Sermon - Year C

2nd Sunday of Lent

I have been following the war in Ukraine since Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022. I have felt a mix of emotions: anger, sadness, sorrow, helplessness, sympathy for the suffering civilians… Obviously, let’s not lose perspective: how I feel is irrelevant in comparison to the suffering on the ground in Ukraine and among the Ukrainian refugees. Since the invasion started, I’ve been watching, listening to and reading reports, craving some good news, some rays of hope that the war and suffering may stop, that Ukraine shall prevail against the odds and cement its sovereignty and independence. Such hope and belief must be felt so much more strongly by those who are fighting back against the Russian invaders: Ukrainian soldiers, volunteers and civilians. We rightly admire their unbroken spirit, bravery, fortitude, astuteness and resourcefulness. However, we must remember that their canny resistance, although driven by patriotism, hope and belief, is based on solid foundations laid by planning, hard training and acquiring everything that might maintain their astute defiance. That leads us to today’s readings.

In the first one, we saw the patriarch Abram, who was given a promise: “I am the Lord who brought you out from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to possess.” However, in response to that pledge, Abram sought assurances: “How am I to know that I shall possess it?” Such a reaction might seem a bit strange to us; many of us have been taught to trust God blindly, unreservedly, without asking questions or raising any doubts. This kind of “faith” is fanatical but not biblical. God enters into a dialogue with us. He wants us to understand what we are committing to and fulfil our part of the covenant reasonably and deliberately. That’s why God didn’t reply dismissively to Abram’s question but offered him two assurances. The first one was in the form of an ancient ritual of making a pact. Both parties walked between the halved carcasses of sacrificial animals as a symbol of keeping their respective sides of the pact. Should one party fail the pact, they would have to pay for it in blood. The second assurance offered to Abram by God is even more intriguing. At the time, Abram was already quite an elderly man, as was his wife, Sarai. They were childless, and it seemed that their line would expire with their deaths. Yet God told Abram to “look towards heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them. […] So shall your offspring be.” In response, Abram “believed the Lord.” But if we read this passage carefully, we may notice something strange: God told Abram to look up and count the stars in the middle of the day when no stars can be seen because of the sun. He couldn’t see the stars, and consequently, he couldn’t count them even if he wanted to. But Abram knew the stars were there because he had seen them before. Since that day, he remembered the promise every time he looked up and saw the starry skies. That was important because Abram and his wife remained childless for another ten to fifteen years, and they were not getting any younger…

Something similar happened in today’s gospel reading when Jesus took three of his disciples to the summit and gave them a glimpse of His glory, described as a brilliant change of his face and his clothes. However, it wasn’t designed as a spectacular but vainglorious show. To understand the meaning of this episode, we have to go back to a string of events that took place about a week earlier. It all started with the miraculous feeding of the crowds by multiplying scarce resources at Jesus’ disposal. Inevitably, it was met with great enthusiasm and massively raised the political expectations of the crowds, as well as of Jesus’ disciples. The latter must have fervently debated the situation; perhaps they even started making some plans. It reached the point where Jesus had to initiate a discussion with them about himself. At that point, Simon Peter declared Jesus to be the Messiah, then a fatally dangerous politicised term. In response to that, Jesus told them that He would have to “undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.” It was a definition of the messianic role of Jesus that was the total opposite of the one they had imagined. To make it worse, He told them to embrace a similar attitude: “If anyone wants to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:12-27) It must have been such a shock to Jesus’ disciples that about eight days later he took Peter, James and John up the mountain, as we heard in today’s gospel. The whole event is full of symbols instinctively understood by the disciples, symbols referring to the past and connecting it with the present. Moses, the founder of the Law and the Jewish faith; the prophet Elijah represented the prophetic traditions of Israel; the cloud covering the top of the mountain referred to the holy Mount Horeb, where God entered a covenant with Israel… The crux of this event was expressed in these words: “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” Jesus was confirmed as the Messiah, but the disciples had to stick to His, not their vision of what it meant. Armed with such assurances, they managed to go through their darkest hour when Jesus was crucified and, with His death, all their hopes, plans and expectations died too. Though not without problems, they emerged transformed by Jesus’ resurrection, ready to fully embrace His demand: “If anyone wants to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”

Life can be hard, and for many people, it is. In different ways, shapes or forms, we all experience difficulties and challenges. Global political upheavals can understandably occupy headlines and front pages, but in their shadow, there’s more suffering and pain, often hidden from public view. Sometimes, we have to face such challenges as a collective, sometimes personally. The Christian faith offers a different perspective, reaching beyond the superficial and tangible. This perspective can help us to go through the darkest hours of our lives and emerge victorious. Such faith is built on the promise given us by Jesus: “In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!” (John 16:33)


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