Feb 17, 2008, 2nd Sunday of Lent: the Transfiguration of Christ
Genesis 12:1-4a II Timothy 1:8b-10 Matthew 17:1-9
To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]
First reading
The Lord said to Abram: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you. All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you.” Abram went as the Lord directed him.
The Gospel
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.
Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. 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.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ
Introduction
Another high mountain
Last Sunday the Devil led Jesus to a very high mountain and showed him all the glitter of the world’s kingdoms which he promised to bestow upon Jesus if he would only fall to his knees and adore him (Mt 4: 1-11). This Sunday Jesus is on anther height called Mount Tabor in Christian tradition. That height is always the theme for the second Sunday of Lent in all three liturgical Cycles of A, B and C (Mt 17:1-8; Mk 9:2- 8; Lk 9:28-36).
The coin of ecstasy
On Tabor the apostles saw the Lord’s face shining like the sun, and his clothes resplendent with light. Out of a cloud they heard the voice of the Lord God. The voice proclaimed Jesus to be a “beloved Son in whom I am well pleased” (Mt 17:5). Something spectacular was happening on that mount. Christians call it a transfiguration. Catholics assign a special feast day for it on August 6, Feast of the Lord’s Transfiguration. Psychologists simply call it a religious experience.
With religious experience there comes the coin of ecstasy. Peter became ecstatic on Tabor. He was beside himself emoting and exclaiming, “Lord, how good it is for us to be here” (Mt 17:4)! The experience was so powerful that Peter wanted to dig in and hunker down on that lofty height forever. “Let’s build three shelters up here,” he said to Jesus, “one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Lk 9: 28-36). Not only was Mount Tabor high, Peter himself was also high with ecstasy.
A religious experience on a road
A religious experience can happen not only on a breezy mountaintop but also in the sweaty valley of the human journey. Saul of Tarsus had his religious experience on a road. As he was journeying to Damascus where he planned to arrest Christians, a bright light struck him off his high horse, and he heard a voice. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice cried out, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? Saul was startled and asked who was speaking. The voice answered, “I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:1-22). That experience converted Saul, the terrorist, into St. Paul, the great apostle to the Gentiles.
A religious experience in a garden
St. Augustine (354-430)[3] had his religious experience in a garden. In his younger days he was a rounder of the first water. He strayed off into the teachings of Manichaeism and into the wayward paths of youth, begetting a son out of wedlock. With great literary skill and deep spiritual tones Augustine records his theological aberrations and his wayward youth in his Confessions -- a very personal, powerful, prayerful and poetic piece of prose.
In the garden of his villa one day, Augustine heard a voice coming from the other side of the wall. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice kept saying in a singsong sort of song, “Tolle et lege! Tolle et lege!” (Augustine wrote in Latin.) “Take and read! Take and read!” At first he thought it was the voice of some child playing a game. Then suddenly, he was seized with a strange impulse and picked up the Scriptures which lay near at hand. They fell open to Romans 13: 13: “Let us conduct ourselves properly, as people who live in the light of day; no orgies or drunkenness, no immorality and debauchery, no fighting or jealousy. Rather, let us take up the weapons of the Lord Jesus Christ, and let us stop concentrating on the flesh and gratifying its desires” (Rm 13: 13-14; Confessions Bk VIII, ch 12). That experience converted the rounder Augustine into the great bishop of Hippo in North Africa. By his voluminous theological writings Augustine (later titled Doctor Gratiae -- Teacher of Grace) taught the Universal Church from the fifth to the thirteenth century when he was superceded by the equally voluminous St. Thomas Aquinas (Doctor Angelicus – Angelic Teacher).
A religious experience in a church
St. Francis (1182-1224) had his religious experience before a very old crucifix in a dilapidated little chapel of San Damiano in Assisi. Praying there one day he beseeched the Lord to tell him what He wanted of him. Suddenly Francis heard a voice from the crucifix. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice said to him, “Francis, repair my church.” Being a simple and literal person, he thought the voice was calling him to repair the rickety little chapel. It was, in fact, calling him to become the father of the great Franciscan family which would repair the Universal Church corrupted by the medieval Byzantine splendor and excesses of his day.
Jung in search of Mt. Tabor
Francis’ religious experience took place in a church. Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect a religious experience with its coin of ecstasy to take place if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to see visions and hear voices if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we be exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here” if not in church? Sometimes that does not happen. Often that does not happen!
Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, writes about the day of his first Holy Communion. Because of what he had been told, he greatly expected to see visions and hear voices on that very special occasion. The day finally dawned, and all peeled into church. In familiar robes his father, who was the minister of the celebration, stood behind the altar and read the prayers. On the white altar cloth lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread. (The bread came from the local baker.) He watched his father eat a piece of the bread and sip the wine. (The wine came from the local tavern.) Then he passed the cup to others. Jung writes that all were stiff, solemn, and seemingly disinterested. Though he kept looking on in suspense, Jung could neither see nor guess that anything unusual was happening inside anyone. No one had joy on his face. No one seemed to be seeing visions or hearing voices.
Finally Jung’s turn came to eat the bread which tasted flat and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer, no one was heard to cry out, "Oh how good it is for us to be here!" No one was seen to tarry or linger on in a glow of ecstasy. No one was heard saying, “Let us build shelters here and hunker down on this height forever.” Instead, Jung writes, "All peeled out of the church with faces that were neither depressed nor illumined with joy— with faces which seemed to say, `Well, that's that!'"
Only gradually did it dawn on Jung that nothing had happened. What he had seen (nothing) was all there was! The total lack of any religious experience with its ecstasy on the day of his very first Holy Communion proved to be disastrous; it proved to be his very last Communion! (Memories, Dreams, and Reflections) When the sun set on that long anticipated day of his first Holy Communion, Jung found himself exclaiming, "Oh, how bad it was for me to be there!"
Amy on Mt. Tabor
Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to have a religious experience with its coin of ecstasy if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to see visions and hear voices if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we be exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here” if not in church? That sometimes does, indeed, happen, and when it does happen, we are, indeed, blessed. It happened one day for the Amy who writes,
My husband and I were in Milwaukee for the weekend on a getaway from Indianapolis. We spent our first trip together in your city five years ago and returned for a much-needed vacation. We have a three year old. Recently we suffered a miscarriage at 12 weeks in July. We needed some time to get away and celebrate each other and heal from our loss. It was a very therapeutic trip for us which ended in a fabulous experience in your beautiful church. We had walked the streets of Milwaukee and passed by your gorgeous church and decided to celebrate mass with you on Sunday. We had intended to get up for the 9 AM Mass because going to the 10 AM would put us on the road a bit later with the time change back to Indy. I insisted with my husband that we attend your church instead of waiting to go in the evening at home. I truly feel it was God’s will that we celebrated with you at Old Saint Mary’s.
I so enjoyed the service. Father was absolutely fabulous, his sermon was out of this world, the choir was phenomenal, the lector was dynamic and the beauty of your church was just so stunning. It was a pivotal moment for us, especially for me. I lit a candle after Mass for our lost baby and I am looking forward with hope to our family’s future. I know that God has bigger plans[4] for our family than we even realize, and I know we are blessed.
Unlike Jung Amy can be heard crying out, “Oh, how good it was for us to have been there!”
To expect Mt. Tabor to happen at every Sunday Mass is unrealistic. It is also spiritual gluttony. But never to expect it to happen, or never to feel any disappointment or anger as it never happens is to join the army of those who peeled out of Jung’s church with faces which were “neither depressed nor illumined with joy” but which simply seemed to say, “Well, that's that! We’ve fulfilled the Sunday obligation.”
Our search for Mt. Tabor
If our Sunday assembly never takes us up to Tabor (and there’s simply nothing we can do about it) then we should take the pain to shop for a church that will. We take diligent pain to shop for a good house or a good car. There is nothing wrong (in fact, there is something quite right) about shopping for a “good Mass.” That is a Mass which takes us to Tabor and sets us exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here!” If our Sunday assembly never does that, then we must vote with our feet.
Conclusion
Tabor: not forever and not for itself
The Tabor high was not forever. Jesus and the Apostles eventually had to get down from that lofty height and descend into the valley of real life (Mt. 17:9). Neither is the Sunday high forever. We, too, have to leave Sunday Mass and descend into the valley of our weekday lives. The Tabor high was not for itself. It was for the great low that awaited the apostles in the imminent death of Jesus (Lk 24:17). Neither is the Sunday high for itself. It is for all the small and great lows which await us in the week ahead. The Sunday high is for assuring us in all life’s miscarriages, as it assured Amy, “that God has bigger plans for us.”
[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles
[3] (November 13, 354 – August 28, 430)
[4]Bigger plans, indeed! A son (John Ambrose) was born to them on December 29, 2007, just before the tax credit deadline!
Genesis 12:1-4a II Timothy 1:8b-10 Matthew 17:1-9
To the churched and unchurched[1]
gathered in a church not built by human hands[2]
First reading
The Lord said to Abram: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you. All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you.” Abram went as the Lord directed him.
The Gospel
Alleluia, alleluia.
