August 27^th 2017. Twenty-first Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL: Matthew 16:13-20

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Don Fabio’s reflection follows the Gospel reading ...

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GOSPEL: Matthew 16:13-20

Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi and
he asked his disciples,
"Who do people say that the Son of Man is?" 
They replied, "Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah,
still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets." 
He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" 
Simon Peter said in reply,
"You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." 
Jesus said to him in reply,
"Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. 
For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. 
And so I say to you, you are Peter,
and upon this rock I will build my church,
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. 
I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. 
Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;
and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." 
Then he strictly ordered his disciples
to tell no one that he was the Christ.

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ

Kieran’s summary . . . The first reading from Isaiah 22 recounts how the master of the palace in Jerusalem is invested in his new office. A huge key is laid upon his shoulders. When the new master of the palace uses this key to open a door, then no one will ever be able to close it again, and when he closes a door, no one will ever be able to open it again. Whenever we hear of something being laid on someone’s shoulders, we think of Christ. In what way is the cross of Christ the key to the Kingdom of Heaven? In the Gospel, Peter professes that Jesus is the Christ and the Son of God. In response, Jesus gives Peter the key to the Kingdom of heaven, the power to bind and loose in heaven and on earth. What is this power of Peter and the Church to bind and loose? We think of binding and loosing as two contrasting acts, but in fact both of them are acts that lead to heaven. The Church pardons sins, looses our chains of slavery and opens the door to the Father. But it also binds people together under a common Father. Binding does not refer to closing the way to heaven. In matrimony, the Church binds two people together in an indissoluble bond. Just as Jesus bound Mary and John together from the cross, so too with his cross does he bind all of us together in baptism. This acts of binding and loosing are acts of heaven and last forever. In Confirmation, the Holy Spirit is given to us in a permanent way. The gift of the Spirit is there for me if I wish to avail of it. When we are baptised, the path to the Father is permanently open and will never be closed, but it is up to me in my freedom to traverse this path. If I profess Jesus as Christ and Son of God, but do not unite myself to my brothers and sisters in Christ, then there is something inauthentic about my profession. I do not truly know who Christ is unless my knowledge is accompanied by my allowing myself to be bound to others under a common Father.

How fickle and chaotic are our decisions, our affections, our relationships! We claim to love, or promise to be faithful, but we waver when the slightest difficulty arises. We are constantly in a state of opening and closing. The first reading, by contrast, speaks of a man who will close and never again open, and open and never again close. Surely this is possible only for God!

This Sunday we hear the celebrated profession of faith by Peter from Matthew’s Gospel: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." This passage is of vital importance and it is very interesting to see how the liturgy introduces it. The first reading is from Isaiah 22 and it furnishes us – in more ways than one – with a “key” of interpretation. In fact, this reading speaks of a very particular sort of key. The servant Shebna is being removed from his role of master of the household of the palace of Jerusalem and is being replaced by Eliakim. This was a role of great authority in the city of Jerusalem and the bearer wore a particular tunic and belt. In the ceremony of investiture of the master of the palace, the candidate was given a key that was so large that it had to be laid upon his shoulders. This image is of great symbolic significance. It is interesting that the key that truly opens and closes is one that is borne upon the shoulders. In the Bible, whenever we think of something being borne upon the shoulders, we are immediately led to the New Testament and the Lord Jesus who bears the cross upon his shoulders. The reading from Isaiah states that once this new master of the household arrives and receives the key upon his shoulders, then whenever he opens a door no-one will close it, and when he closes a door no-one will be able to open it. Opening and closing as irreversible acts; acts that no-one will be able to undo in the future. Such acts would be definitive and eternal. These acts would be opposed to modes of behaviour that are constantly in flux, states of the soul that constantly vacillate in a chaotic and confused way. How vain and fickle are our sentimental attitudes! We think we have understood things and in reality we have not comprehended even a fraction of what is important. We think we have developed mature sentiments but then we buckle in the face of the slightest difficulty. The notion that something can be opened forever, or closed and never again be opened, is the notion of something that contains within it the eternity of God.

Peter is given a particular power which links heaven and earth. He is given this power when he recognizes that Jesus is divine and is the expected Messiah

In the Gospel, we are presented with the moment that Peter learns to call Jesus by his name, recognizing the hidden truth that his master is not just another master but the Messiah and the Son of God. It is at this moment that Peter receives a key, the key of heaven, the key of the irreversible. “Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" – these are the acts of God, acts of heaven, acts that proclaim sentences that cannot be appealed. Peter is to be the head of the church and the beginning of all the ecclesial acts that are to follow. Through his profession of faith in Jesus as Son of God and as the Christ, he is given the authority to bind and to loose.

