6 August
The Transfiguration of the Lord (C)
Luke 9:28-36
Jesus took Peter, John and James and went up the mountain to pray. While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him. As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” But he did not know what he was saying. While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen. —The Gospel of the Lord.
The Transfigured face does not want disfigured faces
Romeo Ballan, mccj
To contemplate His face! The alternative Entrance Antiphon today gives us a key to the reading of the Gospel of the Transfiguration and the other Bible and liturgical texts in today’s Mass. The antiphon says: “To seek your face; I seek it, Lord! Do not hide from me!” An answer to this insistent appeal comes from the mountain where Jesus is transfigured in the presence of three chosen disciples: “The aspect of his face was changed, and his clothing became brilliant as lightning” (v.29). The evangelists dwell on the shining splendour that is the exterior sign of the identity of Jesus; indeed, light is the mark of God’s world, of joy and festivity. Here the light is not from outside, but shines forth from the person of Christ. Luke is careful to point out that “Jesus went up the mountain to pray, and while He was praying, his face was changed.” It is from the relationship with the Father that Jesus is dynamically transformed: his total identification with the Father shines in his face.
The path of interior transformation is the same for the apostle as it was for Jesus: prayer which is a listening to and dialoguing with God in faith and in humble abandonment to Him, has the power to transform the life of a Christian and a missionary. Indeed, contemplation or prayer is the experience that founds mission. This was definitely the experience of Peter who clearly says that he was not “repeating cleverly invented myths”, since he was one of the three eye-witnesses, “when we were with him on the holy mountain”. (2Pt.1:16.18). In his confusion and fear (v.33-34), Peter would have wished to avoid the mysterious “exodus” – that strange passing that would be completed in Jerusalem, about which Moses and Elijah spoke to Jesus (v.31). He would have liked to fix in time that splendid vision of the Kingdom (v.33), making it a perpetual “feast of tabernacles” (Zc.14:16-18). Later, having overcome the crisis of the days of the Passion, Peter and his companions found that the experience of intimacy with the Teacher and of listening to the Chosen One of the Father (v.35) took pre-eminence. Thus the apostles were confirmed in their vocation and commitment to the courageous mission of proclamation, right up to martyrdom. “Listen to him!” said the voice from the cloud (v.36). Pope Benedict XVI notes clearly how pressing this command to listen and to trust in the Master, to gaze at and to rediscover the fascinating face of Christ.
The transfigured, fascinating face of Jesus foreshadows what he will be, really and definitively, after Easter. The same promise has been made to us! The true dignity and worth of every single human person, which should never be defaced for any reason, is based firmly on this call to life and to glory. As we know only too well, the Face of Jesus is disfigured in the faces of many human persons, all over the world. At their meeting in Puebla (Mexico) in 1979, the Bishops of Latin America declared: “This situation of extreme and widespread poverty takes on, in real life, very concrete features, in which we must recognise the face of the suffering Christ, of the Lord who calls upon us and challenges us” (n. 31). They continued with a whole list of disfigured faces: the faces of sick, abandoned and exploited children; the faces of confused and exploited youth; the faces of indios and afroamericans who are forced to the edges of society; the faces of rural workers who are both exploited and neglected; the faces of workers who are underpaid, unemployed, sacked; the faces of old people who live on the edge of both family and civil society (cf. Puebla 32-43) The list could go on, with the additions that each of us could make, looking around our own country and society. Each issue is a compelling call to the consciences of those in power in the various nations, and of the missionaries of the Gospel of Jesus. Mission is to give back and to assure dignity and smile to defaced and disfigured faces.
HE WENT UP THE MOUNTAIN TO PRAY
Raniero Cantalamessa
Today’s Gospel narrates the Transfiguration. In his Gospel Luke gives the reason why Jesus “went up the mountain” that day: He went up “to pray.”
It was prayer that made his raiment white as snow and his countenance splendid like the sun. Following the program we announced in our commentary for last Sunday, we would like to take this episode as a point of departure for examining how prayer takes up Christ’s whole life and what this prayer tells us about the profound identity of his person.
Someone has said: “Jesus is a Jewish man who does not regard himself as identical with God. Indeed, one does not pray to God if one is God.” Leaving aside for a moment what Jesus thought about himself, this claim does not take account of an elementary truth: Jesus is also a man and it is as a man that he prays.
God, of course, could not have hunger or thirst either, or suffer, but Jesus hungers and thirsts and suffers because he is human.
