March 9, 2020
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent (Year A) on March 8, 2020 at St. Austin Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 33; 2 Timothy 1:8b-10; and Matthew 17:1-9.
Today we hear again of the Transfiguration, believed to have taken place on Mt. Tabor. From there, Jesus would have had a sweeping view of the Jezreel Valley. For millennia, the Jezreel Valley has been one of the most important travel routes connecting Africa, Asia, and Europe. In the ancient world, you couldn’t get much of anywhere in the world without passing through it. Whoever controlled the Jezreel Valley controlled intercontinental trade. The most important city in the valley, called Megiddo, has been built and destroyed twenty-five times over the past 7,000 years as various empires have fought to control this valley. The Book of Revelation says that the final battle between good and evil will be fought in this valley, often called “the plain of Megiddo” or “Armageddon.”
And it was here, on a strangely semi-spherical mountain, overlooking a plain, rich with history, that Jesus and three apostles climbed for reassurance. Was it for Jesus to give reassurance to Peter, James, and John, or was it for Moses and Elijah to give reassurance to Jesus?
At this point on our Lenten journey, as we once again confess our sins, let us be reassured that with God on our side, our world can be reconciled, protected, and transfigured through our own fight against evil.
I visited Mt. Tabor for the third time in my life 18 days ago. Jesus probably visited the mountain many times over the years, as it was only about 8 miles from where he grew up in Nazareth. From there, Jesus, Peter, James, and John overlooked the Jezreel Valley, scene of so many important battles – those waged by Egyptian pharaohs against the Canaanites and by Philistine armies trying to expand into Israelite territory. Did Jesus know that it was here that the Crusaders would lose to Saladin, that Napoleon would defeat the Ottomans, or that John of Patmos would predict the final battle between good and evil?
The Jezreel Valley was a place where many soldiers met their death. But it was also a place of beauty and life. Until two million years ago, the Jezreel Valley had been submerged as a channel that connected the Mediterranean Sea to what became the two major bodies of water in the Holy Land. As geological forces raised this land upwards out of the water, it became the best farming land in the region, the “heart” of the Holy Land.
And what Peter, James, and John saw there was truly astounding. Jesus is miraculously affirmed in his vocation by God, as well as by the presence of Moses and Elijah – the embodiment of the Jewish Law and the Jewish Prophetic Tradition. I imagine that Peter wanted to stay up there because things seemed easy. Jesus was God’s Beloved. Triumph was assured. Who would want to go back down into the valley? Jesus had already told them that they were headed to Jerusalem for him to suffer and die. Why pass through this valley where there was death, hard work to do, and many previous defeats of the people of Israel?
Mt. Tabor is an interesting place to contemplate the differences between three words we often use in Lent: change, transform, and transfigure. To be changed means to become different. Lots of us make changes in our habits during Lent, only to revert to our old ways once Lent is over. To be transformed means to become thoroughly or dramatically different. It’s still a neutral term: transformation may be thorough, but it’s 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 for our world to be changed, transformed, or transfigured? Even when we use the verb in a positive sense, changing the world is relatively easy. We do our part to build towards an easy-to-see, straightforward goal, and we trust that others will do their part, too. But to transfigure the world requires us to build consensus towards a harder-to-see goal with no clear pathway to achieve it. Such a goal requires us to believe that God will sustain us at every moment of the endeavor, because we know that we cannot achieve it otherwise.
Over the past few months, I’ve become more aware of how much I have approached my environmental goals as making changes, rather than desiring transfiguration.1 I want to use less rare earth metals in my electronics, less gas in my transportation, and less single-use plastic in packaging my food, but such changes aren’t going to transfigure the world. Sr. Dianne Bergant said recently: “To say we recycle is kindergarten. To say we reuse is high school. It’s good, but not enough. To say ‘I don’t need it’ is graduate school.”
The most challenging document that Pope Francis has written is Laudato Si’, his encyclical on sustainable development. Like many of Francis’ documents written for the general public, Laudato Si’ is engaging, easy to read, and very long. It has been dismissed by critics as an unrealistic document about climate change, but that is not the case. It is a graduate-school-level challenge to those of us who can influence public policy regarding environmental transfiguration. Pope Francis challenges us on why the best public facilities – such as parks and museums – are placed out of the reach of our poorest neighbors. He points out that those of us with sufficient means to move to a new location don’t suffer the effects of environmental degradation nearly as much as people who do not have the ability to move or migrate. He asks us to search for solutions to stop pollution, to eliminate threats to the water supply, to stem the loss of biodiversity, and to reverse the growing economic inequality in our world.
Friends: we’ve all sat through graduation speeches that have told us that we can change the world. Today, I invite us all to realize that, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we can transfigure the world. What can the Holy Spirit accomplish in each of us, starting today? One idea: come to Monday night’s meeting at St. Austin to dream what we can do to truly celebrate Earth Day next month in a world-transfiguring way. Check the bulletin for details, and contact Kristen if you can’t make the meeting.
Mt. Tabor is one of my favorite places to visit in the Holy Land. With a magnificent basilica and a majestic view of the beautiful Jezreel Valley, it is a place where everything seems possible. From one generation to the next, it’s easy to see the historical changes there: the flags flying in the region keep changing. But it requires a longer view to appreciate the transfiguration of the area – literally, as God has elevated the land of the Jezreel Valley, it has become more beautiful.
Like our brief mountaintop experience with the gospel on the Second Sunday of Lent, we cannot stay here on Mt. Tabor. We need to return to the valleys of challenge, of risk, of engaging with people with differing viewpoints. We must continually ask the Holy Spirit to inspire us. May we find ways to work together to achieve our dreams for a better world, even when the paths for reaching that place are not yet clear.
Photo credit: vad_levin/Flickr
Endnotes
- For 52 ideas on how to move from environmental change to environmental transfiguration, check out http://www.creationjustice.org/blog/52-ways-to-care-for-creation ↩