Binding and loosing are not contrasting acts. Both lead to heaven. One opens the way to heaven. The other binds us to God or binds us to each other under a common Father

Binding and loosing are not necessarily acts that are opposed to each other. When the Church pardons sins, it opens wide the doors of heaven and they cannot be closed again. Baptism cannot be nullified, but people can refuse the pardon that has been given to them. Once we have received baptism, the gates of heaven remain open to us. All the baptized have a road open to them that leads to the Father. Whether we take that road depends on our liberty and our free disposition, but the Lord on his side never closes the door again. The work of temptation obscures and casts doubt on this fact. We go through moments when we believe that God is against us on account of the things that we have done. But God is never against us. It is we who refuse to accept what he is offering us. His love is so authentic that he sometimes permits our lives to be difficult, bitter or hard, but all for our good. In all things he opens the door wide to us and he permits the Church to bear witness to this openness. Apart from loosing, the Church also binds. Binding doesn’t always necessitate closing. It often means “to unite”. St Paul speaks of the “bond of charity”. We are all bound to each other in baptism. Baptism involving loosing the chains of sin and slavery to a world that is merely natural, freeing us for a greater existence, but it also involving binding us all together. In baptism we receive God as our Father, but we also receive many brothers and sisters in the Church. In the Gospel of John, Jesus unites Mary and John from the cross. To Mary he says, “Behold your son!” and to John he says, “Behold your mother!” They were not mother and son previously, but Jesus binds them together in this way. This is the power of the cross of Christ, to bind strangers together, to make isolated individuals into one single body. This is the great challenge placed before the Church. How much time have we wasted, men and women of the Church, embroiled in things of no consequence! We are called to throw open the doors of heaven and unite people together in fraternal bonds.

The Church binds us to God and to each other in indissoluble ways. If, like Peter, I truly know who Christ is and am able to profess his identity, then I will feel a bond with all my brothers and sisters in this same Christ

This marvellous Gospel announces that the road to the Father is open and that we can be united together. The sacrament of matrimony is indissoluble if it is validly celebrated and received. In other words it is bound in heaven and has eternal significance. When the sacrament of confirmation is celebrated, the gift of the Holy Spirit is surely bestowed. We are bound by this gift of the Spirit who remains there waiting for us. The door for us to live by the Spirit remains open, but it is we who do not avail of the gift. This is the drama of the human condition, the fact that we have been given freedom and are called to love freely. Upon the shoulders of the Church a key has been laid. Let us use this key! Let us open the door to God. Let us open the door to faith. Let us permit ourselves to be visited by God and enter into the assembly of first born children, as the letter to the Hebrews says. The key borne by the Church permits us all to be sons of God in the Son. Let us allow the power of faith to bind us together, to establish these happy bonds of matrimony, fraternity, paternity. It is beautiful when these bonds are lived in a spiritual way, in the faith in a common Father in heaven, and not according to the idols of the world. All of this is linked to the knowledge of who Christ is. If I claim to know who Jesus is, and am able to profess that he is the Messiah and the Son of God, but if I do not know how to follow the way to the Father and if I refuse to bind myself to my brothers, then there is something here that doesn’t make sense: I do not truly comprehend who Jesus is. If I truly knew who Jesus was, then I would also know who my brothers and sisters are, and I would automatically feel myself bound to them

August 20^th 2017. Twentieth Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL: Matthew 15:21-28

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Don Fabio’s reflection follows the Gospel reading ...

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GOSPEL: Matthew 15:21-28

At that time, Jesus withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. 
And behold, a Canaanite woman of that district came and called out,
"Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David! 
My daughter is tormented by a demon." 
But Jesus did not say a word in answer to her. 
Jesus' disciples came and asked him,
"Send her away, for she keeps calling out after us."
He said in reply,
"I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
But the woman came and did Jesus homage, saying, "Lord, help me." 
He said in reply,
"It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs." 
She said, "Please, Lord, for even the dogs eat the scraps
that fall from the table of their masters." 
Then Jesus said to her in reply,
"O woman, great is your faith! 
Let it be done for you as you wish." 
And the woman's daughter was healed from that hour.

