhold what is most dear to him – Jesus who is uniquely his Son. St. Paul sees this as the ultimate pledge which shows that God will withhold nothing from us which God has to give – the fullest reconciliation and the most enduring love. Abraham was saved at the last minute from the consequences of his sacrifice, but God gave Jesus up to a sacrificial death that he might be our champion, our ambassador. There could be no greater gift, no greater compassion, no greater sharing of our troubled history.

The Gospel scene of the Transfiguration is the traditional reading for the Second Sunday of Lent. We are reminded that mountains are special places in the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Noah and his family exited the ark atop a mountain. Moses saw God face-to-face in the burning bush on Mount Horeb. Following the Exodus from Egypt, Moses once again saw God face-to-face on Mount Sinai. The prophet Elijah heard God’s voice in a tiny, whispering breeze atop a mountain. Jerusalem was built atop Mount Zion. Not only does the Transfiguration happened on a mountain, but Jesus dies on a cross on Mount Calvary. Although the mountain seems to be the dwelling place of God in the Jewish Scriptures, in the scene of the Transfiguration, a cloud, like the one that led the Jewish people through the desert, overshadowed the apostles who had been chosen to witness this event. From the cloud, a voice declared that this was God’s son, God’s beloved. The apostles were told to listen to him.

Peter speaks up and suggests that they set up three tents. Why would he suggest such a thing? It is rather obvious that Peter and his companions are overcome by the vision of Jesus flanked by Moses and Elijah. Who wouldn’t want to remain there? All of us would gladly seize a peak experience of consolation and remain there. However, they must follow Jesus down the mountain and enter the real world once again, the world of suffering, the world of conspiracy, the world wherein the powers of the day were seeking the death of Jesus.

If we are to take these three readings in their juxtaposition in total seriousness, we cannot fail to realize that Jesus himself accepted the reality that it is God who suffers in every victim because each of God’s creatures are infinitely precious, infinitely loved. In the story from the Book of Genesis, God assures us that human sacrifice is not part of God’s will; but there is always the possibility and the danger that we might sacrifice other people to satisfy our greed, our avarice, our desire for more possessions and greater power therein. Like the chief priests, elders, and Pharisees of the Gospels, we seem to continue the story of persecution and disregard for the sanctity of human life.

Our lives are also filled with mountaintop experiences, but the majority of our life finds us trudging through the valleys of suffering, grief, oppression, and of the loss of concern for human life. The experience of the Transfiguration of Jesus assures us that like him, God will also transform our lives if we remain faithful to God’s will and conform our lives to that of Jesus.