A homily for the Second Sunday of Lent, March 16, 2025
Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18, Philippians 3:17—4:1, Luke 9:28b-36
In James Cameron’s “Avatar” movies, the tall blue Na’vi people greet each other, and especially greet their loved ones, with “I see you.”
To the fictional Na’vi, “I see you” means a wide variety of things: “I see into you,” “I understand you,” “I respect you,” or “I love you.”
All of which intersect at “I know who you truly are.”
Atop the high mountain where Jesus led them, God gave Peter, James and John the gift of being able to tell Christ, “I see you.”
The experience they were given was dazzling, enlightening, life-changing, inspiring, terrifying, puzzling … and momentary. “Did it even happen?” they certainly were asking themselves. “It must have, because we all saw the same thing. Or did we?”
All three of the synoptic Gospel accounts of the Transfiguration of Jesus share the basic details. Matthew’s, Mark’s and today’s passage from Luke’s Gospel agree on the mountaintop, the blinding light, the ancient Israelite leaders representing The Law and The Prophets, and the voice of God proclaiming Jesus as his beloved or chosen Son.
The Gospel accounts differ on the fear factor, and only Matthew’s of the three quotes The Father as being well-pleased with The Son. The three evangelists are also fuzzy on why the Apostle witnesses stayed mum about the experience.
But in every case, the three Apostles saw the fully divine Jesus. And then, poof! He was the Nazarene carpenter turned itinerant rabbi all over again.
Which begs the question: Why had none of The Twelve spotted this before? They walked with him, ate with him, starved with him, slept alongside him and were just as ridiculed as Jesus could be in some of the villages where he tried to spread his Good News.
We can call it not seeing the forest for the trees. We can call it myopia. We can call it being too close to the person and situation to get the full perspective.
The Apostles and other disciples indeed were that close to Our Lord, and they pinned their lives’ hopes and dreams on him when they chose to follow him anywhere and everywhere forever. They probably didn’t expect what proved to be the truth of Christ’s life and mission.
The Transfiguration of Jesus added a mystical element to the Apostles’ relationship with him. For Peter, James and John, at least, this experience may well have put to rest any anticipation that Jesus would take up arms against the occupying Romans and the complicit Israelite hierarchy.
Jesus is above that, dazzlingly so. We are reminded of that always, but in particular, every year at this Second Sunday of Lent.
We are also reminded always, but in particular, every year at this Second Sunday of Lent, that we need to see each other for who we really are. We are reminded that Christ dwells within every person, and that the Christ within ourselves is challenged — mandated — to care for every sister and brother and all of God’s Creation.
Yes, we may be too close to some situations to recognize the suffering servants carrying their crosses. We may need some perspective.
But if, unlike the Apostles, we expect to find Christ in every face we see, in every hand we grasp, in all the eyes we gaze into and connect with, then we will know how to help.
And they will hear us say, “I see you.”
