Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent (Year C)

Readings: Gn 15:5-12,17-18; Phil17-4:1; Lk 9:28b-36

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As I prepared this homily and thought about our parish and its demographics, I finally concluded that we’re all pretty old. And given all those years behind us, I’m sure we’ve all witnessed a lot of transformations in our lives, changes in people and places.

Back in the early 1950s, just a few years after the end of World War II, my family spent a year in Germany. I was only 7 or 8 years old, and my father, an Army officer, wouldn’t live in Army housing or send us to Army schools. We lived in a tiny walk-up flat and went to German schools.

It was a remarkable time, for the destruction caused by the war was still very evident. In fact a house close by had been completely destroyed. In some cities, almost everything was gone -- homes, apartment houses, shops, small businesses, large factories – all had been turned into unrecognizable piles of brick and smashed concrete.

But thanks to the Marshall Plan and the power of the human spirit, rebuilding had already begun. And by the time I returned ten years later, Western Europe had been completely transformed. It was a vivid example of the human spirit, in its darkest hour, rising to accomplish remarkable things.

But human events like this resurrection of post-war Europe pale in comparison to what God has promised us – the miraculous restoration He will accomplish in our resurrection from the dead. In our 2^nd reading St. Paul reminds us:

"…our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will change our lowly body to conform with His glorified body."

And today's Gospel passage from Luke gives us a glimpse of what Christ's glorified body is like. Before His Resurrection, Jesus' body was just like ours, subject to hunger and thirst, pain and pleasure, weakness and strength. After the Resurrection, Christ's body was glorified, transfigured by His divine nature. And because His Spirit lives within us, God will do the same for us.

The eternal life God has promised those who love Him isn’t merely some sort of spiritual existence. It will include our material bodies, but bodies very different from what we now have. More than that we cannot say. What really matters is how our faith in the resurrection affects what we do in our lives today.

This is why the surprising event Luke describes, the Transfiguration, took place. For the Transfiguration was not only a manifestation of Jesus’ divinity, but also a glimpse into the future that God has planned for us, and a wake-up call for the here and now. Indeed, it really was a wake-up call, for Peter, James, and John had been asleep. How did Luke put it?

"Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray…"

Then, just moments later, Luke tells us:

"Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep."

Of course, this was nothing new. In fact, the disciples spent a remarkable amount of time asleep, and when they weren’t asleep, they were afraid, oblivious, blind, or hiding away. Jesus often had to wake them up, open their eyes, calm their fears, and bring them out of hiding.

By the time Peter, James, and John went up that mountain to pray with Jesus, they had seen Him heal the sick and cast devils into the sea. They heard unclean spirits shriek and watched while a paralytic simply picked up his pallet and walked away. They had seen him walk on water and change water into wine.

In the past few months, Jesus had challenged all their fears; He’d revealed and forgiven all their sins. They found themselves eating with sinners, laughing with tax collectors, talking to lepers and harlots and thieves. They’d left their predictable, comfortable lives behind, and set out on the adventure of a lifetime.

And yet…and yet despite all this – despite all their waking up and growing up and sitting up in wonder, when they followed Jesus up that mountain, they still fell asleep. Only eight days before the Holy Spirit had moved Peter to declare Jesus to be "the Christ, the Son of the Living God." (Mt 16:16) But when Jesus spoke of His passion and death…well, Peter and the others would have none of it!

On that mountaintop, though, flanked by Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, Jesus is transfigured before them. As His divinity is revealed, Peter, James, and John awaken, and their own transformation begins. Peter wanted to stay there. He wanted the moment to last forever. Is it any wonder? Just imagine what it must have been like.

But God tells them, No. Not now. You must return to the world. You must do my work. You must take my love and my Word to all. You must do what my beloved Son tells you.
“Listen to him”, the Father’s voice demands.

Listen, do as He’s commanded you, and you will share in the glory you see today.

Listen…and be transformed.

Yes, Jesus tells them, He has sent Me to announce Good News to the poor, to proclaim release for prisoners, and give sight to the blind; to let the broken victims go free.

Listen…and be transformed.

Do not be afraid. From now on, you will be fishers of men. Make disciples of all nations. And I will be with you even until the end of time.

