RISING TO THE TRANSCENDENT

A SERMON FOR TRANSFIGURATION SUNDAY

The Second Sunday in Lent is often called “Transfiguration Sunday” because of the Gospel we have just read.  What a far cry it is from last week.  If we were to give a name to last Sunday, it should probably be “Temptation Sunday,” as you’ll remember the Gospel described the three temptations of Christ. From Temptation to Transfiguration seems like quite a leap, doesn’t it?  And yet there’s a certain flow here, a certain cause and effect, even, which we can use as a help in our own path to salvation.

Look at the third and last of the temptations of Christ in the wilderness: “Again,” the Gospel tells us, “the devil taketh him up into an exceeding high mountain.”  And then in this week’s Gospel, “Jesus taketh Peter, James, and John, his brother, and bringeth them up into an high mountain apart.”  In each case, the prelude to the action, as it were, is the ascent of a high mountain, “an exceeding high mountain” in the first instance, and “an high mountain apart” in the second.  

These are by no means the only two times in Holy Scripture that men ascend high mountains to receive some great revelation.  We have only to think of Moses receiving the Ten Commandments at the summit of Mount Sinai, of Elijah finding God on Mount Horeb, not in the fire, nor in the whirlwind, but in the “still small voice of calm.”  After the chastisement of mankind, Noah’s Ark came to rest on the summit of Mount Ararat, and for the redemption of mankind, Christ died on the summit of Mount Calvary.  Even in modern times, when St. Francis wanted to prepare himself for the Feast of St. Michael the Archangel, he went up to the heights of Mount Alvernia, and there he fasted forty days and forty nights, during which time he received our Lord’s stigmata in his own hands and feet and side. 

One may wonder why we must first climb high before the reason for the climb is revealed.  Is it something to do, perhaps, with the rarified atmosphere as we reach the heights far above sea level?  Is it that the air is thinner, so that our physiology is more susceptible to visions of heavenly things?  Or is it simply that on the mountain tops, we are “nearer, my God, to thee?”  Nearer to God, our Father “who art in heaven?”  But I don’t think either one of these explanations fits the bill.  Surely, God would not trivialize the great events that happened on these mountains, by restricting them to a specific altitude, whether altitude is meant to signify either their distance above sea level, or their distance below heaven!  

Let’s face it though, the great height they all have in common cannot be a coincidence.  There’s a reason, isn’t there, why, in order to be close to the Most High Omnipotent Good Lord, we must ourselves ascend to the heights.  Why we must leave behind the lower things of the earth so we can reach the higher things of heaven, so we can replace the material with the spiritual, the natural with the supernatural, the things of creation with the things of the Creator.  And so we climb above these lower things.  The mountains that our Lord climbed, and Moses and Elijah and St. Francis, all symbolize this rising above the things of this world into the higher world of the spirit, the higher world of God himself.

Even the Devil knew this, and last week he took advantage of it to take our Lord to the top of an exceeding high mountain. There, he “sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them;and saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”  He took him to up the mountain top, so that he could “reveal” to our Lord that he, Satan, was God and should be adored.  It was a clever plan, “diabolically clever” as they say.  But as Christ was himself God, he knew very well who this imposter was, that this tempter was the fallen angel who had once before likened himself unto God and had been thrown out of heaven for his insolence.  Satan now found himself thrown out a second time as our Lord admonished him: “Get thee hence, Satan: for it is written, Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.”

This week, it is our Lord’s turn to take his three favorite disciples up a “high mountain apart”.  He did not bribe them by showing them all the kingdoms of the world and offering them to Peter, James and John.  He did not demand that they worship him.  He simply showed himself to be God, something that Satan, of course, could never do.  His face shone as the sun and his raiment glowed, white as snow.  Moses and Elijah appeared with him, representing the Law and the Prophets, each of whom had made their own fast of forty days and forty nights before ascending their own mountains at Sinai and Horeb.  When St. Peter saw this, he wanted to build tabernacles for the three of them.  His thinking was still confused and he hadn’t yet realized that Moses and Elijah were there to proclaim Christ as the Messiah, the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. It took a voice from heaven, declaring Christ to be the Son of God, to remind him that the Law and the Prophets depend on the Transfigured One: “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Hear ye him!”

What an amazing sight at the top of this mountain! We can read about it in the Gospels, but if we want to see for ourselves a dim glimpse of the living and true God, we must go with these three disciples, Peter, James and John, and follow them.  Where else did our blessed Lord take these three disciples?  Was it not up another mountain, to a garden on the Mount of Olives, a garden called Gethsemane?  Here he was transfigured a second time, not in the glorified vision of the transfiguration, but into the “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” as the prophet Isaiah had foretold. A mountain on which his face and body were covered with the sweat of blood, and his soul, as he told them, was “sorrowful unto death.”  This second vision by Peter, James and John was no less powerful than the one they witnessed today at the Transfiguration.  And yet, their reaction was to fall asleep.  If we want to see for ourselves that glimpse of God, we must follow them to Gethsemane, yes, but we must not fall asleep when we get there.  Behold instead this Man of Sorrows, and behold in him the terrible consequences of our own weaknesses, imperfections, and sins.

None of us like to dwell on the somber facts of life and death.  We don’t mind thinking about good things of our faith, the beautiful Mass, the nice statues, our cute little rosary beads in their matching boxes.  We’re very content today to spend happy time with our corned beef and cabbage in one hand and a glass of Guinness in the other.  But how much thought do we give to the great hardships St. Patrick endured to convert the Irish pagans?  We manage to “survive” Lent by thinking about the goodies we’ll enjoy at Easter.  We would join St. Peter in a heartbeat when he said “It’s good for us to be here.” But when it comes to sorrow and suffering, it’s a different story.  Where was St. Peter as our Lord died on Mount Calvary?  He wasn’t at the foot of the Cross, declaring that it was “good for us to be here.”  And yet we mustbe there.  We must keep vigil with our Lord on the Mount of Olives, we must comfort him on Mount Calvary, and yes, with him we must do battle against Satan on our own Mountains of Temptation.  It’s time to do the preparation now.  We know what that involves—to spend a full forty days and forty nights in fasting and penance, as we climb these mountains with Christ and experience with him the hardship, pain and sorrow of his own sacrifice.  Today, we’re permitted to enjoy with him for a short time the glory of his divinity and the promise of our own ultimate reward in heaven. Let today’s corned beef and cabbage be our symbols today, and reinforce in us a determination to persevere in penance long after we are transfigured today, hopefully not by one Guinness too many! Our ultimate reward is of infinitely greater value than the transitory pleasures of this life, and today’s oasis is just that—a chance to take a breath before we plunge once more into the waters of strife. Let’s not lose focus.  If we are to achieve that final reward in heaven, let’s not forget we must first obey the command of our Father in heaven, “Hear ye him.”