After trial, temptation — glory. After struggle and Satan’s worst — glory. That’s the word, the promise hidden in this early Lenten lesson. It’s meant to strengthen our faith, our hope and our love, too.
During Lent, the Church speaks first to her catechumens, to those seeking union with Christ in baptism. She speaks, though, to all of us, each of us invited to remember our discipleship, the cost and destiny of it.
We’re invited to remember that following Christ is to follow him into the desert, to experience temptation and the devil’s wiles just as he did. To be a disciple is necessarily to experience temptation, for the worldly are not tempted by the world. Only the faithful are tempted; only the faithful know enough of that better kingdom to know what tragedies lesser kingdoms promise, that they all will one day pass away into nothing. That is why we resist, refusing to give in, keeping faith, feeding on the word of God alone. Because we know what’s better.
| March 13 – Second Sunday of Lent |
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Gn 15:5-12, 17-18 |
Hence, the sweetness and mercy of this Sunday’s Gospel, the reason for remembering the mystery of the Transfiguration. His crucifixion still to come, his passion yet to unfold, here in prayer on the mountain Jesus’ “face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white” (Lk 9:29). As St. John Henry Newman put it, the Transfiguration shone as “a short gleam of the glory which was to be.” A manifestation in the middle of the journey, of divine reality and divine victory, the Transfiguration is a sacrament of promise, a secret meant to offer strength for the even more bitter trials to come.
Elijah and Moses both drew near to God’s glory in 40 days. Moses’ face shone with God’s brightness because of it (cf. Ex 34:29-30). Elijah was nourished by God in his 40 days, prepared to hear the “still small voice” of the Lord (1 Kg 19:8-13). We’re to learn from them why we should endure our 40 days of Lent, that it leads to covenant and glory, intimacy with God. Again, this glimpse of glory: It’s meant to help our faith, to show what it’s for and where we’re going — to that kingdom where Christ is dazzlingly bright and where we will be bright in his light, too.
But, of course, this isn’t just about asceticism, about the rewards of the rigors of prayer. We know this because with Moses and Elijah, Jesus was speaking about his “exodus” (Lk 9:31). Some translations read “departure.” What this means is Christ’s passion, his death and resurrection. Like entering the Promised Land through the Red Sea and the desert, so will be
Christ’s resurrection and ascension — we disciples following him in self-denying faith and baptism. And this deepens our understanding and experience of Lent, for it reveals the particular path our journey must take, that before we encounter the unending dazzling brightness of the kingdom, we must first know the night of betrayal and the darkness of Good Friday.
The Transfiguration is no mere mystical mountain experience; it shines only to light the rest of the way. The divine Son is revealed; God says, “listen to him” (Lk 9:35). Jesus will lead his disciples on to Jerusalem and to the cross; that’s what the Transfiguration illuminates. Such is why this luminous mystery belongs to Lent, because it reminds us that all our spiritual struggles — our prayer, fasting, resisting temptation — prepare us specifically to share in Christ’s passion, his death and resurrection that becomes ours. Not just a season of self-denial and prayer — although it is certainly that — the Transfiguration shows us that Lent is how Christians enter into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, reminding us what all these Lenten exercises are for. For Christ’s sacrifice and resurrected brightness, and ours, too.
Father Joshua J. Whitfield is pastor of St. Rita Catholic Community in Dallas and author of “The Crisis of Bad Preaching” (Ave Maria Press, $17.95) and other books.