On the contrary, it is precisely Jesus’ prayer that allows us to consider the profound mystery of his person. It is a historically attested fact that in prayer Jesus turns to God calling him “Abba,” that is, dear father, my father, papa. This way of addressing God, although not unknown before Jesus’ time, is so characteristic of Jesus that we are obliged to see it as evidence of a singular relationship with the heavenly Father.
Let us listen to this prayer of Jesus reported by Matthew: “At that time Jesus said in reply, ‘I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to mere children. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him'” (Matthew 11:26-27).
Between Father and Son there is, as we see, total reciprocity, “a close, familiar relationship.” In the parable of the murderous tenants of the vineyard this singular relationship of father and son that Jesus has with God again clearly emerges; it is a relationship different from all the others who are called “servants” (cf. Mark 12:1-10).
At this point, however, an objection is made: Why then did Jesus never openly give himself the title “Son of God” during his life, but instead always spoke of himself as the “Son of man”? The reason for this is the same as that for which Jesus never calls himself the Messiah, and when others call him this name he is reticent, or even forbids them to spread it around. Jesus acted in this way because those titles were understood by the people in a very precise way that did not correspond to the idea that Jesus had of his mission.
Many were called “Son of God”: kings, prophets, great men. The Messiah was understood to be the one sent by God who would lead a military fight against Israel’s enemies and rulers. It was in this direction that the demon tried to push Jesus in the desert.
His own disciples did not understand this and continued to dream of a destiny of glory and power. Jesus did not understand himself to be this type of Messiah: “I did not come to be served,” he said, “but to serve.” He did not come to take anyone’s life away, but rather “to give his life in ransom for many.”
Christ first had to suffer and die before it was understood what kind of Messiah he was. It is symptomatic that the only time that Jesus proclaims himself Messiah is when he finds himself in chains before the High Priest, about to be condemned to death, without any other possibility of equivocations. “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed God?” the High Priest asks him, and he answers: “I am!” (Mark 14:61ff).
All the titles and categories with which men, friends and enemies, try to saddle Jesus during his life appear narrow, insufficient. He is a teacher, “but not like other teachers,” because he teaches with authority and in his own name. He is the son of David, but also David’s Lord; he is greater than a prophet, greater than Jonah, greater than Solomon.
The question that the people posed, “Who on earth is he?” expresses well the sentiment that surrounded him like a mystery, something that could not be humanly explained.
The attempt of some scholars and critics to reduce Jesus to a normal Jew of his time, who would not have in fact said or done anything special, is in total contrast to the most certain historical data that we have of him. Such views can only be understood as guided by a prejudicial refusal to admit that something transcendent could appear in human history. These reductive approaches to Jesus cannot explain how such an ordinary being became — as these same critics say — “the man who changed the world.”
Let us now go back to the episode of the Transfiguration to draw from it some practical teaching. Even the Transfiguration is a mystery “for us,” it hits close to home.
For the Bible the body is not an inessential element of human beings; it is an integral part. Man does not have a body, he is a body. The body was created directly by God, assumed by the Word in the incarnation and sanctified by the Spirit in baptism.
The man of the Bible is enchanted by the splendor of the human body: “You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother’s womb. I praise you, so wonderfully you made me” (Psalm 139). The body is destined to share the same glory in eternity as the soul. “Body and soul: either they will be two hands joined in eternal adoration or two wrists bound together in eternal captivity” (Charles Péguy).
Christianity preaches the salvation of the body, not salvation from the body, as the Manichean and Gnostic religions did in antiquity and as some Eastern religions do today.
And what can we say to those who suffer? What can we say to those who witness the deformation of their own bodies or those of loved ones? The most consoling message of the Transfiguration is perhaps for them. “He will transfigure our miserable body, conforming it to his glorious body.”
Bodies humiliated by sickness and death will be ransomed. Even Jesus will be disfigured in the passion, but will rise with a glorious body with which he will live for eternity and, faith tells us, with which he will meet us after death.
Jesus listens to the Law and the Prophets
Benedict XVI
On the Second Sunday of Lent, the Evangelist Luke emphasizes that Jesus went up on the mountain “to pray” (9: 28), together with the Apostles Peter, James and John, and it was “while he prayed” (9: 29) that the luminous mystery of his Transfiguration occurred.
Thus, for the three Apostles, going up the mountain meant being involved in the prayer of Jesus, who frequently withdrew in prayer especially at dawn and after sunset, and sometimes all night.
However, this was the only time, on the mountain, that he chose to reveal to his friends the inner light that filled him when he prayed: his face, we read in the Gospel, shone and his clothes were radiant with the splendour of the divine Person of the Incarnate Word (cf. Lk 9: 29).