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ

Kieran’s summary . . . A Canaanite woman asks Jesus to cure her daughter. He gives her three responses which, frankly, are quite disturbing. Firstly, he ignores her. Then, when she persists, he says that he has only come to save the lost sheep of the House of Israel. Finally, when she kneels before him, he tells her that it is not right that the food of the children of Israel be thrown to the dogs. Why does Jesus respond in this cold, disinterested and rude way? But come to think of it, doesn’t God often ignore our prayers and our pleas? How often he seems disinterested in our plight! How often it seems that the Lord could do with a little advice from us so that he would know better how to intervene in history. But the Christian life is something richer and deeper than immediate reactions or quick fixes. The story of this Canaanite woman points to something fundamental in the life of prayer and in the life of faith. She does not reject the description of herself as a dog. She acknowledges that she has no right to ask anything of the Lord, but she also places herself in front of him, confessing him as her master and recognizing that she needs a crumb of nourishment from him. When Jesus draws out this response from the woman, he compliments her in a remarkable way: “Woman, how great is your faith!” She demonstrates the fundamental pattern of a right relationship of faith: the recognition that we are nothing, that we deserve nothing from the Lord, acknowledging him as our master and asking for a crumb of nourishment from him.

How often we think that we have a monopoly on some particular experience of God. But the first reading tells us that everyone has the possibility of an intimate relationship with God

The first reading contains a text that is quoted by Jesus at the time that he drives the sellers out of the Temple: “My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples”. This passage from Isaiah 52 is one of those pieces of scripture that shatters the self-referential attitude that so often characterises our experience of God. When we have an experience of the divine how often we think that this is something that is reserved for me only, or for people of my ethnic group: we think we are the only ones who can possibly understand or merit this particular divine initiative. This tendency was a feature of the Hebrew experience of God and has been a feature of Christianity on many occasions. Instead of a beautiful experience leading us into communion with others, we tend to make it the basis for self-affirmation of our own group and the exclusion of others. In this latter part of the book of Isaiah, the prophet breaks down the fence of exclusion by stating that the sacrifices of other nations will be acceptable on the Lord’s holy mountain! This is something that would have been completely unacceptable from a ritual point of view. The Temple had an area reserved for the ordinary people of Israel. Then there was another area where only the Levites could enter, a further section reserved exclusively to the priests, and an inner part where only the high priest could enter. The idea that uncircumcised foreigners could enter this sacred area to offer sacrifice would have seemed like a completely disrespectful abandonment of protocol.

In the Gospel, Jesus replies rudely to a Canaanite woman and (at first) seems to imply that salvation is reserved to a very particular club

This first reading introduces us to a Gospel passage in which Jesus – at least in the beginning of the text – seems to contradict the sentiments of Isaiah. In fact, Jesus has an attitude that is frankly disturbing. A poor woman cries to the Lord, saying that she has a daughter tormented by a demon. At first Jesus ignores her completely and his disciples seem to have more compassion on her than he does. The woman comes after Jesus, still crying. Jesus still refuses to speak to her and says to his disciples, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel”. Already this statement doesn’t seem to make sense. They are already outside of Israel in the area of Tyre of Sidon, a pagan area. Who did Jesus expect to encounter in an area like this? Furthermore, he seems to be saying that anyone outside of Israel cannot be saved, and thus he appears to be denying the universal relevance of the Lord that Israel is called to serve. Then the woman prostrates herself in front of Jesus and says, “Help me Lord!” Jesus’ third response is the worst of the lot: “It is not good to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs”. What a lack of courtesy to describe this woman as a dog! The religious language of that area of the world would use the term “dog” to describe someone who doesn’t have the faith. Why does Jesus respond in this way?

Sometimes the Lord seems to have little interest in our plight or the plight of others. Why is he so slow to respond?

We sometimes ask the same question. Why does the Lord not respond to our prayers more promptly? Why do we have to implore him? Why is it that sometimes we seem to be more enlightened than divine providence itself? We seem to know what the Lord should do while he delays in doing it! A person is suffering and the Lord appears to be looking the other way. He does not seem to be all-knowing or even aware of the situation. I’ll let you know, Lord, what you need to do here. Why does the Lord permit himself to appear lazy, distracted, non-welcoming, disinterested in our plight? The answer is that our faith is not something that can be explained or comprehended in a superficial way. The human being cannot be described with reference to immediate things or instinctive impulses that lack true greatness. We are all called to grow. Life is a constant process of growth. Growth is an internal dynamic of evolution towards the truth and evolution in our relationships, of movement away from things that are immature or insufficient and towards things that are more authentic and real.

