1) Lent: Exodus of penance and light.
Lent is not just a journey of penance of people grieving for their sin. It is the path of light or better, the conversion to light. The victory over temptation is already a source of transfiguration.
This Sunday's Gospel presents us with the fact of the Transfiguration of Christ. It is an event that marked the lives not only of Jesus, but also of Peter, James and John and must mark our existence.
The context is of prayer on Mount Tabor. It is a very special and privileged time. It is the revelation of the divinity of Jesus. It is a moment of light that Jesus had wanted to prepare his disciples for the passion and us too so that we come prepared to Good Friday. We too must enter into the mystery of the Transfiguration and make it our own. Not only must we contemplate the radiant Christ, but become what we behold.
The first way to participate in the supernatural gift of the Transfiguration is make time to pray and listen to the Word of God; it is to focus our attention over the consecrated Host. Furthermore, especially in this time of Lent, it is to respond to the divine invitation of penance by some voluntary act of mortification outside the renunciation imposed by the burdens of everyday life.
Another way to live the mystery of the Transfiguration is to imagine the scene described in the Gospel and identify with one of the three apostles who accompanied Jesus on Mount Tabor : " And he was transfigured before them (the three apostles, Peter , James and John ) : his face shone like the sun, and his garments became white as light" (Mt 17:1-2 ). Jesus is transfigured: the white robes (St. Maximus the Confessor says that, “his clothes became white, bore the symbol of the words of Sacred Scripture that became clear and transparent and bright” Ambiguum 10: page 91, 1128 B) and the shining face take us in the direction of the Son of Man of Daniel, glorious and victorious. In this way, it is revealed that Jesus, who is on his way to the Cross, is the Lord and that He is actually on the way to the light of the Resurrection. The last and painful pilgrimage that Jesus is pursuing hides a Pascal meaning. But it is a fleeting and provisional anticipation: the road ahead is that of the Cross. And in fact, the three beloved disciples, called to see in advance the glory of Jesus, are the same ones that in Gethsemane will be called to see his weakness. Peter, James and John (and we with them), contemplating the divinity of the Lord, are prepared to deal with the scandal of the cross, as it is sung in an old hymn, "On the mount you have transfigured and your followers, as far as they were able, have beheld your glory so that, seeing you crucified, they understand that your passion was voluntary and announce to the world that you truly are the splendor of the Father."
2) The tents and the Tent.
The Gospel continues narrating that, beside the transfigured Jesus, “Moses and Elijah[1] appeared, conversing with him” (Mt 17:3); Moses and Elijah, the figure of the Law and the Prophets. It was then that Peter, delighted, exclaimed: “Lord, it is good for us to be here! If you want , I will make three tents[2] here , one for you , one for Moses and one for Elijah "(Matthew 17:4) . But I believe that in this Gospel’s passage the tent can be interpreted in reference to the exodus.
The forty years in the desert were a time of transition and testing, but were also a special time. In the desert, the tents must be erected every evening and put away every morning. The desert is the place of horror and death, the place of scorpions, snakes, the place of thirst and hunger, the place of hidden raiders who fall suddenly on the caravan. But at the same time it is the place of strength and life. Never before as in the desert are the people strong because they are bare, lightweight, carry little baggage but plenty of life, a lot of hope, a lot of energy to cherish it later on when they arrive in the Country[3].
The desert and the tents were and are a privileged place, the place where you are face to face with God. They are also the place and the time of the total dependence. Already in the desert of the exodus, the facts that the New Testament will take over as the last, messianic and eschatological, namely the water, the manna and the Word, are understood precisely in this sense of total dependence on God.
The people who live under the tent cannot do without vital elements such as water and food, manna and the quails of the desert (Exodus 16, 1-36 and 17, 1-7). The Lord sends the goods, but the Lord wants the people to have full availability and dependence and to prove it, because the Lord does not miss anything to anyone.
But we must also speak of the tent with a capital T. In fact, St. Augustine already commented on the phrase of St. Peter on the Mount of Transfiguration, saying that we have a single dwelling: Christ. He “is the Word of God, the Word of God in the Law, the Word of God in the Prophets “(Sermo de Verbis Ev. 78.3: PL 38, 491). The Lord has established his tent among the tents, these tents become the place where to live a true life due to the fact that the Lord is present; He is the Emmanuel, God- with-us, God among us, always.
