by Father Anthony F. Raso
“It wasn’t so much what he said. It’s how he said it.” This is a phrase we use like a double-edged sword: Sometimes, a person can say the right words, but you can tell that, for all intents and purposes, he’s phoning it in.
On the other hand, we have St. Paul today writing to the Philippians. He’s telling them to keep up the good work – hold high the cross of salvation – and not to fall into “bad work.” It’s a good message of course, especially for anyone who, as St. Paul says, wants to have his citizenship in heaven. It all looks good on paper, but it speaks much more loudly and well when you see how much St. Paul means what he’s saying.
Great Devotion and Love
“I’ve often told this to you,” he says, “and now (I) tell you again in tears.” He wants the people of Philippi to be saved because he genuinely loves them and is genuinely afraid that the “world” and all of its temptations will drive them to the darkness and away from the Light of Christ. When he warns them that this might happen, he is doing so to the point of tears, so great is his devotion to them and his love for them.
In case they didn’t get the message already, he closes with the words, “Therefore, my brethren whom I love and long for, my joy and my crown, in this way stand firm in the Lord, beloved.” Paul is certainly a saint himself, but even that isn’t enough for him. His joy can come to him only if everyone in Philippi becomes a saint with him. He’s not in this pilgrimage alone; he wants his sisters and brothers – all of them – to join him in heaven and to continue the journey in the right direction today.
This is, needless to say, a wonderful message for this Second Sunday of Lent because this has to be the way we think ourselves. We are pilgrims in this world and pilgrims care for one another from their hearts. This is precisely what we are expressing just before Communion time at every Mass: The sign of peace is an expression of the intention I have as a Christian not to journey to heaven alone. I want you with me. I may not know your name, but God has your name written in His heart just as He has mine written there. We are not strangers in church but sisters and brothers. It is not “my” salvation that I care about and work for. It’s “our” salvation that makes it all real. The Lord Himself and some of His greatest saints have died for me, and I will live for you.
We see this same sort of breathless intensity today in our first reading from Genesis. Abraham realizes that God is making a covenant with him so that all of his people can live in a Promised Land here on earth and therefore, go to the same kingdom after this life.
Abraham not only rejoices in this; He is not only saying “yes” in a sort of passive, reverent manner. He gathers together the animals for sacrifice. He chases away the birds of prey that might violate that sacrifice and seems to work so hard at it that he knocks himself out and falls asleep. This man believes in the word of God’s promise and does so with an enthusiasm that is absolutely endearing to read about all of these centuries later.
This brings us to the Gospel today and its wondrous tale of the Transfiguration. When James and John see this, they are speechless with wonder. Then there’s Peter. He’s never speechless at all, ever. He speaks, and to tell the truth, does so foolishly, offering to build three tents for Jesus and His two heavenly companions. OK, St. Luke says, he “…doesn’t know what he is saying.” That is certainly understandable.
Listen, if I had been up there on that mountain, I would have reacted like James and John, amazed and utterly speechless. Peter speaks foolishly, but he is, as usual, all heart and all love. His mistakes make our efforts at good works look puny. He hears these words: “This is my chosen Son; Listen to Him,” and he believes them. His heart belongs to his Lord. It is no wonder that Peter is such a great saint; At his silliest he is still wiser than most of us at our best.
Paul, Abraham and Peter love the Lord, appreciate the graces they’ve been given and want to share them with all of their sisters and brothers. If all of us reacted in the same way and meant it from our hearts as these three did, the Kingdom of Heaven would look awfully familiar to us when we got there because the Kingdom of God on earth had shone so brightly with love.
If there is a goal to set for ourselves this Lent, I think that certainly ought to be the one.
Readings for the Second Sunday of Lent
Genesis 15: 5-12, 17-18
Psalm 27: 1, 7-8, 8-9, 13-14
Philippians 3: 17 – 4: 1 or Philippians 3: 20 – 4: 1
Luke 9: 28b-36
[hr] Father Anthony F. Raso is the newly appointed administrator of Guardian Angel parish, Brighton Beach.