The early Church had to undergo a difficult process of recognition that salvation was being offered to all and that the prescriptions of the old covenant no longer applied

The Church in the first century had to undergo a process of opening beyond Judaism and towards the entire universe. This opening to all the men and women of the world seemed to many to be something that went against the instructions of the old covenant. The prescription of circumcision was considered an absolute. The bitter struggle, internal and external to the Church, would eventually give rise to the conviction, from Peter downwards, that persons who did not come from the Jewish family could enter fully into the salvation being offered by Christ. How often it happens that we have difficulty getting beyond rules and regulations that no longer serve any purpose. Changes of this sort are not always a condemnation of what went before: rather they involve real growth. If salvation is now available for the pagans, then this means that they too have this possibility of growth, of no longer being extraneous to the promises that were made to Israel. The woman in the Gospel is a pagan who is undergoing the process of experiencing the liberation of salvation. God himself, in the person of his beloved Son, will grant her request, which means that her sacrifice is being accepted (as per the first reading). Her daughter, the life that comes from this Canaanite woman, will be made whole. In other words, the woman will be the generator of a life that is good, beautiful and healthy. Jesus pays her an extraordinary compliment: “O woman, great is your faith!” The word “woman” in biblical language refers to one who generates faith and life. This woman will have blessed daughters; she will be a mother of life because she has faith.

How does this pagan lady have such faith? The key is her humility, her complete recognition that she is nothing and needs nourishment from the table of the Lord

How does a pagan arrive at this level of faith? The answer is contained in the woman’s words, “It is true Lord, but even the dogs eats the scraps that fall from the master’s table”. She does not reject the description of herself as a dog, but as a dog she asks for help. She places herself like a humble dog under the table. She says, “You have the true bread. You have what I need. I do not ask to be honoured or recognized. I just ask to be nourished. I do not pretend to be a daughter of yours. I am like just a poor domestic animal”. All of this might seem absurd or paradoxical, but it gives us the key to make a leap of progress in the spiritual life. It is all about making ourselves poor. The first Judeo-Christians had to open themselves to the ethnic Christians, the pagans from outside of Israel who became Christian. They had to make themselves poor and do something that was very difficult for the Jews: acknowledge that they had no special claim on salvation. In the Acts of the Apostles, the first Jewish believers in Christ had to have their hearts pierced by the words of Peter in order to come to an acknowledgement of the truth. In the Old Testament in various places we see that the people of Israel had difficulty in accepting that they were in need of salvation. By contrast, this pagan woman was able to do it, and Jesus acknowledged this by his statement, “How great is your faith!” Jesus had difficulty finding faith in Israel but he found it outside in this woman. She expresses her faith fundamentally in the recognition of her own poverty, as someone with no particular rights. When we humble ourselves before God, God bends immediately towards us. Jesus waited for that humility, that poverty, that authentic self-abandonment before him. The woman recognizes that she has no rights, that she has a master, that she must serve him, even though she doesn’t know how. All she asks is this crumb of nourishment. In prayer, in our relationship with God, we must remember that we are poor creatures who need this crumb of nourishment. We need God to give us that which we do not deserve. It is then that we become worthy. What a curious thing! The smaller we are, the greater we are. The poorer we are, the richer we are in him.

August 13^th 2017. Nineteenth Sunday of Ordinary Time

GOSPEL: Matthew 14,22-33

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Don Fabio’s reflection follows the Gospel reading ...

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GOSPEL: Matthew 14,22-33

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat
and precede him to the other side,
while he dismissed the crowds. 
After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. 
When it was evening he was there alone. 
Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore,
was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. 
During the fourth watch of the night,
he came toward them walking on the sea. 
When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. 
"It is a ghost," they said, and they cried out in fear. 
At once Jesus spoke to them, "Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid." 
Peter said to him in reply,
"Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water." 
He said, "Come." 
Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. 
But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened;
and, beginning to sink, he cried out, "Lord, save me!" 
Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught Peter,
and said to him, "O you of little faith, why did you doubt?" 
After they got into the boat, the wind died down. 
Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying,
"Truly, you are the Son of God."