A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew
Glory to you, Lord.
Jesus took Peter, James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them, conversing with him. Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, “Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate and were very much afraid. 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.”
The Gospel of the Lord.
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ
Introduction
Another high mountain
Last Sunday the Devil led Jesus to a very high mountain and showed him all the glitter of the world’s kingdoms which he promised to bestow upon Jesus if he would only fall to his knees and adore him (Mt 4: 1-11). This Sunday Jesus is on anther height called Mount Tabor in Christian tradition. That height is always the theme for the second Sunday of Lent in all three liturgical Cycles of A, B and C (Mt 17:1-8; Mk 9:2- 8; Lk 9:28-36).
The coin of ecstasy
On Tabor the apostles saw the Lord’s face shining like the sun, and his clothes resplendent with light. Out of a cloud they heard the voice of the Lord God. The voice proclaimed Jesus to be a “beloved Son in whom I am well pleased” (Mt 17:5). Something spectacular was happening on that mount. Christians call it a transfiguration. Catholics assign a special feast day for it on August 6, Feast of the Lord’s Transfiguration. Psychologists simply call it a religious experience.
With religious experience there comes the coin of ecstasy. Peter became ecstatic on Tabor. He was beside himself emoting and exclaiming, “Lord, how good it is for us to be here” (Mt 17:4)! The experience was so powerful that Peter wanted to dig in and hunker down on that lofty height forever. “Let’s build three shelters up here,” he said to Jesus, “one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Lk 9: 28-36). Not only was Mount Tabor high, Peter himself was also high with ecstasy.
A religious experience on a road
A religious experience can happen not only on a breezy mountaintop but also in the sweaty valley of the human journey. Saul of Tarsus had his religious experience on a road. As he was journeying to Damascus where he planned to arrest Christians, a bright light struck him off his high horse, and he heard a voice. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice cried out, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? Saul was startled and asked who was speaking. The voice answered, “I am Jesus of Nazareth, whom you are persecuting” (Acts 9:1-22). That experience converted Saul, the terrorist, into St. Paul, the great apostle to the Gentiles.
A religious experience in a garden
St. Augustine (354-430)[3] had his religious experience in a garden. In his younger days he was a rounder of the first water. He strayed off into the teachings of Manichaeism and into the wayward paths of youth, begetting a son out of wedlock. With great literary skill and deep spiritual tones Augustine records his theological aberrations and his wayward youth in his Confessions -- a very personal, powerful, prayerful and poetic piece of prose.
In the garden of his villa one day, Augustine heard a voice coming from the other side of the wall. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice kept saying in a singsong sort of song, “Tolle et lege! Tolle et lege!” (Augustine wrote in Latin.) “Take and read! Take and read!” At first he thought it was the voice of some child playing a game. Then suddenly, he was seized with a strange impulse and picked up the Scriptures which lay near at hand. They fell open to Romans 13: 13: “Let us conduct ourselves properly, as people who live in the light of day; no orgies or drunkenness, no immorality and debauchery, no fighting or jealousy. Rather, let us take up the weapons of the Lord Jesus Christ, and let us stop concentrating on the flesh and gratifying its desires” (Rm 13: 13-14; Confessions Bk VIII, ch 12). That experience converted the rounder Augustine into the great bishop of Hippo in North Africa. By his voluminous theological writings Augustine (later titled Doctor Gratiae -- Teacher of Grace) taught the Universal Church from the fifth to the thirteenth century when he was superceded by the equally voluminous St. Thomas Aquinas (Doctor Angelicus – Angelic Teacher).
A religious experience in a church
St. Francis (1182-1224) had his religious experience before a very old crucifix in a dilapidated little chapel of San Damiano in Assisi. Praying there one day he beseeched the Lord to tell him what He wanted of him. Suddenly Francis heard a voice from the crucifix. (In a religious experience one hears voices.) The voice said to him, “Francis, repair my church.” Being a simple and literal person, he thought the voice was calling him to repair the rickety little chapel. It was, in fact, calling him to become the father of the great Franciscan family which would repair the Universal Church corrupted by the medieval Byzantine splendor and excesses of his day.
Jung in search of Mt. Tabor
Francis’ religious experience took place in a church. Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect a religious experience with its coin of ecstasy to take place if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to see visions and hear voices if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we be exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here” if not in church? Sometimes that does not happen. Often that does not happen!
