A homily for the Second Sunday of Lent, February 25, 2024
Gn 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18, Rom 8:31b-34, Mk 9:2-10
We all know about Clark Kent, right? Mild-mannered reporter for The Daily Planet, who wanted a job someplace where he could hear about emergencies or disasters anywhere in the world.
And why was he so interested in hot topics? Was he some sort of news junkie?
No.
As we all know, every time he took off his glasses and otherwise changed his outfit, he was duty-bound to go and help people in trouble. Whenever he arrived to save the day, everyone around him saw his true self, his true identity, the identity he kept secret the rest of the time.
So what does a fictional comic-book superhero have to do with today’s Scripture readings? Am I being just a little — or very — irreverent by using this familiar example as a way to help understand the miracle of the Transfiguration?
I hope not.
Let’s think about the parallels for a second, shall we?
Peter, James and John knew Jesus as their leader, their teacher, their uniquely gifted rabbi. They knew this man, this fully human man who ate and slept and laughed and played and worked with them, as somebody special. Somebody out of the ordinary, to be sure.
But they knew him as a man, someone who got hungry and thirsty and cranky and probably even had bed head and camel breath before his morning coffee.
Yes, they had heard him speak as none had ever spoken before; they had heard him preach and teach and live the Law of Love. They had seen his healing touch in action.
They knew there was something incredibly special about this man that compelled them to follow him. They ditched their previous lives to get calluses on their feet and hands while walking from village to village with this man.
And while hiking uphill, as we hear in today’s Gospel.
Peter, James and John were probably out of breath, with leg cramps, as they hauled themselves up the high mountain behind this man.
This man they would have followed anywhere.
This man they did follow anywhere, for the rest of their lives.
And atop that mountain, which St. Mark chose not to specify, the true identity of Jesus was revealed by his heavenly Father, who not only named Jesus as his only-begotten Son, but also declared that who Jesus is, and that what Jesus is doing and saying, are completely in tune with God’s will.
And by showing the friends of Jesus that their rabbi knows Moses and Elijah personally, God revealed that their Messiah is the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.
Even if Peter, James and John didn’t quite understand at first.
There can be no doubt that the Transfiguration threw these Apostles for a loop. In a flash — a literal flash of divine light — they went from “Our friend is a pretty amazing dude” to “Who is this guy?”
They’d never see Jesus the same way again.
And yet, once the four men came down from on high, they were sweaty and hungry and thirsty, as any men would be.
Yes, their friend and leader was still a guy like them, except he wasn’t, except he was and is and never stopped being one.
Peter, James and John — and all of us — now had a lot to digest.
The “rising from the dead” part didn’t help them understand what they’d experienced any easier.
Elsewhere in the Gospels, there are many times when Jesus orders someone not to tell anyone about a miracle but they blab anyway. This time, I don’t think Peter, James and John had any trouble keeping what they saw and heard under their hats.
After the Easter miracle of Jesus’s Resurrection, it all made sense at last.
We’re all children of the Resurrection. We live at a time when we recognize Jesus as True God and True Man. Our faith is founded on that settled truth.
We can be dazzled by the Light of Christ and, through prayer, offer our One God in Three Persons honor, praise and gratitude in massive, massive amounts.
At the same time, Christ calls us to see the least among us, on whom his Light also shines. Whom his love blankets. They are fellow children of God, fellow humans exactly the way Jesus was when he walked the Earth. They are our sisters and brothers, Jesus’s sisters and brothers, created in the image and likeness of God.
And through our actions — world-transforming actions and random acts of kindness as well — we show that we are obeying God’s command on that mountaintop:
“This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”
