Just a few weeks ago, the stock market was flourishing. The Dow Jones Industrial Average hit its all-time high of 29,551 points on 12 February; that was less than a month ago. And yet, that seems to be a world away, doesn’t it, and now it resembles a roller coaster, with wild swings up and down – mostly down – as the coronavirus, officially known as COVID-19 or even more correctly SARS-CoV-2, interrupts trade and travel for so many and has us all concerned for our health and the health of our loved ones. Of course, we all knew that the stock market would make a correction; we just didn’t expect it to be caused by a virus. It reminds me of the Gospel lesson on this second Sunday of Lent. Let me give you the backstory for today’s Gospel reading. Jesus had just announced to his disciples that his mission on earth was to suffer and die for the salvation of humanity. It was not welcome news for those who were his followers, for obvious reasons of their own safety and security, but also because it conflicted with their own grandiose plans. After all, they had just spent time with Jesus as he drew larger and larger crowds, healing the sick, feeding thousands and even raising people from the dead. They thought that following Jesus was a shortcut to fame and power. Being a disciple of Jesus seemed to put them on the fast track to glory. And who could blame them? Jesus was the greatest teacher since Moses, the greatest miracle worker since Elijah. Ah yes, in Jesus it seemed like “happy days were here again.”
But then, just as rest and prosperity seemed assured, Jesus began talking about suffering and dying, of beatings and crosses. So much for the disciples’ forecast of an easy life! Instead, Jesus predicted darkness and storms ahead. Suddenly, a cloud of fear and anxiety began to overcome their hearts and minds. What if Jesus left them? How could they go on alone? And when they looked to Jesus for comfort, they saw that he, too, was struggling with his mission. Make no mistake about it; the business of carrying a cross is not a matter to be taken lightly. And we who journey through these days of Lent as followers of Christ must never forget it, especially when we hear Jesus tell us that, unless we take up our cross daily, we cannot be his disciples.
What did Jesus do in this moment when he was facing the impending darkness of suffering and death? He took three of his disciples and headed up a mountain. Why? Was he retreating from his mission, or running away, or hiding from his enemies? No. He was getting away from the distractions of public life enough to stay close to and in touch with his real source of strength – his intimacy with his heavenly Father. You will note that, although we don’t hear it in today’s Gospel passage, the Gospel of Luke explains that Jesus went up the mountain to pray. And he wanted his disciples to know that source too, since they would face their own dark times ahead, and would have to know where to turn for light in the darkness, for life in the face of death, for hope in seemingly hopeless times.
We all know the powerful story of the Transfiguration of Jesus on the mountain; we hear this account on every Second Sunday of Lent. Peter, James and John witnessed an amazing sight as Jesus began to glow like the sun. It was as if the tent flap covering the glory of God blew open for a moment, revealing a reality normally concealed from their sight. This event certainly made an impression on these disciples. Decades later, John would write, “We have seen his glory.” And Peter would write, “We were eyewitnesses to his majesty.” This moment helped the disciples to realize that the glory and presence of God is much closer than we know. It reminds me of what Fr. Joseph Fitzmyer, one of the great scripture scholars I was privileged to have as my professor while studying at Catholic University, had to say about this event. He commented that, although it was remarkable that Jesus, the Son of God, came to be with us as a man, it was even more remarkable that God in all his glory would hide himself in the simple, sinful state of a human being.
And notice, beside Jesus stood the figures of Moses and Elijah, the very representatives of the Law and the Prophets. What were these three talking about? We don’t know but we might guess. Moses and Elijah were more than symbols of the Old Testament, they were heroes of faith who knew something about wilderness experiences. They had experienced the highs of God’s clear voice, and the lows of God’s apparent absence. Moses and Elijah were men who were familiar with suffering. They knew the pangs of rejection by the very people they were called to lead. Remember, Moses narrowly escaped death as an infant, had to flee for his life as a young man and then had to face the wrath of Pharaoh while God blasted Egypt with one plague after another. Then, Moses had to put up with his fellow Israelites as they complained against him while they wandered in the desert. Elijah had to flee for his life after he upset the king’s wife who was leading the king to false gods. And their suffering, their wilderness experiences, refined and heightened their awareness of God’s nearness.
These were men who had been matured by life’s suffering. If you check around, we still find that all the great lives, the real saints, the wisest and most compassionate of friends, are people who have learned from their suffering. It seems that God’s grace puddles up in the scars inflicted by life. Unscarred lives rarely reflect the glory and grace of God.
So what was the purpose of this transfiguration experience? To teach the disciples that Jesus was not mistaken about his identity and his mission. What a comfort to Jesus, and what an affirmation to the disciples, for the heavenly voice to say again the words announced at the baptism of Jesus, “this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” There would be times ahead in Jesus’ life when the heavens would fall silent, when the blinding light would be replaced by a darkened noon sky, when he would be flanked by two dying thieves, instead of two immortal saints. On that day there would be no miraculous parting of the Red Sea to save him from the power of a hostile ruler and no chariot to take Jesus away from death. No. Jesus would go all the way to death in obedience to his Father’s love.
And if we follow Jesus, we will all face some moments like that, too. There will be times when our suffering will make us feel alone, even God-forsaken, when we will cry out to heaven for relief and hear only silence. In those times, let us draw strength from the lessons we learn in today’s gospel. Let us harken to the lesson Saint Paul teaches in today’s second reading to bear our share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God. In life and in death, no matter how lonely suffering or rejection makes you feel, remember you are never alone. As God accompanied Abraham as he set out on the journey God laid out for him in today’s first reading, God will accompany us to encourage us on the way he sets before us. Even if you cannot see his face or hear his voice, God is with you. As we continue our Lenten journey, let us follow Jesus closely, accompanying him through suffering and death to the glory of the Resurrection. This is more important than following the rise and fall of the stock market or the spread of COVID-19; they only affect our lives here on earth. Following Jesus impacts our lives for all eternity.