Listen…and be transformed.

I haven’t come to invite the righteous, but to call sinners to repentance. Your sins are forgiven you. Go and sin no more.

Listen…and be transformed.

Blessed are you who accept your spiritual poverty, for the kingdom of God is yours.

Blessed are you who show mercy, for you shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall receive comfort beyond your imagining.

Blessed are you who are persecuted because of me, for your reward will be great.

Listen…and be transformed.

Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. If you love only those who love you, what credit is that to you?

Listen…and be transformed.

Take and eat. This is my body given up for you. Take and drink. This is my blood, shed for you and for many, so that your sins may be forgiven.

The Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ nourishes us on the way to our heavenly destiny. In a few moments, as we process to receive Jesus, we symbolize a people together on a journey. We proceed in communion with each other to enter a deeper communion with Jesus Christ. And our firm "Amen" to the Body and Blood of Christ is a sign of our faith in the promise of Jesus:

"Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have life eternal and I will raise them up on the last day."

Yes, sisters and brothers, listen to the Word of the Lord, and be transformed.

But just like Peter, John, and James, we too seem to spend a remarkable amount of time asleep. We spend so much of our lives afraid, oblivious, blind, and hidden away – hiding from the God who loves us.

This season of Lent, Jesus wants us to awaken and open our eyes. He wants to calm our fears and bring us out of hiding. How many of us spend Lent fretting about what we’ll give up? Desserts, movies, coffee, a favorite TV show? And on Fridays we trade pepperoni pizza for fish and chips.

But today's Gospel reminds us that, above all, Lent is a season of transformation, a time to be transfigured by God Himself.

It’s a time to wake up, to open our eyes so that like the three Apostles, we can see Jesus in his glory.

It’s a time to listen, so we can hear His voice calling us to be fully aware and fully alive – to live our faith every moment of our lives.

Lent is a time to take your place beside Abraham, to look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.

Lent is a time to stand beside Moses and tell stories of liberation; for that's what Jesus gave us – freedom – freedom from sin, freedom to do the Father's will. Like God’s chosen people, we’ve been brought out of slavery, but we’ve been redeemed at a great price, by the blood of the Father’s only Son.

Lent is a time to come out of hiding and walk with Elijah, to spread the Good News fearlessly to all who will hear.

Lent is a time to listen, to hear the urgency of Christ's message to each one of us – a message of love He never tires of repeating.

Lent is a time for prayer, for it’s in and through our prayer life that we are most open to God’s Word.

Yes, brothers and sisters, Lent is a time to listen, a time to be transformed by God Himself. 

Don’t let it go to waste.

Homily: Tuesday, 15th Week in Ordinary Time

Readings: Ex 2:1-15a • Psalm 69 • Mt 11:20-24

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One of the remarkable things about the Old Testament is the willingness of its authors and the Holy Spirit to hide nothing and reveal almost everything about the key characters. This is so very different from all other ancient religious texts, as well as the official records of other ancient societies. In these, the kings and pharaohs and conquerors were all depicted as near perfect, as godlike men who always won, and never failed.

But not so in the Bible. Beginning with Adam and Eve, and progressing through the Patriarchs to Moses, then on through the long list of prophets and Kings, we encounter so many men, and actually quite a few women; and for all of them, nothing is hidden – strengths and weaknesses, sins and virtues, it’s all revealed.  The focus, you see, is not really on these men and women; rather it’s on God, who chooses whomever He desires to fulfill His plan, to carry out His work in the world. 

And often enough He chooses amazingly unlikely people. Today, for example, in our reading from Exodus, we encounter two versions of Moses.

First, a basket-case floating among the bullrushes, a Hebrew infant, “a goodly child”, his mother called him, surrendered by that mother in hope and trust, and retrieved and adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter.

We next encounter a grown Moses, fortyish and entitled, but a man who presumably knew his roots. Driven by a slightly skewed sense of justice, he willfully kills an Egyptian who was persecuting a Hebrew slave laborer. When the word gets out, Moses realizes he too must get out, and heads east to the land of Midian. Moses is introduced to us in all his imperfections. And yet on Mt Horeb God will choose him to free His people and lead them to the Promised Land. How blessed we are that our loving, merciful God chooses us as well, despite all our imperfections. 