This Tent among the tents implies that God becomes like men. It is a God who lowered himself and is almost destroyed, to dwell among the tents of men.
An example of tents next to The tent are the consecrated Virgins. These women are called to live their lives with availability and full dependence. In the Church, these women are called to give themselves totally to the Lord with the choice of Virginity and continuing to live in the world. Their consecration expresses the importance of a joyful "totality" in the gift of self and of the constant search for the primacy of contemplation in the total availability to service in the Church, with and for brothers.
--
Roman Rite - Second Sunday of Lent - Year A - March 16, 2014
Gn 12:1-4; Ps 33; 2 Tim 1:8-10; Matthew 17:1-9
GOSPEL COMMENTARY
Awe
Fr. Jerry Pokorsky
“Our God is an awesome God.” Trivializing the real meaning of awe, it’s one of the most annoying lines in pop-religion. Awe is not the response we have for an indulgent father (“Thanks, Dad, you’re awesome”). Awe is a response to an encounter with the infinite majesty of the divine. It is greater than the sense of wonder or mere amazement. There is even something violent in the sense of awe. Awe is uncontrollable and engages the emotions, shaking the body and the soul.
Adam’s response after the creation of Eve is a response of awe to the creative and loving power of God: “At last bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh.” Indeed, awe is a magnificent gift. St. Paul describes the awe of heavenly glory when he writes: “Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much dawned on man what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor 2:9).
But after the fall of Adam, the gift of awe in the presence of the divine has been wounded by sin, introducing the factor of fear. Fear is the emotion that recognizes some kind of danger to life and limb. It also recognizes the insignificance, perhaps even the futility of one’s existence in the presence of the Creator. Adam and Eve were fearful of the Lord after the fall. They covered themselves in shame and hid from His view. Their shame was the result of their sin, their violation of the Creator’s commandments. And they feared divine retribution. Their sense of awe would be forever distorted by fear.
Of course, Scriptures teach us that “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding. To him belongs eternal praise” (Ps 111.10). The role of fear is to impel us to follow God’s precepts. Even servile fear is not a bad beginning leading to a righteous life. But servile fear itself needs to be purified if the sense of awe is to be restored to its original dignity and beauty.
St. Peter was awestruck at the beginning of the ministry of Christ after witnessing the miraculous catch (cf. Lk 5). He and the others were violently “seized” with fear in the presence of the divine. But Peter’s awe is filled with fear and a sense of his nothingness. He falls to his knees and begs Jesus, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Similarly, when the disciples saw Christ walking on the sea “they were terrified: ‘It is a ghost,’ they said, and they cried out in fear” (cf. Jn 6). The violent fear of the divine intertwined with their awe-filled sense of His presence is paralyzing.
This Sunday’s Gospel — the account of the Transfiguration — again provides a description of the paralyzing effects of awe in the presence of the divine. Shortly before the Passion, Christ is “transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.” A voice from the heavens directs them, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” The response of the apostles is awe, an awe that includes a violent recoiling in fear. And “when the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid.”
Paradoxically after the fall of Adam fear is not only the “beginning of wisdom” in that it recognizes God’s omnipotence and our sinfulness; it is also a significant obstacle to intimacy with God. A truly loving relationship with God is impossible with mere servile fear. Hence, revisiting the Gospel accounts identified above, every time the apostles are awestruck and paralyzed with fear, Christ intervenes. He repeatedly instructs them to “be not afraid.” His “be not afraid” command transforms their fearful response of awe to a rational faith in the person and mission of Christ.
Their awe, purified of the paralyzing effects of fear, would make it possible for Christ to free them to be “fishers of men.” It would allow them to see Jesus clearly for who He is and witness, “Truly, you are the Son of God.” And finally, their awe, purified of fear, would prepare them to endure the Passion of Christ: “But Jesus came and touched them, saying, ‘Rise, and do not be afraid.’ And when the disciples raised their eyes, they saw no one else but Jesus alone. As they were coming down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, ‘Do not tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.’”
During the Last Supper, the revelation as to how awe is liberated from fear comes to completion. Christ tells His apostles, “I no longer call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from my Father.”
Awe in our encounter with the divine is liberated from servile fear and transformed in the friendship of Christ. Ultimately, it is the awesome power of love — not fear — that impels us to walk with Christ in the intimacy of faith and enter into His kingdom.
Fr. Pokorsky is pastor of St. Michael Church in Annandale.