There is another detail proper to St Luke’s narrative which deserves emphasis: the mention of the topic of Jesus’ conversation with Moses and Elijah, who appeared beside him when he was transfigured. As the Evangelist tells us, they “talked with him… and spoke of his departure” (in Greek, éxodos), “which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem” (9: 31).
Therefore, Jesus listens to the Law and the Prophets who spoke to him about his death and Resurrection. In his intimate dialogue with the Father, he did not depart from history, he did not flee the mission for which he came into the world, although he knew that to attain glory he would have to pass through the Cross.
On the contrary, Christ enters more deeply into this mission, adhering with all his being to the Father’s will; he shows us that true prayer consists precisely in uniting our will with that of God. For a Christian, therefore, to pray is not to evade reality and the responsibilities it brings but rather, to fully assume them, trusting in the faithful and inexhaustible love of the Lord.
For this reason, the verification of the Transfiguration is, paradoxically, the Agony in Gethsemane (cf. Lk 22: 39-46). With his impending Passion, Jesus was to feel mortal anguish and entrust himself to the divine will; his prayer at that moment would become a pledge of salvation for us all.
Indeed, Christ was to implore the Heavenly Father “to free him from death” and, as the author of the Letter to the Hebrews wrote: “he was heard for his godly fear” (5: 7). The Resurrection is proof that he was heard.
Dear brothers and sisters, prayer is not an accessory or “optional”, but a question of life or death. In fact, only those who pray, in other words, who entrust themselves to God with filial love, can enter eternal life, which is God himself.
During this Season of Lent, let us ask Mary, Mother of the Incarnate Word and Teacher of the spiritual life, to teach us to pray as her Son did so that our life may be transformed by the light of his presence.
Angelus, 7.3.2007
THE MYSTERIOUS REASONS OF THE HEART
Fernando Armellini
This passage is sometimes interpreted as a brief preview of the experience of paradise, granted by Jesus to a group of friends to prepare them to endure the ordeal of his passion and death. One should always be very cautious when approaching a text of the Gospel because, at first glance, it seems to be a chronicle of facts. A closer look often reveals a text of theology drawn up according to the canons of biblical language. The account of the Transfiguration of Jesus reported almost identically by Mark and Matthew is an example.
We will focus on some significant aspects that are found only in Luke’s version. This evangelist alone specifies the reason why Jesus goes up the mountain: he goes to pray (v. 28). Jesus usually spends much time in prayer. He did not know how his life would be; he did not know what destiny was waiting for him; he gradually discovered it through the enlightenment he received during prayer.
It is in one of these intense spiritual moments that Jesus becomes aware that he is called to save people, not through triumph but defeat. Halfway through his Gospel, Luke starts to reveal the first signs of failure: the crowd, at first enthusiastic, abandon Jesus, some take him for a celebrity and some others for a subversive, and his enemies plot to kill him. It is understandable that he now asks himself the way that the Father wants him to tread. For this, ‘he goes up the mountain to pray.’
During prayer, the aspect of his face changes (v. 29), not as the other evangelists narrate. Luke does not speak of the transfiguration but a change of the aspect of his face. This splendor is the sign of the glory that wraps one who is united to God. Even the face of Moses became brilliant when he entered dialogue with the Lord (Ex 34:29-35).
Every authentic encounter with God leaves some visible traces on the face of the person. After the celebration of the Word lived intensely, we return to our houses more joyful, more serene, smiling, and willing to be tolerant, understanding, and generous. Even our faces are relaxed and seem to emit light.
The light on Jesus’ face indicates that, during prayer, he understood and owned the Father’s plan. He understood that his sacrifice would not be complete with defeat but in the glory of the resurrection. During this spiritual experience of Jesus, two characters, Moses and Elijah (vv. 30-31), appear. They are symbols of the Law and the Prophets; they represent all the Old Testament. All holy books of Israel have the purpose of leading to a dialog with Jesus; they are oriented toward him. Without Jesus, the Old Testament is incomprehensible, and Jesus, without the Old Testament, remains a mystery. On Easter day, to make his disciples understand the meaning of his death and resurrection, he will refer to the Old Testament: “Then starting with Moses, and going through the prophets, he explained to them everything in the Scriptures concerning himself” (Lk 24:27).
Mark and Matthew also introduce Moses and Elijah, but only Luke records the theme of their dialog with Jesus: they spoke of his exodus, his passage from this world to the Father. The light that revealed to him his mission came from the Word of God in the Old Testament. There, he discovered that the Messiah was not destined to triumph but to defeat; that he must suffer much, be humiliated and rejected by people, as is said of the servant of the Lord (Is 53).