Then we encounter Jesus in our Gospel passage from Matthew. You know, a lot of folks seem to see Jesus solely as the warm and fuzzy, group hug, kumbaya Jesus. And yet, in the Gospel He often comes across quite differently.

Today, for example, He’s taking on the role of Prophet. Indeed, He sounds a lot like Isaiah when that prophet proclaimed God’s judgment on the King of Babylon.

“Down to Sheol you will be brought to the depths of the pit!” [Is 14:15]

Jesus says much the same, doesn’t He? Hard words to those neighboring towns, Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, whose people had witnessed all those miracles, but failed to listen. Because Jesus had been with them, and they had seen and heard it all, their judgment will be harsher.

When I was growing up we had a brief family Bible Study every week. Now, to my knowledge, my mom, who was an RN, had no formal training in Sacred Scripture, but always seemed to share wonderful insights. We’d read a few verses then Mom or Dad would ask what we thought of it.

After reading these comments of Jesus, my brother and I tried to say something like: “The people in those towns are really going to catch it.” But Mom simply said, “You know, Jesus isn’t talking to us about those little towns. He’s talking to us about us.” That took all the wind out of our sails. She went on, explaining it all to us in words similar to these...

“Jesus healed all those people because He loved them, and He wanted others to see and understand that they must listen to Him…But so many didn’t. If we instead turn away from Him, we’re no better than the people of those towns. You see,” Mom told us, “Our Lord has been living with us in our home, speaking to us through our church…and when we receive Holy Communion He actually lives within us. Because of that, we must listen to Him, do as He asks us, and let God’s will rule our lives.”

With that, she ended the lesson. Brothers and sisters, Jesus said the same thing, didn’t He? His Gethsemane prayer, words recorded in all three of the Synoptic Gospels:

“Not what I will, but what you will.”

…words that actually encapsulate His entire teaching. Moses struggled to accept God’s will in his life, and so too did the Apostles.

I guess that’s the question for you and me: What’s the focus of our lives, our will our His will? After all, every day we pray, “Thy will be done,” but do we really seek it?

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent - Year B

 Readings: Gn 22:1-2,9-13,15-18;Ps 116; Rom 8:31-34; Mk 9:2-10

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Not long ago I thought my wife’s hearing might not be what it used to be, so I decided to conduct a little test. I stood some distance behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me.” Getting no answer, I moved closer and again asked, “Diane, can you hear me?” Again having received no answer, I moved right up behind her and said softly, “Diane, can you hear me?” And that’s when I finally heard her say, “For the third time, Yes!”

Well, that’s pretty much how you and I communicate with God. We’re so intent on making sure He’s listening to us, that He doesn’t miss all those needs and wants we’re always placing before Him, that we neglect the more important task: We fail to listen to Him. We forget, or simply can’t believe, that God hears our every prayer, that He knows our every need. Not only does God hear us, but He also speaks to us…and He does so definitively.

We need only listen, listen as the Father commanded us. That’s right, twice in the gospels the Father speaks aloud regarding Jesus. At Jesus’ Baptism the Father said:

This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.

As Jesus begins His ministry that culminates in His death and resurrection, and in our salvation, we learn that the Father sent Him to become one of us; that He is Emmanuel, God with us. Yes, the Father states unequivocally, that He is well pleased with His Son: this Jesus, My Son, has met all My demands for holiness, for righteousness, for goodness. What greater statement could God have made about His Son?

And then, in today’s Gospel passage, the Father again speaks aloud:

This is my beloved Son; listen to him.

With these words we are given our primary responsibility as disciples of Jesus.

Listen to Him.

It’s a simple message, for God never complicates, He always simplifies. Simple but profound, God’s message isn’t obscured by some long to-do list of responsibilities and behavioral expectations; rather, it consists of one, simple command, “Listen to him.” For this is the essence of discipleship, and it hasn’t changed since the days of Abraham.

I can remember as a child -- I think I was about seven years old -- being fascinated by our family Bible. Every week my father would open it up, read aloud whatever passage happened to interest him that day, and then discuss it with us. To be honest, I was probably more interested in the remarkable illustrations in our Bible.