Karl Jung, the father of modern psychology, writes about the day of his first Holy Communion. Because of what he had been told, he greatly expected to see visions and hear voices on that very special occasion. The day finally dawned, and all peeled into church. In familiar robes his father, who was the minister of the celebration, stood behind the altar and read the prayers. On the white altar cloth lay large trays filled with small pieces of bread. (The bread came from the local baker.) He watched his father eat a piece of the bread and sip the wine. (The wine came from the local tavern.) Then he passed the cup to others. Jung writes that all were stiff, solemn, and seemingly disinterested. Though he kept looking on in suspense, Jung could neither see nor guess that anything unusual was happening inside anyone. No one had joy on his face. No one seemed to be seeing visions or hearing voices.
Finally Jung’s turn came to eat the bread which tasted flat and to sip the wine which tasted sour. After the final prayer, no one was heard to cry out, "Oh how good it is for us to be here!" No one was seen to tarry or linger on in a glow of ecstasy. No one was heard saying, “Let us build shelters here and hunker down on this height forever.” Instead, Jung writes, "All peeled out of the church with faces that were neither depressed nor illumined with joy— with faces which seemed to say, `Well, that's that!'"
Only gradually did it dawn on Jung that nothing had happened. What he had seen (nothing) was all there was! The total lack of any religious experience with its ecstasy on the day of his very first Holy Communion proved to be disastrous; it proved to be his very last Communion! (Memories, Dreams, and Reflections) When the sun set on that long anticipated day of his first Holy Communion, Jung found himself exclaiming, "Oh, how bad it was for me to be there!"
Amy on Mt. Tabor
Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to have a religious experience with its coin of ecstasy if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we expect to see visions and hear voices if not in church? Where, if anywhere on God’s earth, should we be exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here” if not in church? That sometimes does, indeed, happen, and when it does happen, we are, indeed, blessed. It happened one day for the Amy who writes,
My husband and I were in Milwaukee for the weekend on a getaway from Indianapolis. We spent our first trip together in your city five years ago and returned for a much-needed vacation. We have a three year old. Recently we suffered a miscarriage at 12 weeks in July. We needed some time to get away and celebrate each other and heal from our loss. It was a very therapeutic trip for us which ended in a fabulous experience in your beautiful church. We had walked the streets of Milwaukee and passed by your gorgeous church and decided to celebrate mass with you on Sunday. We had intended to get up for the 9 AM Mass because going to the 10 AM would put us on the road a bit later with the time change back to Indy. I insisted with my husband that we attend your church instead of waiting to go in the evening at home. I truly feel it was God’s will that we celebrated with you at Old Saint Mary’s.
I so enjoyed the service. Father was absolutely fabulous, his sermon was out of this world, the choir was phenomenal, the lector was dynamic and the beauty of your church was just so stunning. It was a pivotal moment for us, especially for me. I lit a candle after Mass for our lost baby and I am looking forward with hope to our family’s future. I know that God has bigger plans[4] for our family than we even realize, and I know we are blessed.
Unlike Jung Amy can be heard crying out, “Oh, how good it was for us to have been there!”
To expect Mt. Tabor to happen at every Sunday Mass is unrealistic. It is also spiritual gluttony. But never to expect it to happen, or never to feel any disappointment or anger as it never happens is to join the army of those who peeled out of Jung’s church with faces which were “neither depressed nor illumined with joy” but which simply seemed to say, “Well, that's that! We’ve fulfilled the Sunday obligation.”
Our search for Mt. Tabor
If our Sunday assembly never takes us up to Tabor (and there’s simply nothing we can do about it) then we should take the pain to shop for a church that will. We take diligent pain to shop for a good house or a good car. There is nothing wrong (in fact, there is something quite right) about shopping for a “good Mass.” That is a Mass which takes us to Tabor and sets us exclaiming, “Oh how good it is for us to be here!” If our Sunday assembly never does that, then we must vote with our feet.
Conclusion
Tabor: not forever and not for itself
The Tabor high was not forever. Jesus and the Apostles eventually had to get down from that lofty height and descend into the valley of real life (Mt. 17:9). Neither is the Sunday high forever. We, too, have to leave Sunday Mass and descend into the valley of our weekday lives. The Tabor high was not for itself. It was for the great low that awaited the apostles in the imminent death of Jesus (Lk 24:17). Neither is the Sunday high for itself. It is for all the small and great lows which await us in the week ahead. The Sunday high is for assuring us in all life’s miscarriages, as it assured Amy, “that God has bigger plans for us.”
[1]] By the “the unchurched” is especially meant not those who have left the church but those whom the church has left!
[2] Acts of the Apostles
[3] (November 13, 354 – August 28, 430)
[4]Bigger plans, indeed! A son (John Ambrose) was born to them on December 29, 2007, just before the tax credit deadline!
