2018/02/18 & 25 — 1st & 2nd Sundays of Lent — Year B

First Sunday – February 18

First Reading — Genesis 9:8-15
Second Reading — 1 Peter 3:18-22
Gospel — Mark 1:12-15

Every year, the gospel for the first Sunday of Lent tells of Jesus' forty days of fasting in the desert and  his temptations. The current year, Year B, features the Gospel of Mark, and Mark's account gives none of the details of the temptations we hear of in Matthew and Luke. This gives a chance for us to hear a bit of the context going forward, namely, the beginning of his public ministry: proclaiming the gospel of the Kingdom of God. The verses preceding this selection tell of Jesus' baptism by John, and that provides a connection to the second reading, which in turn connects with the first.

The three "synoptic gospels" — Matthew, Mark, and Luke — record the same sequence of events: Jesus is baptized, anointed by the Holy Spirit, and proclaimed God's son; Jesus undertakes a 40 day period of fasting and prayer in the desert, during which he undergoes temptation; Jesus begins his public ministry. (John gives us the baptism and inauguration of the ministry, but doesn't mention the desert.) This has significance for our lives. Most obviously, we have entered on a period of forty days of prayer and fasting (and almsgiving). It is a time of preparation for Easter, which is the time for adults to be baptized and begin their ministry as members of the Body of Christ, proclaiming the Kingdom of God. For those already baptized, Easter is a time for renewing our baptismal commitment to proclaim God's Kingdom by our lives, in our circumstances; and Lent is when we prepare to reinvigorate our lives of witness to the gospel, overcoming temptation and opening ourselves to the Holy Spirit through our Lenten practices of a more intense living of lives based on faith.

In the second reading, Peter sets baptism in the context of Jesus' death and resurrection, the saving act which is the culmination of the ministry which began after his baptism. Baptism incorporates the believer into this saving act of Jesus, in effect making him or her a sharer in that act, a recipient of its benefits. The water of the flood destroyed the sinfulness of the world in the time of Noah, just as baptism takes away our sins and puts us in a covenant relationship with God.


Second Sunday – February 25

First Reading — Genesis 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-18
Second Reading — Romans 8:31b-34
Gospel — Mark 9:2-10

The gospel for the second Sunday of Lent presents an account of the transfiguration of Jesus — this year from Mark. First though, we hear the harrowing account of Abraham and the uncompleted sacrifice of Isaac. (For the people of ancient Israel, this was at least an implicit rejection of the practice of human sacrifice.) Some of the detail* is omitted from the reading, to concentrate on the essentials. We hear of Abraham's obedience to God, and God's promises in response to Abraham's faithfulness. God spares Abraham's son, but, as Paul points out, he does not spare his own son. That sacrifice acquits us of our sins.
* Isaac carries the wood for the sacrifice, making him a "type," a prefiguring, of Jesus, who carried the wood of his cross to the hill of sacrifice. In response to Isaac's question, "Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?" Abraham promises that God will provide, which he dies.

Paul tells us that Jesus not only died but was raised for us and is at the right hand of the Father. The transfiguration gives the apostles a vision of Jesus in the glory of his resurrection. The presence of Moses and Elijah — representing the Law and the Prophets — shows the continuity of the revelation of the Old and New Testaments. Jesus fulfills that revelation.

The voice from the cloud repeats the proclamation that was made at Jesus' baptism: he is God's son. This resonates with the baptismal facet of Lent. As a result of our baptism, we have the promise of a like glory when we are resurrected. The Jews of Jesus' time knew that there would be a resurrection at the end of time, but they didn't expect anybody to rise before that general resurrection. Jesus' resurrection promises ours.

Our baptism makes us spiritual descendants of Abraham, so that in us, along with the Jews, "all the nations of the earth shall find blessing."

2017/03/12 — 2nd Sunday of Lent — Year A

In the first reading and the gospel we can discern a pattern of call and action which applies to us all, as shown by the second reading.


The gospel — Matthew 17:1-9 — gives us Matthew's account of the Transfiguration. In years B and C we get Mark's and Luke's telling. Briefly, the change in Jesus' appearance gives a preview of his glorification after his resurrection, which is alluded to in the final verse of the pericope. The presence of Moses and Elijah can be seen as illustrating that the law (Moses) and the prophets (Elijah) bear witness to, point to Jesus. The voice from the cloud repeats the words from heaven at Jesus' baptism— he is God's beloved Son — validating Jesus' teaching and calling us to obedience. The apostles' reaction of fear is natural enough.

We have all, no doubt experienced moments in which we have thought, "I wish this could last forever." For Peter and the others, for whom he is speaking, this is such a moment: it's good to be here; three tents can make it last. But after the voice comes from the cloud, Jesus is alone. The moment has passed. They must rise and be on their way with him. As at many other points, he tells them not to be afraid. This was one of Pope St. John Paul II's favorite lines. Whether it's after the miraculous catch of fish, at his appearance in the upper room after his resurrection, the angelic annunciation appearance of the angel to Mary and Joseph, the hearers have a mission to which they must confidently go. Here, the apostles can't be content to know Jesus' glory. They must accompany him to Good Friday and after Easter fulfill the Great Commission to go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel.


