24 February 2024 – 2nd Sunday of Lent (Year B) (Sunset Mass)

by Fr Fabian Dicom

This story of the Transfiguration which we always reserve for the 2nd Sunday of Lent captures the heart of Lent and Christianity itself. Transfiguration. Perhaps some may find transformation a more relatable term. Anyway, the significance of the Transfiguration of Jesus lies primarily in the affirmation of His Divine nature, foreshadowing His eventual Resurrection and serving as a revelation of His glory to select disciples. Death, being an integral part of that equation. As we reflect on this profound event, we may still find ourselves grappling with the ultimate message.

The end of the Gospel is the ultimate message that they were discussing. They discussed what ‘rising from the dead‘ could mean. Like Peter, James and John, we wonder about the meaning of Jesus’ rising from the dead. What does it truly signify? It is worth noting that many Jewish people, like the disciples, both in the past and today, don’t necessarily hold the belief in eternal life. For them, this life is all there is.

On the other hand, as Christians, we profess our belief in life after death. Yet at times, this belief has led us to overlook the importance of the present world, focusing solely on the next, being preoccupied with heaven and hell, the cause and effect, what is going to happen to us, how do we prepare for the next world. Let us remember that while we anticipate the afterlife, we are called to fully engage with and cherish the world around us.

Now let us take a moment to reflect on this. When we talk about ‘rising from the dead‘, it is not about avoiding or denying death. It is about transformation. It means facing death head on and allowing it to change us. Now this sounds a little difficult and I am also grappling with that.

How does one even begin to navigate this? Soon we will be celebrating Easter. What does that really mean? Now I rely on some of the insights by Fr Richard Rohr, one of my favourite persons I refer to. Perhaps even before we dive into the depths of letting go and facing death and reflecting about it, we must first ascend like the disciples in the Gospel today. Ascend. We need to understand what goodness is, to feel its warmth before we can navigate the challenges that makes sense of the darkness.

Now, many struggle to find meaning because they have never experienced the highs of a mountain-top moment. When we refer to a mountain-top moment, we are talking about the times when we experience the power, love and grace of God in a way that is difficult to put into words. And I am sure you have had the experience. They are not the stuff of everyday life. That is what this Gospel teaches us today.

It is interesting how Jesus chose only three of His disciple for this significant occasion. Perhaps suggesting that the others were not quite ready. So He leads Peter, James and John up a high mountain for this mountain-top experience, creating this peak experience for them. Moses and Elijah, symbols of law, and the prophets respectively, stand with Jesus, representing unity in diversity. As they vanish, imagine this, Jesus remains alone, embodying within Him the merging of the three into one.

This unity mirrors the enlightenment or the peak experiences we seek. Richard Rohr says that until we have had such moments, our lives may feel fragmented, disjointed. But through enlightenment, everything falls into place, perhaps not logically, but falls into place spiritually.

Think about it. You have had that experience, when things are all still logically disjointed but you still think it is okay. You still think it is okay. And suddenly even the lowest point find their purpose in the better narratives of our lives. It can happen anywhere. I have had personal experiences. You’ve definitely had that. You can have it lying down, during your prayer, while driving, even in the shower, with an encounter with someone. It happens.

But here, the disciples’ initial reaction to this profound experience wasn’t one of excitement. It was fear. They were overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of a world where things seem to be okay.

Many of us tend to find motivation in solving problems. We convince ourselves that if we can just fix what is wrong, everything will be okay. Yet we often find ourselves trapped in a cycle where tomorrow brings new problems. And the quest for resolution truly never ends. I know this from personal experience. I know these from experiences of people.

The person who is very, very close to me, doing well in life, retired. And I asked him: ‘Okay, so now you have settled everything.’
“No, I still have a few things. My son is not married yet.” Well, the son got married.
“I don’t know how he is going to manage.” Well, he manages.
Then okay maybe it is time for you to take a break, have a holiday.
‘No, I need to see if my daughter is okay.‘ And the list goes on.
One day, he finds himself with a bit of illness. ‘I will wait until all this is over.‘
And he never gets to enjoy or be at peace. I believe he is at peace with the Lord right now.