The three disciples: Peter, James, and John, understand nothing of what was happening (vv. 32-33). They were sleepy. Having climbed up the mountain, they were tired, and the scene occurs in the night (v. 37). Let us take note of a significant aspect: in moments that recall the passion and death of Jesus, these three disciples are found sleepy. In the garden of Olives, they sleep (Mk 14:32-42; Lk 22:45). It is strange that in crucial moments, their eyes are heavy.
Biblical authors often symbolically used sleep. Paul, for example, writes to the Romans: “This is the time to awake … the night is almost over and the day is at hand” (Rom 13:11-12). With this pressing reminder, he likes to shake the Christians from spiritual lethargy; he invites them to open their mind to understand and assimilate the moral proposal of the Gospel. In the passage, sleep indicates the inability of the disciples to understand and accept that the Messiah of God must pass through death to enter his glory. When Jesus performed miracles, when the crowd acclaimed him, the three apostles were all awake. But when he starts talking about the gift of life, the necessity to occupy the last place and become servants, they do not like to understand; slowly, they close their eyes and start to sleep.
The three tents are the most difficult detail to explain (the evangelist notes that not even Peter understood precisely what he was talking about). The one who builds a tent wants to fix his abode in a place and not move around, at least for a time. Jesus, instead, is always on the go. He must fulfill an ‘exodus’—today’s Gospel says—and the disciples are invited to follow him. The three tents perhaps indicate the desire of Peter to stay put into perpetuating the joy he experienced in a moment of intense prayer with the Master.
To better understand it, we can relate to our experience: after a long dialog with the Lord, we do not like to return to our daily lives. The concrete problems and uncertainties that we must confront cause us fear. We know that listening to the Word of God is not all. We cannot spend our whole life in church or retreat houses. It is necessary to get out to encounter and serve our brothers and sisters, help those who suffer and be close to anyone who needs love. After having discovered the way to go in prayer, we need to put ourselves on the way with Jesus, who goes up to Jerusalem to offer his life.
According to the biblical language, the cloud (v. 34), going down from the top of the mountain indicates the invisible presence of God. Above all, in Exodus, the call to the cloud is very frequent. Moses enters the cloud that covers the mountain (Ex 24:15-18), the cloud goes down on the tent of meeting, and Moses cannot enter because the Lord is present (Ex 40:34-35).
Peter, James, and John were therefore introduced to the glory of God, and there they had an illumination that made them understand the way of the Teacher: the conflict with the religious powers, the persecution, passion, and death. They become aware that their destiny will be the same, and they are afraid. From the cloud, a voice comes out (v. 35). It is God’s interpretation of all that will happen to Jesus. For people, it will be a defeat; however, for the Father, Jesus is “the elect,” the faithful servant whom he favors.
God is pleased in the one who follows his word. Listen to him—the voice from heaven says—even when he seems to propose complicated paths, narrow roads, paradoxical and humanly absurd choices. At the end of the episode (v. 36), Jesus is there alone. Moses and Elijah disappear. This shows the function of the Old Testament: to bring it all to Jesus and to make people understand Jesus. In the end, the eyes must remain focused on him.
It is not easy to believe in the revelation of Jesus and to accept his proposal of life. It is not easy to follow him in his ‘exodus.’ To trust him is very risky. He indeed promises a glorious future, but our experience here and now is rejection and suffering. The seed thrown on the ground is destined to produce much fruit, but today, the seed must die to itself. When and how will we assimilate this ‘wisdom of God’ so contrary to human logic?
The answer comes from the annotation, apparently superfluous, at the beginning of today’s Gospel. According to Luke, eight days after the episode of the “transfiguration,” Jesus dramatically announced his passion, death, and resurrection, then eight days after that, he proclaimed the conditions for his discipleship: “renounce yourself and take up your cross every day” (Lk 9:22-27).
The eighth day for Christians has an exact meaning. It is the day after the Sabbath, the day of the Lord, in which the community meets to listen to the Word and break the bread (Lk 24:13). Here is what Luke means with the call to the eighth day: that every Sunday, the disciples who gather to celebrate the Eucharist go up the mountain; they encounter the face of the transfigured Lord, the Risen One; they verify in faith that his “exodus” is not over with death, and they hear again the voice from heaven that invites them: Listen to him!
Peter, James, and John coming down from the mountain, “kept this to themselves at the time, telling no one of anything they had seen” (v. 36). They could not speak about what they did not understand; the exodus of Jesus was not yet fulfilled. We, today, coming out of our churches instead, can announce to all what our faith made us discover: the one who gives life for love enters in the glory of God.