The first reading — Genesis 12: 1-4a — presents the call of Abram (whose name later becomes Abraham). He is content in his home, with his relatives nearby. But God calls him from the condition which he could have enjoyed for the rest of his life. He must leave it behind and go to an unforeseeable future in an unknown country. In doing so, he will become the ancestor of a great nation which God will bless and which will itself bring blessing to the whole world. Abram obeys and becomes the ancestor of the Jews and the father in faith of Christians.

The responsorial psalm — verses of Psalm 33 with a refrain from verse 22 — encourages us to rely on God's promised care.


The second reading — 2 Timothy 1:8b-10 — opens with an expression of the call that comes to all of us: "Bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God." More generally, we have been saved and called to holiness through God's eternal plan brought to completion by Jesus. We can read "the appearance of out savior Christ Jesus" in two ways. Jesus appeared in his Incarnation and through is life here on Earth. In his appearance at the transfiguration Jesus manifests the glory of our immortality as well as his own.

We are called to holiness of life: living as God calls us. We do not know just what that will entail. Young people choose to pursue a career of one sort or another. Often it doesn't turn out as expected. Older people may be called simply to continue on the path they are already following. Occasionally, some find themselves called to take an entirely new direction in their lives. The future may seem clearer for some of us, but it's never entirely certain. There are always surprises, great or small. What is important, though is that we seek to do what God calls us to at every stage and in every moment. This will involve hardship, great or small. None of us is promised a perfectly happy life. But we keep alive the knowledge of the glory which will be ours after our resurrection, and this faith sustains us, as it sustained Abram and the apostles.

2016/02/21 — 2nd Sunday of Lent — Year C

W. S. Gilbert begins one of the songs in HMS Pinafore with the line, “Things are seldom what they seem.”

Gilbert was writing almost 150 years ago, in a class-conscious England and the singer is hinting that the captain of the Pinafore belongs by birth to a lower class than that of a high-ranking naval officer. But even if social class is not as important to us in America today as it was to the British of Queen Victoria’s day, we can certainly understand that appearances can fail to tell the whole truth about someone.



Jesus’ disciples knew him. They knew him as a great teacher, miracle worker, and man of prayer. The events of today’s gospel reading — Luke 9:28b-36 — occurred, Luke tells us, about a week after Peter professed faith in Jesus as Messiah. Now, as he prays — as he is in conversation with the Father — Peter, James, and John see a truth about him that they hadn’t known: his glorious splendor. It should help them deal with his agony in the Garden of Gethsemane and with his crucifixion and death.

The Transfiguration showed the apostles that Jesus was not what he seemed. He was much more than the great man they already knew. And how about us? Nobody knows us fully, so we may be more or less than we seem to others. Are we less than we seem? Are we more than we seem? Hopefully, like Jesus, we’re more than we seem. On Ash Wednesday we heard Jesus’ warning not to do good things just to gain admiration, but to pray, fast, and give alms without calling attention to ourselves. If we do good deeds in order to win praise, we are among the people Jesus calls hypocrites, and we are less than we see. But if we don't care about being admired for what we do, other people may know that we are good people because our outward conduct will give good example, which it should, but they will not all know the full extent of it, which is fine. Often at wakes and funerals, I hear things about a person which show real goodness, but which were done without great publicity. They did the good they did, but didn’t care if everybody knew it or not. That’s part of what I mean by being more than we seem.

Living in God’s promise to us is another part of being more than we seem.

The first reading —Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18 — tells of  God's covenant promise to Abram/Abraham. Last week we heard of how the descendants of Abraham went down to Egypt few in number, became a great nation, were liberated by God from the oppression of the Egyptians, and finally took possession of the Promised land, centuries after God made the covenant with Abraham. Meanwhile they were more than they seemed, in the sense that they were the heirs to the promised land. But they were growing into it.

St. Paul tells us in the second reading — Philippians 3:17-4:1 — that Jesus will transform our bodies into copies of his glorified body. We haven't arrived there yet, but we are growing into it, if we let sanctifying grace work invisibly in our spirits. Living in that promise is part of being more than we seem. Just as Abram had to trust that God would keep his promise, we have to trust God’s promise to us. Abram had his vision. We have the Transfiguration and the Resurrection which it foreshadowed.

        During Lent we get ready to celebrate Easter. More accurately, we strive to become more than we seem, by turning away from the evil which always tries to creep into our lives, to grow in love of God and neighbor by prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. The more successful we are, which means the more we accept and cooperate with the graces God offers us this Lent — the more we listen to the whispered suggestions of the Holy Spirit — the more Easter will be a season of joy.

So as we continue to slog through these forty days, we can always recalibrate, reset our spiritual GPS if necessary. I know as I look back on the first week and a half of Lent, I get the feeling there should be more to it: I should be doing more. We can all ask ourselves: What’s working? What isn’t? Should we be trying harder? Were we completely unrealistic in some of our plans? Should we add something? If it’s going well, of course that’s fine. Basically, we all should arrive at Easter and be more than we seem, closer to the Transfiguration that is promised us, filled with joy.