SECOND SUNDAY OF LENT
Cycle “C”: Luke 9, 28 – 36
The Transfiguration of the Lord
High above
Jerusalem, on Mt. Tabor, Jesus was transformed and transfigured - his
human body, suffused with divinity, was a dazzling spectacle. How infinitely
splendid Jesus must have appeared during his glorious transfiguration,
outshining a million suns in his divine glory. The Old Testament figures of
Moses and Elijah appeared by his side, absorbed in conversation with him. The
Transfiguration was the meeting place of the Old and the New Covenant. Moses
represented the Law, Elijah the prophets; the three apostles, Peter, James and
John, were the leaders of the New Testament community. At this point of
meeting, the voice of the Father bore witness to his Son, the chosen, the
fulfilment of his promises of old and the pledge of life and hope for the
future. The Transfiguration of the Lord is charged with promise.
Jesus’ three disciples were bedazzled and
ecstatic in their wonderment, privileged, as they were to glimpse for a moment
his transcendent power as he prayed to his Father. Peter, confused but desiring
to capture the glory permanently, suggested pitching separate tents for Jesus,
Moses and Elijah. It was not to be. They could not prolong this peak experience
but had to come down the mountain and resume their tasks in the world. The
disciples had to realize that even though they saw the “Beloved Son”, pointed
out by the Father, in the glory that was natural to him, that beautiful Son
would not get away with glory. He would descend Mt. Tabor to ascend Mt.
Calvary.
That’s the kind of God we have come to
know -
a God whose glory is spelled out in wounds, painful cries, darkness, and
death. A God pretty much like we are; worse off than we are.
The Bible story is about how God makes
himself known and about his dealings with us. His presence is realized in the
here and now of human life. Jesus stayed with that human life, was wholly
involved in it. In him that human life was transformed and transfigured by a
transfusion of the divine. And on Mt. Tabor Peter saw it and knew it. And in
his wonder and awe at what he saw and heard, his words came tumbling out, the
best he could find: “Master, it is good for us to be here.” We too can expect
the Lord to allow us to glimpse and taste the heavenly life to which we are
called. This can come in a variety of ways: a blessed time of prayer, an
inspired insight into Scripture, the loving closeness of God. Such moments of
anointing and blessing are God’s gifts to strengthen us so we too can take up
our cross and follow Jesus Christ. Let me tell you the story of Sheila Cassidy,
a still practicing medical doctor. She left England in 1971 to escape the
“rat-race” of professionalism of British medicine to go to Chile to work among
the poorest of the poor. In 1975, Dr. Cassidy was arrested by the Chilean
police for having treated the bullet wounds of a revolutionary leader. At an
interrogation centre she was stripped, tied to a bead, and tortured with
electrodes attached to her body. Then she was placed in solitary confinement
for three weeks and imprisoned in a detention camp for another five weeks
before she was finally released and expelled from the country. About that
horrific experience this is what Dr. Sheila Cassidy wrote in her book, Audacity
to Believe, “I did not hate the men who had hurt us…The freedom of spirit
we enjoyed was something that our captors did not possess. Incredibly, in the
midst of fear and loneliness, I was filled with joy, for I knew without any
vestige of doubt that God was with me, and that nothing they could do to me
could change that.”
Any transformation in us - any
transfiguration - has to come from within, by the power of
God’s grace. We are all awkward customers, plagued by our own follies and by
the very many difficulties of being human in a world that runs to so much
inhumanity. We are not easy to work with or to work through.
It is important to handle every experience
to the best of your ability now. You may have to practise more patience, strive
that much harder, reach inside yourself for a little more strength, muster a
little more faith in God and yourself. If after you have given everything you
have to give, you still come up short, you will have nothing to be ashamed of.
You can experience the inner peace of those who know they gave their all. You
will be a success regardless of the outcome. You will be better, not bitter,
knowing that in God’s presence you did your best.
So, my dear friends, we can say, and with
all others who bear witness to the work of God in the midst of us, we can say
with thanksgiving and wonder:
“Lord, it is good to be here.”
PRAYER: One
of the best-loved hymns written
by
Isaac Watts of Southampton (1674 – 1748: 74 years)
Lord of the worlds above,
How pleasant and how fair
The dwellings of thy love,
Thy earthly temples, are!
To
thine abode
My hearts aspires,
With warm desires
To see my God;
O happy souls that pray
Where God appoints to hear!
O happy men that pay
Their constant service there!
They praise thee still;
And happy they
That love the way
To Zion’s hill.
They go from strength to strength
Through this dark vale of tears,
Till each arrives at length,
Till each in heaven appears:
O glorious seat!
When God our King
Shall thither bring
Our willing feet.
from my Diary
How infinitely splendid you look, my glorious Lord Jesus Christ!
I am ecstatic in my wonderment.
Powerful, glorious, transcendent, ineffable.
And it is your nature as God the Son;
God, as He beholds himself,
knows Himself in one eternally present act of self-possession.
But God-as-He-knows Himself is going to pass, "go across" ("trans")
from one self-knowledge to another:
an emptying, shattering, utterly crushing self-knowledge.
Here I break down and weep, and I raise my heart to you,
my dearest Lord, for the way you emptied and lowered Yourself
so that you could meet me in my brokenness and misery.
How infinitely splendid you look, my glorious Lord Jesus Christ!
I am ecstatic in my wonderment.
Powerful, glorious, transcendent, ineffable.
And it is your nature as God the Son;
God, as He beholds himself,
knows Himself in one eternally present act of self-possession.
But God-as-He-knows Himself is going to pass, "go across" ("trans")
from one self-knowledge to another:
an emptying, shattering, utterly crushing self-knowledge.
Here I break down and weep, and I raise my heart to you,
my dearest Lord, for the way you emptied and lowered Yourself
so that you could meet me in my brokenness and misery.
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