One in particular both fascinated and terrified me. It was a brilliantly clear picture of an old man forcibly holding the body of a young boy against a stone altar. Even more disturbing was the large knife in the man’s hand, a knife pointed straight at the boy. That painting, by Caravaggio, was my introduction to Abraham and Isaac, and the caption beneath it consisted of a single word: “Ready!”

I remember thinking, ready for what? And so I asked my father, and he said, “Ready to sacrifice his son.” Well, that certainly didn’t help; nor was it very reassuring. I asked more questions and received more puzzling answers that pretty much boiled down to: “Because God asked Abraham to do it, and because Abraham loved God.”

It was all very confusing. I also found myself looking at my father a little differently, wondering if God might ask him to do what He’d asked Abraham. Eventually, though, I came to realize that Abraham and Isaac were a kind of special case.

God might not test us as He tested Abraham, but He still wanted us to listen, to obey, to be ready. Yes, Abraham loved and trusted God so deeply, He believed in God so faithfully, that he was ready to do whatever God asked of him. And God, seeing Abraham’s readiness, provided the ram to be sacrificed in place of Isaac. Years later, I learned that this readiness to do God’s will is the mark of the true disciple.

Brothers and sisters, in today’s Gospel passage, they apostles are generations away from Abraham, on another mountain where they encounter another who is ready. Peter, James and John follow their Master up its slopes, separating themselves from the world.

On that mountaintop Jesus gives them a glimpse of what is to come, a glimpse of the promise they don’t yet understand, a glimpse of God, of eternity – and they see it all through Jesus. Standing in His glory with Moses and Elijah, Jesus is fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets.

There was no caption explaining that scene for the apostles, but maybe Peter was starting to get the picture. Maybe deep down he’d come to realize another Biblical sacrifice was about to be offered. Like Isaac, another Son would carry his own wood of sacrifice up yet another hill.

Unable to grasp this fully, Peter is overwhelmed by the moment: Let’s build tents and just stay here forever. It’s so good to be here. But to be content with the present is not a statement of readiness, is it? It’s a statement of complacency. And complacency isn’t the mark of the disciple.

To help Peter and the others understand this, God speaks, and Peter hears the voice of God, the voice that causes a healthy fear:

This is my beloved Son – listen.

In this Lenten season, as we page through our history as a people…as we are presented each week with the stories of God’s faithfulness…as we picture the scenes and try to understand the captions God writes beneath them…as we do all these things, let’s remember what we’re called to do: to listen and to be ready to act.

Will we listen to Jesus as he speaks to us in so many ways: through the Gospel; through the Church; through each other?

But are we ready, ready to act, ready to sacrifice? We’re asked to make only one sacrifice: total dedication to God – to be ready to serve Him always.

Ready to listen and respond to His call.

Ready to put sin behind us.

Ready to name grace when we see it.

Ready to love the unloved.

Ready to defend Christ and His Church in the public square.

Ready to challenge the world when it turns its back on Christ, when it embraces not life but death.

Here lies the very essence of our Christian spirituality: having hearts and minds spiritually tuned to hear what God is telling us. These days of Lent should be our listening time.

Days begun with a moment of quietness, a moment when we pray young Samuel’s simple prayer: Speak Lord, your servant is listening.

Days when we look for God and His message in life’s simple experiences and our encounters with others.

Days that end with a moment of thanksgiving.

Do we thank God for the love that gave us our very being?

Do we thank Him for the sacrifice that promises us eternal life?

Do we thank Him for each other?

Brothers and sisters, the Father who spared Isaac’s life, spared nothing in sacrificing His own Son.

You and I are asked to do no less. But are we ready?

 

Broken but Beautiful

Once or twice a month Diane and I are privileged to minister as on-call chaplains at our local hospital here in The Villages, Florida. This involves being available for a 24-hour period, and spending a few hours during the day visiting the newly admitted patients. In most instances the patients we visit have been hospitalized for surgery or other procedures, or for treatment of injury or illness. After a few days of healing or treatment, the majority of patients recover and return to their homes or perhaps go to a local rehab facility. Of course, we live in a retirement community, so some patients must deal with terminal illness, and many of these, depending on the progress of their illness, will enter hospice.

