Second Sunday of Lent, Luke 9: 28b-36

Those who can listen to Jesus in Lent are likely to see a change in their lives.

Indeed, Lent is also a time of intense training to live your life more like a Christian. One question: Is your goal for Lent also an actual return to God?
I heard about a little girl who experienced a significant turning point in her life when she learned to tie her shoelaces. Instead of being overjoyed, the little girl was in tears. Her father asked her: “Why are you crying?” “I have to tie my shoelaces,” the little girl replied. “You just learned how to do that. It’s not hard, is it?” “I know,” whined the little girl, “but I’ll have to do it all my life from now on.” We want to undergo fasting training precisely so that we can do what God asks of us for the rest of our lives.

This is also the message of God the Father from the Mount of Transfiguration, “This is my chosen Son, listen to him.” (Lk 9:35).

In today’s Gospel, we learn about the conversation of the Lord Jesus with Moses and Elijah. “They spoke of his departure, which was to take place in Jerusalem.” (Lk. 9:31). Today we know that the departure of Christ was the most significant moment in the history of humanity. The event on Mount Tabor, the Mount of Transfiguration in the text of Luke’s Gospel, is sandwiched between the first and second predictions of the Lord Jesus’ Passion. The Lord Jesus knows what awaits him in Jerusalem. He is preparing the disciples for this climax of His ministry as the God-man on earth. Therefore, Peter answers the question: “And who do you say I am?” (Lk 9:20)? Jesus says for the first time: “The Son of Man must suffer many things; the elders and chief priests and scribes will reject him and kill him, but on the third day he will rise from the dead” (Lk. 9:22). The text of the Gospel after the event of the transfiguration says: “When all were astonished at all that he did, he said to his disciples: “Listen well and remember what I tell you: The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men.” But they did not understand this word. It was veiled to them so that they would not understand.” (Lk. 9:43-45).

Jesus knows his disciples. As omniscient, He knows Peter’s denial, that only John will stand under the cross dying for the world’s sins; he knows that James will be the first to glorify Him by his death. Jesus knows that he must prepare the apostles for this challenging moment of his death. These, after his resurrection, will become a strength to the other disciples. And the words of God the Father, “This is my chosen Son, listen to him.” (Lk 9:35), will make it even easier for the disciples to accept the teaching of their Master.
Indeed, the disciples on the mountain were first overcome by sleep, then by fear, but all this happened by the will of Jesus, so that until the end of time, we may be aware of something similar when God will draw near to us. We encounter this action of God already in the book of Genesis, where God makes a promise to Abraham: “Look up to the heavens and count the stars if you can!” And he assured him: “So shall your descendants be!” Abram believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness” (Gen. 15:5-6). But like the apostles, a hard sleep fell upon Abraham, and a great, terrible terror came over him. Deep sleep and a sense of dread – can be understood as signs of the presence of God. And we are to realize today that this has and will continue to be true. We are to understand the transfiguration in Lent in that those who prefer carnality “live as enemies of the cross of Christ” (Phil. 3:18); for them, it is characteristic that they do not fear God, and to them, all things are clear. For those who have believed in the power of Christ, in the struggles and struggles, the darkness and the fear of the struggle against sin, the words of the Apostle Paul are an encouragement: “For our country is in heaven” (Phil 3:20).

Lent, we become more aware of the call to “return.” We often understand it as an outward change of life, an improvement in doing good, a renunciation of mistakes, errors, falls, sins. Today’s Gospel calls our attention to a “change” of a qualitatively higher kind, a “metanoia,” a change of mindset, way of life, and outlook. Let us not be mistaken that only the elect and the saints were called to something like this. We are all called to this transformation. It touches each one of us. The words of God the Father are also addressed to us: “This is my chosen Son, listen to him.” (Lk 9:35). Jesus is hope for us too, and the words apply to us too: “For our country is in heaven” (Phil 3:20). And in heaven, as the testimony of Peter, James and John say, we will live in the presence of God; this will be the greatest reward, which nothing and no one can equal. It happens that here in this life, we forget that we put energy in union with God on the back burner. We are to use the Lenten season to “change,” to reconsider our attitudes so that nothing will stand in the way of living in the kingdom of God, as the Apostle Peter felt at the moment of the Transfiguration of the Lord when he said: “Teacher, it is well with us here.” (Lk 9:33).

If a man forgets eternity and distances himself from the Lord God, he will, sooner or later, recognize the weakness of his existence on earth. Youth will quickly pass away, interest in hobbies will wane, and he will realize the loss of health and work fatigue. When he crosses the threshold of retirement, many with their “good-byes” break off contact with us. Aren’t you one of those who in old age will no longer be remembered by old friends, co-workers, customers, those for whom you have done much, very much, for whom you have lived? That is the course of life. And let us remember this also as we make the “transformation” of our lives this Lenten season. The journey back to God leads to a fantastic destination. We know that if we want to gain something valuable on earth, we must sacrifice something for it: time, strength, health… and we enjoy it too little. It requires our sacrifice, but the reward will last for all eternity.
May we think more about the value of our souls and the souls entrusted to us as we make the conversion this Lenten season. Let us reconsider our approach to happiness, health, family well-being, fidelity, purity, peace, justice… Let us discover the true light in our lives.
In his book Vitamin C from God, Henry Howard tells the story of a shipwreck in the South Seas on a coral reef. The crew made it to shore with bitter difficulty, someone on floating pieces of wood… On the coast, they met. They were afraid to go deeper inland because man-eaters might live on the island. They had no desire to beat them with sticks and eat them. But then one of them, apparently braver than the others, scrambled to the top of the nearest hill. As soon as he was at the very top, he began waving excitedly at them, urging them to follow him. They heard him calling: “Come on, boys, everything is all right! The church is here.” There wasn’t a single person among them who didn’t feel safer after those words. They had heard the good news. Against such a backdrop, the significance of the church becomes even more apparent. It is a light in the darkness, and those who find themselves in danger thank God for the gift of that light. We do not look at the time offered as something to rob us of but as a time to use and offer more of ourselves. We want to give up to gain more. We want to control ourselves to know more about the value of our character. We want to give more of ourselves to achieve many times more.

Yes, the transfiguration of the Lord took place for us. We accept that it speaks to us of our redemption and acceptance as children of God. Our “transformation” of life is based on baptism. Faithfulness to our baptismal commitments gives us hope that one day we will receive a share in the glory of God’s kingdom. Even St. Justin compared baptism to the illumination of the apostles on Mount Tabor, and the Fathers of the Church saw in the radiance of Jesus’ garments a cleansing from our sins. Transformation also includes a call to evangelize the environment where we live. Our lives are to speak of God, the soul, and eternal life. Even old age or sickness does not exempt us from this.
Johann Sebastian Bach, arguably the greatest composer of church music, could not call his life beautiful. It was full of tragedy. When he was ten years old, both his parents died. He was only reluctantly brought up by his elder brother, who resented that he had to feed another hungry mouth. He had a difficult life even as an adult. His wife died quickly. Ten of his children died in infancy, and he had one retarded. A stroke himself left him blind and deaf. Nevertheless, he composed beautiful music full of praise, thanksgiving, and awe to the glory of God.

But he knew what God had in store for those who love him. Our transformation is our love for God. Do we understand this?