Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent Year C (3)

Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent Year C

Theme: Glorious manifestation of God within human history

By: Fr. Jude Chijioke

Homily for Sunday March 13 2022

Readings: Genesis 15.5-12.17-18; Philippians 3.17-4.1; Luke 9: 28-36
“As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him. When the sun had set and it was dark, there appeared a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch, which passed between those pieces. It was on that occasion that the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying: “To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the Great River, the Euphrates.” (Gn 15).
“But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. He will change our lowly body to conform with his glorified body by the power that enables him also to bring all things into subjection to himself.” (Phil 3).
“While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white … Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” (Lk 9).
Following the first fascinating scene painted by an ancient tradition in chapter 15 of Genesis, we could place this Sunday liturgy under the banner of a great biblical symbol, that of the “epiphany”, that is, the glorious revelation-manifestation of God within human history. Also, because the Gospel story of the same name is certainly modeled on the narratives of the apparitions that dot the encounter of the Risen One with his Church. We, following the biblical texts proclaimed, identify a triptych of this revelations with different profiles united by an internal harmony. We begin with the first reading from the chapter 15 of Genesis.
In the looming darkness of the night, Abram performs an archaic rite of the covenant through quartered animals: in Hebrew “to make a pact” literally said “to cut a pact” (krt beri ‘). The contractors passed among the divided animals, wishing the same fate if they violated the pact thus sanctioned. But the great surprise is that impressive “smoking fire pot and a flaming torch” that passed between those quartered pieces. Abram recognizes the sign of God in that fire. It is not for nothing that the Bible describes the fear and terror that took hold of him: dreams and fear are two symbols of the faithful’s entry into the world of mystery and divine.
This is the epiphany of God himself who reveals himself to man as his ally, as a powerful savior, as a source of promise, that is, of hope. The Lord takes on an earthly image, penetrates a tribal rite, expresses himself through a voice, gives rise to an epiphany of light to offer his closeness and his gift: “to your descendants I give this land”. In the wake of this vision, we move on to the second epiphany, the one that is at the center of our triptych, and which has as its protagonist Jesus of Nazareth, who has reached the middle of his public ministry.
Up the Mount Tabor in Palestine the man Jesus “is transfigured”: in Greek the expression literally sounds like “metamorphosis”. Wrapped in light, a divine sign, immersed in glory, venerated by Moses and Elijah, symbols of the Law and Prophet, Christ is “awakened” in his profound and mysterious truth: “This is my chosen Son, listen to him”. It is the same celestial proclamation during his Baptism at the Jordan. The same glorification of the cross and the resurrection.
For a few moments, in front of Peter, James and John caught by a kind of semi-sleep, the last secret of Jesus of Nazareth is revealed. Luke does not fail to let the details that are dear to him fall into the story: the prayer that prepares the transfiguration and the “departure”, literally the “exodus” of the ascension into heaven which, in some way, will be the last transfiguration of Jesus, placed as a seal of the entire third Gospel. The transfiguration on the mountain is a revelation of the perfect presence of God in the midst of men in the flesh of the man Jesus of Nazareth. It is in this line that we can introduce the next transfiguration, that of the Christian.
It is drawn by Paul in the letter to Christians of Philippi, the first European ecclesial community. The Apostle writes:
“Jesus Christ will change our lowly body to conform with his glorified body”. The phrase is clear and contains within itself the great paschal hope: “Christ has risen from the dead, the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep” (1 Cor 15:20). The misery of our mortality, the fragility of this body, similar to the “grass that springs up and flowers in the morning but in the evening withers and falls” (Ps 90, 5-6), the weakness of creatures are destined to be “transfigured” because Christ, entering our flesh, our time and our space, has placed there a seed of the eternal and infinite, destined to grow and blossom.
The three transfigurations, that of God, of the Son and of man, come together in the same meaning: God and man meet, God reveals himself and bends over to draw man to himself in an embrace of love. Tagore, an Indian poet sang:
“You, Lord, will be my eternal companion, take me in your arms. The North Star will shine illuminating the path to Eternity. May the earthly ties dissolve and I come to know without fear the Great Unknown, then finally revealed”.

Fr. Jude Chijioke