On occasion, and so often these calls arrive late at night or early in the morning, we are asked to minister to the dying or to the families of those who have just died. Inevitably, when the phone rings at 2 a.m., I wake up grumbling in my own uniquely human way, "Oh, great!! There goes my night's sleep." But then, as the hospital operator relays the situation and the need, my heart melts and I know Diane and I are being asked to take Gods merciful love to those in real need of it. 

We try to offer spiritual comfort and hope to the dying, perhaps share a prayer with the family, and just listen as family and friends struggle to cope with the loss of one who is loved. But about the last thing a family needs at this time is for someone to preach at them. Over time I've come to realize that so often it simply means being quietly present. I suppose for many our presence in some way assures them of God's presence. We are just a sign of God's real, enduring, loving presence, especially at a time when God can seem so distant. I believe that often enough it's in the silence that God manifests His presence, and like Elijah at Horeb, we must draw away from the noise and distractions of the world and listen for God's "still small voice."

Recently, though, I've been the recipient of that voice thanks to Nancy and Joe, our dear friends from South Carolina. For the past few months, Diane and I have been their on-again, off-again hosts at our home here in The Villages, Florida. As I mentioned in a previous post, this has involved my driving them to Tampa so Nancy can receive frequent treatment at Moffitt Cancer Center.

While Nancy is being examined, poked, prodded, treated, and transfused with blood and platelets, Joe is usually with her. This leaves me to spend considerable time in one of the many waiting rooms. Thanks to my trusty iPad, I can take work with me and usually do. But occasionally my aging brain refuses to cooperate and the Spirit leads me to strike up a conversation with someone seated nearby. And, believe me, chatting with cancer patients has been an enlightening experience.

Unlike the waiting rooms of my dermatologist, eye surgeon, and primary care physician, the waiting rooms at Moffitt are populated with cancer patients, family members, and caregivers. I guess I'm among the few exceptions since I fall into none of these categories. In truth Nancy and Joe insist on calling me their "driver." And a happily content driver I am...and surprisingly patient too since I spend so much time putting the wait into waiting rooms. And thanks to those waits, I have learned much about courage, and faith, and thankfulness, and hope, and fear. 

Here I am, 74 years old, reasonably healthy, and certainly not focused on, as Nancy calls it in true disco fashion, "Stayin' alive." But on every visit I find myself in the presence of some truly wonderful people. The hope, faith, and courage, and yes, even the fears, are there, plainly evident in the faces of those seated around me. But all are so courageous in their own unique ways, and for many their faith just overwhelms the fear. Interestingly, the courage and faith of the patients also seem to dampen the fears of family members, especially that of spouses.

As I chat with these good people, they talk about their families, their illnesses, their faith, but not about their work or their jobs, and never, or rarely, about the past. For so many people today their work is life-defining; but for the seriously ill cancer patient work is all but forgotten, replaced by something else, something truly life-defining. It's all about relationships with others; in a sense it's all about communion.

And here I sit, secretly thankful that I don't suffer from this dreaded disease, but quietly wondering whether such suffering might help me find the path to the salvation God wills for me. And so I pray, and ask you to pray with me. I pray for Nancy and Joe. I pray for all those patients whose names I don't know, all those broken by illness but beautiful in faith, all those who taught me as I waited. And I thank God for every day He has given me, for today, and for every day I have yet to live.

Praised be Jesus Christ...now and forever!

Homily: Monday, 6th Week of Easter

Readings: Acts 16:11-15; Ps 149; Jn 15:26-16:4a
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I've often mentioned my father and some of the things he taught me. When it came to listening, he used to say:

"Nobody ever hated a listener. I've never heard anyone say, 'He listens too much.'"

Isn't that the truth?

And when it comes to our Faith, our willingness to listen can make all the difference. You and I hear the Word of God proclaimed and preached right here, and yet how many of us hear the words but not the Word?

Jesus is the Living Word of God

If the Word of God is going to pierce our hearts and make a difference in our lives, we have to listen to it. And if we listen, if we really listen, the power of the Word is beyond our imagining, something we're told in the Letter to the Hebrews:

"For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" [Heb 4:12].