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ

Kieran’s summary . . . This Sunday’s Gospel recounts the calming of the storm. Jesus wishes to go away by himself to pray, so he "makes” the disciples go across the lake by themselves. It is very significant that Jesus constrains the disciples in this way. They are experienced fishermen and would have been aware that the lake was prone to storms after the heat of the day. Often the Lord places us in situations that we would prefer not to be in. St Francis of Assisi abhorred leprosy, but the Lord in his providence placed Francis in the midst of lepers and Francis was transformed as a result. Similarly with each one of us. The Lord places us in situations we do not desire. As a result we call upon his name and we are able to do extraordinary things. When Peter sees Jesus walking upon the water, he tries to walk on the water too. Jesus has no problem with this. He wants us to do extraordinary things, to live the life of children of God. Peter is able to walk on the water for as long as he keeps his gaze fixed on Jesus, but when he looks to the storm he begins to sink. We are stronger than the adversities of life only for so long as we look to Jesus in faith. While we do this, the Lord can accomplish great things in us.

Elijah encounters God in an unexpected way and becomes an unstoppable man of God to the end.

The first reading recounts a fundamental experience in the life of the prophet Elijah. It is a time of grave crisis in the faith of Israel. During his struggles, Elijah is involved in an epic confrontation with the prophets of the Canaanite gods. He flees, but the Lord takes him to himself in the passage that we read on Sunday. Elijah is taking refuge in a cave of Mount Horeb. Recall that this same prophet would appear with Moses when Jesus climbed the mountain at the Transfiguration. Moses represents the Law whilst Elijah represents the prophets. In the account that appears in the first reading, Elijah has an experience of the Lord and recognizes him. As a result of this experience, the prophet is completely transformed and becomes an unstoppable man of God until the end.

Sometimes the Lord asks us to do what is difficult, to “go to the other side” even though we do not want to go

In the passage from Matthew proclaimed this Sunday, we hear of an experience that is fundamental and essential to the Christian life. The parallels with the first reading are clear. Just as Elijah had a real encounter with God, so the disciples in the Gospel have an experience that leads them to recognize that Jesus is the Son of God. There is an interesting phrase in the Gospel one could easily pass over: “After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into the boat”. The word “made” seems to indicate an aggressive attitude on the part of Jesus. In fact, the term used by Matthew in the Greek version of the Gospel found in the Septuagint (which we consider to be divinely inspired) is used elsewhere on occasions when people are being forced to do something. Why is this term used? One third of the disciples were originally fishermen and they were being asked to go to the other side of the sea, a command that would not have been easy for them to accept. The notion of crossing to the other side is particularly significant insofar as it recalls the Exodus and the sea that kills the enemy and saves the chosen people. This event, in fact, is at the centre of the Hebrew liturgy and a fundamental event in their history. The disciples in the Gospel, experienced fisherman as they are, are being asked to cross a sea with very particular characteristics at evening time. The sea of Tiberius has certain currents that give rise to storms in the late afternoon and evening. So the disciples are being given a task that is doubly challenging. Firstly, crossing to the other side is an action that has Paschal overtones, and they are being asked to do it without Jesus! Secondly they are being asked to do something that they know is ill-advised.

To dissolve the knots in our hearts, the Lord impels us to be where we would prefer not to be

In the end they go only because they are constrained to do so by Jesus, not because they want to. How often this happens to us in life! The Lord often wishes to give us no option but to do things that we would prefer to escape from. In the Book of Job we find the curious phrase, “That which I fear is happening to me”. Sometimes, to dissolve the knots in our hearts, the Lord must permit this to happen. He conspires to place us at the centre of things that we would prefer to flee from. Our lives are conditioned by our desire for personal wellbeing, by the tendency to flee from what is unpleasant. The case of St Francis of Assisi is emblematic in this respect. He had a horror of leprosy. As he says in his testament, it was a bitter thing for him even to see a leper, but the Lord in his providence brought him in the midst of lepers. This experience of being in a situation that he abhorred led to a complete transformation in Francis. The knots within him were dissolved and his tastes, preferences and priorities were all changed.

When we are in a situation that we abhor, that we cannot control, then we turn to the Lord and he replies, “Courage! It is I!”

