February 26, 2024
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent (Year B) on February 25, 2024 at the Paulist Center in Boston, MA. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Genesis 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18; Psalm 116; Romans 8:31b-34; and Mark 9:2-10.
In our first reading today, God finally fulfills the covenant he made with Abraham decades before. As disturbing and as violent as this story may sound, let’s keep in mind that in the time of Abraham nearly 4,000 years ago, almost all Middle Eastern tribes believed in sacrificing their first-born children to appease the gods of fertility. Despite what the Bible says, I doubt that it was God who gave Abraham the idea that he was supposed to sacrifice Isaac. To me, the main — and most miraculous — point of the story is that God spares Isaac.
Our gospel passage today takes place on another mountaintop. Let us take a moment to pause and ask ourselves:
- What have been the mountaintop experiences of our spiritual journeys so far?
- How have those experiences sustained us when we’ve later traveled through an empty desert or a dark valley?
Let us remember that both on the peaks and in the valleys of the journey, God is always beside us, ready to shower us with mercy.
As Peter, James, and John saw the transfigured Jesus speaking with Moses the law-giver and Elijah the prophet, it surely was an awe-inspiring sight. It had seemed crazy for these fishermen to have quit their jobs to follow an itinerant carpenter, but this moment finally confirmed that they had made a wise choice: Jesus was God’s beloved. The three disciples had been in a wildly different mood a few days before that, when Jesus first revealed that he was heading to Jerusalem to suffer and to die. No wonder Peter wanted to stay at the top of the mountain and bask in the glory of the Transfiguration, rather than to head down into the valley of destruction and death.
Today’s crucial story about Abraham is revered by approximately half of the world’s population. The Jewish people believe that the Holy of Holies in the Jerusalem Temple was built on the exact spot where Abraham prepared to sacrifice Isaac. It is no coincidence that Jesus was condemned to death only a stone’s throw away from that spot. Muslims believe that Abraham sacrificed a different son, and that it happened at the Qaaba in Mecca, which is why Muslim make the hajj to Mecca and face towards Mecca as they pray. Even existentialist philosophers find inspiration in Søren Kirkegaard’s essay that imagines Abraham’s thinking at the moment he attempted to sacrifice Isaac. But most of us today don’t hear this as a positive moment in humanity’s relationship with God. Would a loving, merciful God really put Abraham “to the test” by demanding that he sacrifice his son?
And then there’s us here today at the Paulist Center. Attentive to the Holy Spirit, this community provides welcome, reconciliation, and justice to people who have struggled to find a home within the Church. One ingredient in the “special sauce” of our beloved community is the presence of the Paulist Fathers. But today, the Paulists have only one third as many priests as we did 60 years ago. We Paulists have constantly discerned how best to deploy our limited resources. As a missionary society, just like at the Paulist Center itself, we constantly assess if we can start a new ministry, if we can continue the ministries we have, or if we need to withdraw from a ministry. Even if you’ve been here for the past decade, you might not have realized that the Paulists discerned on separate occasions that they needed to withdraw from Toronto and Portland, Oregon. If you’ve been around for 20 years, you probably remember when the Paulists engaged in a comprehensive process assessing all our foundations and eventually withdrawing from Boulder, Clemson, Santa Barbara, and Tuscon. In fact, since 1980, the Paulists have withdrawn from about 20 cities in the United States, Canada, and the Holy Land. Almost all of these withdrawals were heartbreaking for everyone involved. And now, the Paulists are doing another comprehensive assessment. All people connected with the Paulists in the remaining 11 cities in which we serve — including right here in Boston — are on edge. Processes like these, no matter how well planned, leave plenty of room for criticism. I, for one, am upset with how things were communicated, but honestly, I’m scared, and perhaps I’m looking for someone else to blame for the current situation. In the next few weeks, the Paulists will make decisions that will leave worshipping communities without priests, employees without jobs, and senior Paulists without the homes in which they planned to live for the rest of their days. We won’t know for a few weeks whether the Paulist Center will be affected by the decisions made.
In this uncertainty, let me offer two analogies, openly acknowledging that they are far from perfect. All of us in the Paulist Center Community — along with Paulists, employees, collaborators, Associates, and parishioners in California, Florida, Illinois, Michigan, New Jersey, New York, Tennessee, Texas, Washington DC, and Italy — are currently walking through the dark valley alongside Jesus, Peter, James, and John. The General Council of the Paulist Fathers — and their lay collaborators who will discern our future next month — join Abraham ascending Mt. Moriah, compelled to carry out a task that they do not want to do.
In the cases of Abraham & Isaac, Jesus & the apostles, and the current Paulist discernment process, this homily so far has focused on the uncertain middle of the stories. Today, we know that Isaac was spared, making Abraham a common ancestor to 3 of the world’s 5 major religions. Today, we know that Jesus rose again from the dead, teaching us about God’s unlimited love for us. And by redistributing our limited resources to best support our evolving mission, the Paulist Fathers have continued to find innovative ways to influence the American Catholic Church. Even as we’ve withdrawn from 20 foundations since 1980, we’ve found other ways to expand our impact.
Fr. Rick and I have faith-filled optimism that the Paulists will continue to serve at the Paulist Center. The Center is uniquely positioned to carry out the Paulist mission. The Center is also a fantastic location for our senior priests. But nothing is guaranteed. I still hope to serve as the Director of the Paulist Center into the year 2030, and I will do what I can this week to advocate for the Paulist Center before the General Council’s decision-making phase begins the following week. I also think that this discernment process is a wake-up call for the Paulist Center Community to consider what we can do to entice as many Paulists as possible to want to serve here.
This weekend is a time for us to contemplate the differences between three words we often use in Lent: change, transform, and transfigure. To be changed means to become different, maybe just temporarily. To be transformed means to become thoroughly or dramatically different, but not necessarily better. But to be transfigured means to be elevated, to become thoroughly or dramatically more beautiful. As we will observe with remarkable intensity over the next five weeks, the transfiguration of God’s love for us comes through the elevation of the cross.
This Lent, are we praying for our lives to be changed, transformed, or transfigured? Likewise, are we praying that the Paulist Center, everyone in the entire network of Paulist ministry, and our world be changed, transformed, or transfigured? Changing is relatively easy. But to be transfigured requires the guidance of the Holy Spirit.