Wow! Talk about power!

And did you notice - did you listen to what Luke told us in our first reading? Paul, when visiting the city of Philippi, went outside the city to a place of prayer. And there he encountered Lydia. Lydia was a merchant, a dealer in purple cloth - in those days that was the expensive stuff - so she was probably wealthy. She was also a "worshiper of God," which means she was either a Jew or a righteous Gentile, probably the latter. Lydia, too, had gone to that place to pray, but what did she do when Paul began to preach?

Lydia and Paul in Philippi

Luke tell us: she "listened, and the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what Paul was saying" [Acts 16:14].

Did you hear that? Because she listened, the Lord opened her heart. In other words, if we do our part, the Lord will do His. And too often that's the problem. Because we don't listen, our hearts remain closed and impenetrable, unable to receive God's saving Word. We become like Pharaoh in the Book of Exodus. He refused to listen to what the Lord was telling him through Moses and Aaron, so his heart remained closed and hardened.

But not Lydia. She listened to God's Word and had her entire household Baptized. And then, her heart filled with the Spirit, she opened her home to Paul and his companions.

All of this, of course, is the work of the Holy Spirit, the "Advocate" that Jesus promised in today's Gospel passage. The Holy Spirit, you see, is the dispenser of God's gifts. You remember His wondrous gifts, don't you? The gifts of wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord [Is 11:1-3]. Kinda cover the waterfront, don't they?

And notice, too, how Jesus explains that the Holy Spirit, the gift-giver, is Himself a gift from Father and Son. Listen again...

"When the Advocate comes whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, He will testify to me. And you also testify..." [Jn 15:26-27]

"...our God is a consuming fire" [Heb 12:29]

Jesus goes on to remind us that this testifying won't be easy, that many will fail to listen, and with closed hearts will reject His Word. Did you hear His prophecy?

"...the hour is coming when everyone who kills you will think he is offering worship to God" [Jn 16:2].

Yes, for many Christians throughout the world, that hour has already arrived. And so let's pray for today's persecuted Christians; and pray too for those who persecute them. Pray that these will hear God's Word of salvation, listen to it, and open their hearts to the conversion God desires for them.

And let us pray, too, for ourselves - we who so often place the things of this world ahead of God's will for us. Pray that we will be open to the Spirit's gifts, that like Lydia we'll listen and open our hearts and homes to Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Homily: 2nd Sunday of Lent, Year C

Readings: Gn 15:5-12,17-18; Phil17-4:1; Lk 9:28b-36

I’m sure each of us has witnessed remarkable transformations, in people or places.

Just a few years after the end of World War II, my family spent a year in Germany. It was a remarkable time, for the destruction caused by the war was still very much evident. In some cities, almost everything was destroyed. Homes, apartment houses, shops, small businesses, large factories had been turned into unrecognizable piles of brick and broken concrete.

But thanks to the Marshall Plan and the power of the human spirit, rebuilding had already begun. And by the time I returned ten years later, Western Europe had been completely transformed. It was a remarkable example of the human spirit, in its darkest hour, rising to accomplish wonderful things.

But this resurrection of post-war Europe pales in comparison to the rebuilding God has promised us – the miraculous restoration He will accomplish in our resurrection from the dead. As St. Paul reminds us in the 2nd reading: 

 "…our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will change our lowly body to conform with His glorified body."

Today's Gospel reading from Luke gives us a glimpse of what Christ's glorified body is like. Before His Resurrection, Jesus' body was just like ours, subject to hunger and thirst, pain and pleasure, weakness and strength. But after the Resurrection, Christ's body was glorified, transfigured by His divine nature. And God will do the same for us.

The eternal life God has promised to those who love Him isn’t merely some sort of spiritual existence. It will include our material bodies, but bodies very different from what we now have. More than that we cannot say. What really matters is how our faith in the resurrection affects what we do in our lives today.

This is why this surprising event that Luke describes, the Transfiguration, took place; for the Transfiguration was both a glimpse into the future that God has planned for us, and a wake-up call for the here and now.

Yes, a wake-up call, for Peter, James and John had been asleep. How did Luke put it? "Jesus took Peter, John and James and went up the mountain to pray…" Then, just moments later, Luke tells us that "Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep."

