All of us have been given eyes. It's true that some of us live without this gift, but I sometimes think that blindness to physical realities makes one more perceptive to other realities that might otherwise be overlooked. The gospel for the Second Sunday of Lent, Year A (that's where we are these days) speaks of a special moment of grace entrusted to three of the disciples by Our Lord. You might say that he was giving them a different way to see the realities that were yet to come. Now if only we could learn to apply this to life and it's struggles here on earth, perhaps we would be that much further ahead of the game. Here then is the text (and the podcast version) of this week's homily entitled
From a distance
From the distance of half the circumference of the earth, we have been watching as more and more layers of the drama unfolding in Japan have unfolded over this past week. First there was an undersea earthquake, then there was a tsunami. The death toll has already been confirmed at more than 10,000 and it's still rising. Within days of the initial disaster, word spread that there was an even more dangerous reality: the quake had severely damaged the reactors at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant. Ever since, massive efforts have been underway to prevent further damage and the spread of radioactivity.
From a distance, we have also watched the images and heard the calls for freedom from oppression in North Africa and parts of the Arabian Gulf. Like the days of September 2001, when we watched from a distance as planes flew into the World Trade Centre and reeked havoc on Manhattan, all of this might in some sense seem surreal, like a television drama, except for the fact that some of our friends and families were in Japan when the tsunami hit, or who are experiencing first-hand the revolutions taking place in Libya. The disciples Peter, James and John must also have wondered whether the experiences they were privy to were actually real.
As though from a distance, we stand today and watch as the drama of the transfiguration unfolds. We see Peter, James and John with Jesus. In this case, they stand and watch like us as Jesus speaks with Moses and Elijah, as the entire scene is bathed in bright light, as though it was a Hollywood production. There are two other such scenes written about in the gospels. These same three disciples had previously been invited to witness the raising of the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue official, and these same three disciples were also the ones present in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus was praying during the night before his crucifixion. It wasn't by happenstance that Peter, James and John were invited to be witnesses to these events.
Because they had witnessed the synagogue official being raised from the dead, the disciples knew that there was something different about this man called Jesus. He didn't just tell stories about the kingdom, he actually seemed to possess an ability to bring it about, to accomplish the impossible. What's more, he was able to speak with the dead, with prophets whose stories were legend, but who had never been seen in the flesh by anyone of the current generation. Could it be that the transfiguration was meant to confirm Jesus story, and to help the disciples to believe that the words he spoke were not just another dramatic production, but that there truly is a heaven, a place to which we are all headed once this earthly life is complete?
Today's scriptures tell us that there was great excitement and joy on the mountaintop as the transfiguration was unfolding. Peter even wanted to stay there, to build tents, to somehow make this experience more permanent, but the transfiguration was meant not to continue for its own sake, but rather to reassure the hearts of those who witnessed it so that they would be able to console the others when another scene was unfolding before their eyes. The transfiguration was meant to prepare the disciples to see with eyes of faith and to understand that the trial before Pilate, the Way of the Cross, the crucifixion and the death of Jesus had to be. The transfiguration was meant to help them to inspire their friends to believe that tragedy is not the end of the story, that there is still another chapter, and the last chapter, the resurrection is the best one of all.
Doctors and other aid workers, priests and people of faith are present in Japan, in Libya, and right here in our midst, responding to the call for help, bandaging the wounded, consoling the dying and encouraging those who mourn, speaking (sometimes with words) the truths of our faith. Paul's letter to Timothy encourages all of us to believe that suffering in this world can be embraced for the sake of the gospel because Jesus is always close, always holding out his hand, always ready to console us, always holding before us the image of our own resurrection. Like Abram in the first reading, suffering and trial always call us beyond ourselves, to a land, to a country to a place we have not yet experienced. Suffering always brings with it some kind of growth, but only when the suffering is over, only once the resurrection has occurred can we appreciate the full extent of the growth, as we in turn assist others who must face their own challenges, not from a distance but walking with them side by side.
From a distance
From the distance of half the circumference of the earth, we have been watching as more and more layers of the drama unfolding in Japan have unfolded over this past week. First there was an undersea earthquake, then there was a tsunami. The death toll has already been confirmed at more than 10,000 and it's still rising. Within days of the initial disaster, word spread that there was an even more dangerous reality: the quake had severely damaged the reactors at the Fukushima Dai-ichi nuclear plant. Ever since, massive efforts have been underway to prevent further damage and the spread of radioactivity.
From a distance, we have also watched the images and heard the calls for freedom from oppression in North Africa and parts of the Arabian Gulf. Like the days of September 2001, when we watched from a distance as planes flew into the World Trade Centre and reeked havoc on Manhattan, all of this might in some sense seem surreal, like a television drama, except for the fact that some of our friends and families were in Japan when the tsunami hit, or who are experiencing first-hand the revolutions taking place in Libya. The disciples Peter, James and John must also have wondered whether the experiences they were privy to were actually real.
As though from a distance, we stand today and watch as the drama of the transfiguration unfolds. We see Peter, James and John with Jesus. In this case, they stand and watch like us as Jesus speaks with Moses and Elijah, as the entire scene is bathed in bright light, as though it was a Hollywood production. There are two other such scenes written about in the gospels. These same three disciples had previously been invited to witness the raising of the daughter of Jairus, the synagogue official, and these same three disciples were also the ones present in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus was praying during the night before his crucifixion. It wasn't by happenstance that Peter, James and John were invited to be witnesses to these events.
Because they had witnessed the synagogue official being raised from the dead, the disciples knew that there was something different about this man called Jesus. He didn't just tell stories about the kingdom, he actually seemed to possess an ability to bring it about, to accomplish the impossible. What's more, he was able to speak with the dead, with prophets whose stories were legend, but who had never been seen in the flesh by anyone of the current generation. Could it be that the transfiguration was meant to confirm Jesus story, and to help the disciples to believe that the words he spoke were not just another dramatic production, but that there truly is a heaven, a place to which we are all headed once this earthly life is complete?
Today's scriptures tell us that there was great excitement and joy on the mountaintop as the transfiguration was unfolding. Peter even wanted to stay there, to build tents, to somehow make this experience more permanent, but the transfiguration was meant not to continue for its own sake, but rather to reassure the hearts of those who witnessed it so that they would be able to console the others when another scene was unfolding before their eyes. The transfiguration was meant to prepare the disciples to see with eyes of faith and to understand that the trial before Pilate, the Way of the Cross, the crucifixion and the death of Jesus had to be. The transfiguration was meant to help them to inspire their friends to believe that tragedy is not the end of the story, that there is still another chapter, and the last chapter, the resurrection is the best one of all.
Doctors and other aid workers, priests and people of faith are present in Japan, in Libya, and right here in our midst, responding to the call for help, bandaging the wounded, consoling the dying and encouraging those who mourn, speaking (sometimes with words) the truths of our faith. Paul's letter to Timothy encourages all of us to believe that suffering in this world can be embraced for the sake of the gospel because Jesus is always close, always holding out his hand, always ready to console us, always holding before us the image of our own resurrection. Like Abram in the first reading, suffering and trial always call us beyond ourselves, to a land, to a country to a place we have not yet experienced. Suffering always brings with it some kind of growth, but only when the suffering is over, only once the resurrection has occurred can we appreciate the full extent of the growth, as we in turn assist others who must face their own challenges, not from a distance but walking with them side by side.
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