Moving on, in the Gospel, ‘then a voice speaks.‘ But before that, a cloud descends. I want you to imagine this because only if you can imagine it, it works better. Reminiscent of Moses’ experience atop Mount Sinai. Just as Moses encounter God and then was enveloped in a cloud, so too here. What does this signify?

Well, spiritual messages are rarely crystal clear. I will get worried if someone comes and tells me they are very, very clear about what God is telling them every moment of their lives. Perhaps it happens, but…

Sometimes we grasp them. Other times, they allude us. We might understand one moment and be completely perplexed and mystified in the next. That is why faith is such a challenge. It is the interplay of certainty and doubt. And we need to be comfortable with that. It is a interplay of belief and scepticism as well. And it is okay. It is okay.

Yet, faith is about finding peace in the midst of this uncertainty. It is about learning to live with the unknown because we trust in the higher wisdom that assures us ‘It is okay.’ That is what faith truly is.

If we lack the assurance that there is someone good and trustworthy to rely on, descending back into the ordinary world, like the disciples, becomes a frightening task. Yet, this is precisely what Jesus instructs His disciples to do. But not before they hear the resounding message. And what is that?

This is my beloved Son. 

That is what they got to rely on. “This is my beloved Son.” This message lies in the heart of every spiritual encounter, my dear brothers and sisters. It is about knowing, even if just for a fleeting moment, that you are deeply cherished, a beloved child of God. It is not merely an understanding in our heads but a profound feeling that permeates every fibre of our very being, every cell in your body.

And when we fully grasp this belovedness, we can walk through the world with the sense of joy and confidence, knowing that we are radically okay, radically a beloved of God. If throughout this whole Lent, we will struggle through all our practices, we have got the Lenten Campaign, we have got formation, etc, but at the end of this, if you can take away, convincingly, that you are the beloved, that is done. That is done.

The disciples may hesitate to leave the mountain top but that is exactly where Jesus guides them, back into the ordinary world. Now my dear brothers and sisters, we cannot forever dwell in peak experiences. We must return to our everyday lives.  We cannot be moving from one prayer meet to another. We cannot move from one, depend on only church worship alone, or fire weekends. Maybe we change it to ‘earth weekends’, come down to earth.

These experiences are profound but it cannot be an addiction or a misconception about what a mountain-top experience is. Perhaps we may not be aware of the invitation to have a profound encounter. Or like the nine others who were left behind, maybe we were not ready. Maybe we missed it because we were focused on just problem-solving. Or we were relying on some pseudo-mountain-top experiences peddled by unscrupulous and manipulative persons leading our prayer groups or a church or even some doubtful teaching or program.

We just don’t experience being the beloved. And that is an indicator about these experiences. When you come out not convinced or even some moment of conviction, then something is wrong. We may doubt whether God is truly loved, whether we are indeed beloved sons and daughters. But then again, perhaps that uncertainty brings you here each weekend, hoping to find the faith to believe.  It brings me here too.

Know that this journey, this questioning is good. It is where God leads us all. Our role is simply to step aside, if we can do it, and allow Him to guide us. Step aside and let Him guide.

Let us not burden ourselves too heavily with our limitations, with our sins. For to do that is to take ourselves too seriously. We are all sinners. And also, let us not take our moments of supposed perfection too seriously either. They will pass, I assure you. Instead, let us embrace the beautiful messiness, the kelam-kabutness, of being human. Can or not? That is all. The mixture of imperfection and goodness that defines all of us. It is a wonder that God chooses to love us as we are.

Our task, sounds like Mission Impossible, you know if you want to take it, your task is simply to accept being accepted. Accept being accepted.

And may we extend that love and acceptance to all we encounter.

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