Now, this was nothing new. In fact, the disciples spent a remarkable amount of time asleep, afraid, oblivious, blind, or hidden away.  Jesus often had to wake them up, open their eyes, calm their fears, and bring them out of hiding.

By the time Peter, James and John went up that mountain to pray with Jesus, they had seen Him heal the sick and cast devils into the sea.

They heard unclean spirits shriek and watched while a paralytic simply picked up his pallet and walked away. They had seen him walk on water and change water into wine.

In the past few months, they’d had all their fears challenged; all their sins revealed and forgiven.

They found themselves eating with sinners, laughing with tax collectors, talking to lepers and harlots and thieves.

They had left their comfortable lives, and set out on the adventure of a lifetime. And yet…and yet despite all this -- despite all their waking up and growing up and sitting up in wonder, when they followed Jesus up that mountain, they still fell asleep. Only eight days before the Holy Spirit had moved Peter to declare Jesus to be "the Christ, the Son of the Living God." But when Jesus spoke of His passion and death… well, Peter and the others would have none of it!

Then, on that mountaintop, flanked by Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, Jesus is transfigured before them. As His divinity is revealed, Peter, James and John awaken, and their own transformation begins.

Peter wanted to stay there. He wanted the moment to last forever. Is it any wonder? But God says, No. Not now. You must return to the world. You must do my work. You must take my love and my Word to all. You must do what my beloved Son tells you.

“Listen to him”, the voice of the Father cries. Listen! Do as He has commanded you, and you will share in the glory you see today. Listen…and be transformed.

He has sent me to announce Good News to the poor, to proclaim release for prisoners and give sight to the blind; to let the broken victims go free. Listen…and be transformed.

Do not be afraid. From now on, you will be fishers of men. Make disciples of all nations. And I will be with you even until the end of time. Listen…and be transformed.

I haven’t come to invite the righteous, but to call sinners to repentance. Your sins are forgiven you. Go and sin no more. Listen…and be transformed.

Blessed are you who accept your spiritual poverty, for the kingdom of God is yours. Blessed are you who show mercy, for you shall obtain mercy. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall receive comfort beyond your imagining. Blessed are you who are persecuted because of me, for your reward will be great. Listen…and be transformed.

Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. If you love only those who love you,
what credit is that to you? Listen…and be transformed.

Take and eat. This is my body given up for you. Take and drink. This is my blood, shed for you and for many, so that your sins may be forgiven. The Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ nourish us on the way to our destiny. In a few moments, as we process up the aisle to receive Jesus, we symbolize a people on a journey. And our firm "Amen" to the Body of Christ is a sign of our faith in the promise of Jesus: "Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have life eternal and I will raise them up on the last day." Listen to the Word of the Lord…and be transformed.

But just like Peter, John and James, we seem to spend a remarkable amount of time asleep. We spend so much of our lives afraid, oblivious, blind, and hidden away – hiding from the God who loves us. This season of Lent, Jesus wants us to awaken and open our eyes. He wants to calm our fears and bring us out of hiding.

How many of us spend Lent fretting about what we’ll give up? Desserts, movies, coffee, a favorite TV show? And on Fridays we trade pepperoni pizza for fish and chips. But today's Gospel reminds us that, above all, Lent is a season of transformation. It’s a time to wake up, to open our eyes so that like the three Apostles, we can see Jesus in his glory. It’s a time to listen, so we can hear His voice calling us to be fully aware and fully alive – to live our faith every moment of our lives.

Lent is a time to take your place beside Abraham, to look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.

Lent is a time to stand beside Moses and tell stories of liberation; for that's what Jesus gave us – freedom – freedom from sin, freedom to do the Father's will. We’ve been brought out of slavery, redeemed at a great price, by the blood of the Father’s only Son.

Lent is a time to come out of hiding and walk with Elijah, to spread the Good News fearlessly to all who will hear.

Lent is a time to listen, to hear the urgency of Christ's message to each one of us – a message of love He never tires of repeating.

Lent is a time for prayer, for it’s in our prayer life that we are most open to the God’s Word.

Yes, brothers and sisters, Lent is a time to listen… a time to be transformed. Don’t let it go to waste.