The disciples must be brought to an awareness of their own limitations, and this happens through the storm and the reawakening of the fisherman’s fear of the ungovernable sea. They find themselves far out from shore with the wind against them. How often we find the wind against us in the Christian life! At the very moment when it seems that they cannot go on, they see Jesus walking upon the sea. The Lord had gone away by himself to pray, to be with the Father. Jesus is the new man who unites the divine and human natures. Thus he can walk above the storm, above what is difficult and absurd. Curiously the disciples cry out, “It is a ghost!” Christianity is often reduced to a spectre, to an abstraction, to something immaterial, to a beautiful utopia that has nothing to do with real things. But Jesus is no ghost and he says, “Courage! It is I!” This is the word we hear in the midst of the storm that assails us and that dissipates our fears.

  

For as long as we look to Jesus, we are stronger than any storm, but if we look fearfully at the storm then we find ourselves along and it will overcome us.

Peter asks Jesus to command him to come and walk on the water too. Jesus complies. Does this surprise us? It is for this that the Lord Jesus has come among us: to give us his life, to permit us to share in the things that he does, to make us children of God. Why is Peter unable to walk for long on the water? If we are to do the things of God, then we do them not from our own abilities or talents. Our human nature has no power over the void, over the things that threaten us. When Peter looks to Jesus then he is stronger than the storm, but as soon as he starts to focus on the storm then he must rely on his own capacities, and these are insufficient. We do not possess in our make-up the capacity to defeat our enemies. It is only in our relationship with God, by fixing our gaze intently on him in faith, that we have the solutions to the enigmas of our lives. This Sunday we discover that we can walk upon the water, that we can do extraordinary things, not because we are capable, but because God is capable of doings these things in us. In all things let us look to the Lord, in all things let us walk towards him, and then we will find that we will fly through all adversities, over all the crossings of the sea.

August 6^th 2017. Feast of the Transfiguration

GOSPEL: Matthew 17,1-9

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Translated from a homily by Don Fabio Rosini, broadcast on Vatican Radio

Don Fabio’s reflection follows the Gospel reading ...

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GOSPEL: Matthew 17, 1-9

Jesus took Peter, James, and his brother, John, 
and led them up a high mountain by themselves.
And he was transfigured before them; 
his face shone like the sun 
and his clothes became white as light.
And behold, Moses and Elijah appeared to them,
conversing with him.
Then Peter said to Jesus in reply, 
"Lord, it is good that we are here.
If you wish, I will make three tents here, 
one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah."
While he was still speaking, behold,
a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, 
then from the cloud came a voice that said, 
"This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him."
When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate
and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,
"Rise, and do not be afraid."
And when the disciples raised their eyes, 
they saw no one else but Jesus alone.
As they were coming down from the mountain,
Jesus charged them,
"Do not tell the vision to anyone 
until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."

The Gospel of the Lord: Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ

Kieran’s summary . . . In our world, things are normally illuminated by the sun. Whether the sun is shining or not colours everything we see. Our perspective tends to be from our own particular viewpoint. In the Gospel, Jesus takes the three disciples up a mountain and they are enabled to see things from a wholly new vantage point. The sun is no longer the source of light, for the face of Jesus and his garments begin to shine like the sun. Think how different our existence would be if we allowed the light of Christ to illuminate every aspect of it! This light does not come and go but shines constantly because Jesus will never abandon us. But what is revealed to the disciples up the mountain? The Father begins to speak and says, “This is my Son, in whom I delight. Listen to him”. God reveals himself as a loving Father who is utterly absorbed in delight with his Son. But this word is also for us! We are asked to listen to Jesus, to obey him and enter into union with him, becoming his body in the world. Then we begin to perceive that the love and delight of the Father is directed towards us as well. How different our perspective on life when it is illuminated by the light of the paternal love of the Father for us in Christ!

Our human perspective on things is limited. How we need the perspective of God!

