Sometimes the Apostles seem to be a bit thick: immediately before today's Gospel Jesus spells it out for them "the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again" - and yet they still argue amongst themselves about what "rising from the dead" could possibly mean. It's a weakness in our human nature that we baulk at the Cross - that we naturally flee or fall away in the face of it. Jesus' transfiguration today is His way of communicating the glory that is won through suffering, and asks us; if you want the glory of God, what are you willing to sacrifice?
In my home parish there used to be a very old woman, who always sat right at the front. Almost every Sunday without fail, the priest would begin the Mass in the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, only to be immediately interrupted by this particular lady bellowing at the top of her lungs, “Can’t hear you!” - my parish priest and his various assistants had the patience of saints, they never said anything in response and often even tried speaking louder for her.
It’s one of our most common complaints in this parish - I can’t hear - especially at St Thomas’ with it’s out of date sound-system and enormous echo.
I sometimes wonder if it was like that when Jesus preached, before the days of microphones; if there were people at the back of the crowd shouting out ‘tell the Rabbi I can’t hear a word he’s saying!’
The members of Monty Python certainly seem to think so. One of the early scenes of their Life of Brian opens up on Christ preaching the Sermon on the mount before panning back, all the way to where Brian and his mother Mandy and one or two others are standing and struggling to hear. The cheap seats. They can’t really hear, and so the beatitudes get badly misinterpreted; Blessed are the peacemakers, becomes blessed are the cheese-makers, it isn’t the Meek who will inherit the earth but the Greek. Even with their mishearing Jesus, the listeners try to explain and interpret what Jesus is saying, and so one character says to his wife; “Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally, it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.” Hardly biblical exegesis at its finest!
Today’s Gospel picks up in the aftermath of the sermon on the mount; Jesus has fed the crowds, and He has begun his journeying again. This Gospel isn’t about the men and women in the cheap seats, but the VIP section of the crowd - the twelve Apostles, the closest followers, the ones chosen to be Christ’s witnesses: as close to the action as it is possible to get. We’re meeting them today immediately after a pivotal moment. Jesus asks them, who do you say that I am, Peter confesses his Faith and is given the keys to the Kingdom of heaven, and then Christ lays bare for them the plan of salvation; that he will be handed over to die, and that He will rise again from the dead.
One might understand if the outsiders, the men and women in the cheap seats, misunderstand Jesus, but it is baffling to us that the Apostles so often don’t understand what Jesus is saying - today, even after seeing Christ in all his transfigured glory, the Gospel writer says they continued to discuss amongst themselves what “rising from the dead” could mean. The Crucifixion is the thing they can’t or won’t understand; whenever he talks about it, they either argue with Him (as Peter did in the passage immediately preceding this one) or they argue amongst themselves about what it could possibly mean! One can almost hear them now, like the man in the life of Brian saying to each other “well obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally…”
As the Cross gets closer, more and more people abandon Jesus. The crowds desert him, then they turn on Him. The disciples abandon Him. Even the Apostles fall away, until the only two left by Christ’s side are His Blessed Mother, and John the Beloved. It was unimaginable to them, to anyone, that their long-hoped for Messiah would be anything other than a great conquering King come to lead them to glory. It’s part of our fallen human nature - we want glory, we want heaven, we’re sold on that, but we really don’t want Calvary. We don’t want to suffer the Cross.
The mystery of the transfiguration, the moment when Jesus’ glory shone through and overpowered His humanity, only comes after He has prophesied his own death. He is a conquering King, but the enemy he came to conquer was not Rome, but death. The means of his conquest was not by the sword by by the Cross. He speaks of His death, then he takes the three Apostles who will join Him in the hour before his betrayal on the Mountain of Olivet, Peter, John, and James, up a mountain to see the glory of the Cross. To have a glimpse of who He really is. He appears with Moses, because His sacrifice is the completion of the sacrifices of the Law. He appears with Elijah because His passion and death is the fulfilment of the prophecies of the Messiah. The Father calls Him beloved, because He is about to fulfil His plan for salvation. This moment comes because of the Cross.
Today’s Gospel reminds us then, that we are called to be sharers in the glory of Christ; the transfigured Christ shining in glory is a demonstration of how we will be in the resurrection. Human, but more than human, illuminated by the divine light of God. But it also reminds us of the path to that glorification; the hard and rocky road to Calvary, and the suffering of the Cross. If we want to share in His glory, we must share in His Cross.
We share in Christ’s Cross by imitation of His suffering and his sacrifice. We do it when we suffer against our will, by offering it up as a sacrifice for the salvation of others. We do it also when we voluntarily suffer, especially through fasting and penance. If today asks nothing else of us, in this season of Lent, it asks us to deepen and intensify our fasting, to give up something we will actually miss, to willingly experience the discomfort of abstaining, and offer it as a sacrifice for the salvation of others. This is mirrored in the willing sacrifice of Abraham in our first reading - a reminder to hold nothing back from the Lord who has made us the promise of glory.
Today’s Gospel reminds us of our coming glory, and it prods us, asking; what are you willing to sacrifice?
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