Transfiguration

Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent

Today’s Scripture passages take us all the way back to our ancestor in the faith, Abram. We meet him in this reading before he changed his name. His new name, Abraham, was a signal that he had been changed by his encounter with God. That encounter led him into a relationship with God, a very special relationship indeed. For Abraham was the only person in human history who God named a friend. There have been many prophets, men and women who would carry God’s word with them wherever they went. There were many kings, men who stood in the community as representatives of God’s governing power. There were many priests who offered sacrifice in the temple and lead God’s people in faith. However, there was only one among them whom God called “friend.”

The reading from the book of Genesis tells us of the ancient covenant that God cut with Abram. That covenant was a promise. It was sealed in the sacrifice, ritually done at dusk. This covenant will grow into the giving of the kingdom of God - with no boundaries. It is interesting to note that God took Abram outside. God cannot be bound by walls. God begins by drawing Abram out past his dwelling place, past security, past whatever he thought he was or what he believed his future held.

Our response to this covenant is Psalm 27, with its refrain: “The Lord is my light and my salvation.” That light draws us past our fears. It is deep within us, and our hearts seek it always. We cry out for God’s presence and believe that we will see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living even if it takes forever. In the meantime, we are to pray, live with courage, and wait for the Lord. This proclamation is our reality. God is our hope, our resting place, our past and present and future.

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul reminds us that we are first of all citizens of that kingdom that God established with Abram and that we dwell here waiting eagerly for the coming of Christ. We are not first citizens of the United States or any country but of the kingdom of God, and we are to live accordingly. We are to imitate Paul and other believers who set an example by taking up the cross. We are called to embrace that cross, not to fear it. Paul poses a question for us today: do we await with eagerness the coming of the Lord by practicing compassion, justice, sharing, and thanksgiving? Do we live in hope of the resurrection begun in baptism in our flesh and in the world, and desire its completion when all things are subject to Jesus Christ?

These readings are centered on the traditional gospel of this second Sunday of Lent, the account by Luke of the transfiguration on the mountain. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John – the leaders of his community, his friends, disciples, and family – up a mountain, the usual place where sacrifices and promises and encounters with God take place in the history of the Jewish community. There they are given a vision just as Abram was given a vision. While Jesus is praying, his face changes in appearance and his clothes become dazzlingly white. Moses and Elijah are seen talking with him about his passing, his exodus. Both Moses and Elijah have already experienced that passing over and are witnesses to what lies beyond. A voice from the cloud speaks: “This is my son, my chosen one. Listen to him.” Then there is silence, and Jesus is alone in the presence of his disciples. They are to tell no one what they saw because they would not be able understand the things that are about to happen – the crucifixion and the resurrection.

This is the heart of our religion – to pray with Jesus and to grow in understanding of the mystery of Jesus at the center of all history and life and religion. The mystery will be enacted in these next four weeks. Let us be still, listen, obey, and seek the face of God in the suffering of the earth, and so find ourselves close by this God hidden among us. Lent is about identity, the identity of Jesus and the God that Jesus serves and obeys, the identity of the spirit that drives Jesus in the world. It is also about our identity. Although we have not seen Jesus transfigured before us, we have seen him in each Eucharist that we celebrate. We must be led up the mountain to the place that gives us larger horizons and deeper hearts, so that we can be lured into the holy mystery that is God come among us in the word and in the Spirit. Then we will be able to transfigure the world by our faith and by loving kindness.*

(These ideas and words are excerpted from Megan McKenna’s Book “Lent: The Sunday Readings.”)