In St. Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians,
he says, “All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are
being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who
is the Spirit.” This passage came to mind as I read today’s gospel of the
Transfiguration and pondered the events that led up to it at Caesarea Philippi.
I wondered, how does the Spirit bring about our inner transformation as He did
with the apostles? I think it must have to do with at least three factors: our
free choices; the mystery of suffering; and the revelation of the Holy Trinity.
Let us begin with our free choices.
Six days before the Transfiguration, after asking Peter and
the apostles what people thought about Him, Our Lord turned the question to
them: “But who do you say that I am?” Peter, inspired by the Spirit, said, “You
are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” He spoke from the depths of his
conviction, not fully enlightened perhaps, but he took a stand and declared
what he really thought. That is all Jesus wanted. He could work with that, and
His Spirit could move Peter further down the road of transformation
accordingly.
This is a perfect question for us this Lent, and the Spirit
urges us to answer it: Who do we say that Jesus is? What is our conviction?
What is our faith? When Jesus asks the question, He leaves Himself vulnerable,
knowing we could reject him. But He also knows that it is our dignity to answer
freely and in that answer to be transformed. So He waits patiently somewhat
like the Bridegroom in the Song of Songs who said, “My dove in the clefts of
the rock, in the secret recesses of the cliff, let me see your face, let me
hear your voice, for your voice is sweet and you are lovely.”
Immediately after Peter’s confession of faith comes the
next opportunity for transformation – Our Lord predicts that He “must…suffer
greatly from the elders, the chief priests and the scribes.” Peter quickly
rejects the idea – God forbid that Peter’s Christ should be a Christ crucified!
Faced with this divine mystery of suffering, I think Peter
experienced a kind of inner panic, a little like that of Moses at the burning
bush when Moses “…hid his face, because he did not want to look at God.” Moses
hid his face because of the awe of it all, but also because he did not want to
be sent to Pharaoh. He tried to talk God out of it. Peter hid his face,
metaphorically, because he did not want to look at the face of a suffering God
or, perhaps, face the possibility that suffering that might be his by
association. We can either hide our face from this mystery of suffering, or
with the grace of the Spirit accept this reality about our God and ourselves
and be transformed.
Finally, we come to the Mount of Transfiguration
which, in a way, Peter could not have approached without his earlier
transformations. Here the Spirit allows the “light of the knowledge of the
glory of God” to shine upon Peter. Peter hears the Father proclaim His Son’s
beloved-ness; he sees the Son in the unity of the Spirit radiating the goodness
and glory of His Father; and he marvels at the cloud of glory by which the
Spirit envelopes the whole. This knowledge of the Trinity both integrates all
Peter’s other transformations and impels him forward to another and deeper
cycle of transformation.
Now think a moment about the Church – what humility she
must have when approaching this glorious sight of the Transfiguration, what
holy fear. I wonder if the Church must first be like Rebekah who, when seeing
Isaac at a distance, veiled her face out of the deepest respect. This veil the
Spirit will lift when the Church enters into the presence of the Holy Trinity.
Then in the boldness of childlike and bridal confidence, she will gaze on the
Lord with face unveiled and be transformed from glory to glory.
Father Vincent's homily for the Second Sunday of Lent, 2014.
