Second Sunday of Lent
Our first reading today will sound strange to modern ears. Walking between the dissected carcasses of animals was one of the rituals employed in ratifying treaties. The thinking behind this ritual was that if the treaty is breached, the same bloody fate will befall the offending party. But the important point of the reading is not the ritual of ratification, but the covenant itself. (Brazier, now 'smoking furnace') God promises Abram that he will make his descendants as many as the stars of heaven or the sands of the seashore. Despite an apparently infertile marriage, Abram puts his faith in God. With God's help, a barren union produces a great nation.
The gospel account of the Transfiguration is read every year on the Second Sunday of Lent. The fate of Jesus will be that of all his faithful followers. In former times, Lent peaked with the Good Friday. Today's story reminds us that Good Friday is neither the end nor the high point of our Lenten devotion. We are an Easter people, and Easter and resurrection is our wholehearted goal.
Jesus took with him Peter, James and John up to the mountain to pray, we are told. As our Preface today puts it: "He had already prepared them for his approaching death... He wanted to teach them that the promised Christ had first to suffer and so come to the glory of his resurrection." The incident did not have the desired effect. All three either fell asleep or ran away when the crisis came. But the mountain experience did confirm the three Apostles in this conviction: in the person of Jesus, they were dealing with a reality that reached beyond human experience. On that hill this divine dimension broke through. They were dealing here, not merely with a social reformer or a political visionary; they were dealing with a man who had a unique relationship with God. The intensity of that relation was obvious to all on the mountain.
However, not only are Peter, John and James permitted to experience a new dimension of Jesus, but they also hear a voice from heaven that applies that dimension to themselves: "This is my chosen Son; listen to Him." The implication is that anyone who forms a relationship with God's Son will one day share in the transfiguration of God's Son. Peter's reaction is interesting: "Let us make three tents," said Peter, "one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah." The Luke remarks: "He did not know what he was saying." The good news is good news for the whole human race, not reserved for the elite few.
Yet even after such a life-changing experience, Luke mentions that the three "found Jesus alone." Though everything had changed internally, externally they were still living the same life they shared before they went up the mountain. No wonder they "did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen."
So the apostles had to come down from the hill with Jesus. This brush with the divine had social consequences: they must now help him translate his divine dream into human reality. They had been through the ecstasy; now the agony lay ahead. Their journey would eventually take them to another hill outside Jerusalem where they would hear him cry out in pain and pray for his enemies.
While the transfiguration was an extraordinary event, it wasn't an isolated incident. It was entirely consistent with the way Jesus lived out his life and worked with the people. Through his work and his healing, he transfigured and transformed many, many people. From the very beginning he outlined his aims: to make the deaf hear, the dumb speak and the lame walk. In other less dramatic instances, he touched people at the very depth of their souls. He transfigured them with the power of God's love, that same power which transfigured Jesus himself.
All four gospels are shot through with examples of the transfiguring or transforming power of Jesus. We are called to the ministry of change. But we must be prepared also to accompany him down through the valley of tears and on to the hill of Calvary. If we are to be transfigured by his message we must do strange and sometimes painful things indeed: like forgiving our enemies and praying for them, maintaining hope in a world that sometimes seems hopeless, turning the other cheek, giving away our coat to the man who has none, and so on. This is where the shadow of the cross intrudes in a practical way. The message learned on the mountain must be lived in the valleys. Through living his message we are being gradually transfigured. But we hold out the hope that some day all will be utterly transfigured. But we must leave the choosing of that day to him. Our challenge is to remain with Christ on whatever hill, or in whatever valley, we find ourselves. Because we are assured that he will be there waiting for us.