The first reading from the book of Daniel is a very solemn and powerful passage. It speaks of a vision of one who is similar to a “Son of Man” and who will be given the kingdom, the power and the glory. He will be an eternal word without end. All peoples and tongues shall serve him. In the Hebrew tradition this figure is a synthesis of everything regarding the promised Messiah. The character of this passage is apocalyptic: it reveals something that lies hidden. The vision occurs to Daniel at night and it permits him to see beyond the darkness. At the time of the vision, the people of Israel had been suffering great oppression under Antiochus Epiphanes (about 175 B.C.) The vision of Daniel shows that a greater power is on its way, a power that seems to be denied by the present situation of misery. But to see something at night time, in the darkness, is already a paradoxical situation. Let us not forget that when Jesus died on the cross there was an eclipse of the sun! The most important event in human history occurred in the darkness, at a time when the light of this world was not shining. The light of this world is not sufficient to permit us to see the things that matter! Inside each of us there is our own kind of human light but often this light is unable to comprehend the nature of things. It is when the powers that prevail collapse, when our own powers are humiliated, when human wisdom seems to have reached its limits – it is then that real wisdom begins. How often we gain true wisdom only when something tragic happens. But this requires us to be open, to open ourselves to that which is greater than our humble capacities of understanding.

The sun illuminates what we see and often colours our perspective on things. When Jesus starts to shine like the sun in my life, then I gain a completely different viewpoint on everything.

Happily, the Feast of the Transfiguration falls on a Sunday this year, permitting us to celebrate it in a more marked way (although the second Sunday of Easter also has the reading of the account of the Transfiguration as part of the penitential preparation for Easter). This passage recounts a story of light, of the reception of light. Peter, James and John are taken away by themselves. This place involves climbing to a height, to a place that is not easily accessible. It is beyond the darkness of mundane things. If we wish to see things in a new way, then we need to attain a new perspective on life. How often we perceive completely new characteristics of a thing once we look at it from a new perspective! We suffer from the limitation of seeing things usually from only a single point of view. Jesus helps the disciples to see things from a wholly different angle. They climb a high mountain and are given this new vision. They see beyond his face, which starts to shine like the sun, while his garments also become luminous. The sun and light are parts of creation. But here the sun is no longer an inanimate object but a man. When we wake up in the morning we see things according to the light. Some days the sun is shining, whilst on other days everything is overcast; the day can be miserable or it can be uncomfortably hot. How we see things depends often on the sun, whether it is present or not. We tend to be happier when it is shining. Imagine what happens when the sun becomes a man, when his face becomes the sun. What this makes possible is to perceive my things according to the light of Christ. I see things in a new way. One of the Psalms says, “In your light we see light”. The Psalms, in fact, often have phrases of the sort, “Hide not your face from me. That I may see your face”.

How different our existence is when it is illuminated by the constant light of Christ!

During their development, children find themselves at a point where they are still attached to their mother but are seeking to detach themselves from her. During this phase of exploration, they seek things that are separate from their mother but at the same time they need to be watched over by her. If they see that she is distracted, they look to her until they receive a reassuring smile that she is still being attentive to them. Similarly, under the gaze of Our Lord, we begin to see things with more courage. Under his gaze, the light that permeates what we see emanates from his face. If he is before us in everything that we do, then everything changes radically. Our being is either closed up in solitude or is open to relationship. Jesus never abandons us so it is as if we are forever under the sun, like on a beautiful day where the light continues to shine no matter where we are.

We are called to listen, obey and become a vibrant part of the body of Christ in the world. The Gospel reveals that the nature of God is that of a paternal Father who delights in his Son. He delights in us too. Let us listen to this text and hear the voice of the Father speaking to us, inviting us to enter into union with his Son and enjoy the paternal love of the Father.

The garments of a person in Sacred Scripture represent a person’s mission. The light from Jesus’ garments give us a sense of what we should do and what we should refrain from doing. Thus to have Jesus illuminate our existence in this way entails to be part of his mission. The Church is called to the sublime mission of being the body of Jesus in the world. The three disciples are given access to this other dimension of reality and it is something that they will never forget. They will have to await the fulfilment of this experience in the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus. In this sense, the experience of the Transfiguration is a preparation for what is to come, but they still learn that things can be seen in the light of God. There are a lot of elements hidden in this text. One is the transition from a visual experience to an aural experience. The voice of the Father resounds, “This is my Son, the beloved. Listen to him”. It is interesting that what is heard is a statement about relationship. “This is my Son who is my joy”. This enlightens us to the nature of God, who is a loving Father. We learn that he is paternal joy. When we unite ourselves to Jesus and become one body with him, this word is for us too! We perceive that the Father is filled with joy that we exist! The relationship between the Father and the Son is something that we are invited to enter into as well. It is this happy light that must illuminate our days. This Gospel challenges us to listen, obey and carry into our hearts the way that the Father look on his Son and looks upon all of us: with joy, with the happiness of a proud Father.