2nd Sunday of Lent 2021 - Tests of Faith

 
From the moment we are introduced to the character of Abraham in the book of Genesis, his faith is constantly being tested by God.  

The very first time in Scripture God speaks to Abraham, God gives Abraham a test, and a serious one.  God tells Abraham: Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and your father's house to a land that I will show you. “Leave your home, leave your father and kinsfolk, leave everything you have ever known…trust me, I’ll let you know where you are going when you get there.”

That would test anyone’s faith. But I think it’s a pretty relatable one. Because each one of us are asked by God to go to strange people in unknown places. It’s that feeling or sense we get that there is something we should do that is outside of our comfort zone. My neighbor just lost her husband, should I go and comfort her, should I shovel her driveway, volunteer to get her groceries? Or…for the season of Lent…well I allow God to take me deeper this Lent in prayer? Will I go to stations of the cross? Will I go to confession? Will I go to weekday Mass? Will I open up the bible more often or pickup the rosary beads? 

Authentic spiritual growth always involves a test of faith, trusting God to lead us to unknown places. I know that when I’ve failed to trust God, I’ve always been a little sadder for it.

Another test came when Abraham was traveling through the countryside with his nephew, Lot.  The two men were shepherds. And over time their flocks grew larger and larger.  It became clear that the land could not support both flocks of Abraham and Lot. So, Abraham gave Lot a choice.  The whole countryside is open to you. Take your choice of any section of the land you want. If you want the land to the left, then I’ll take the land on the right. If you prefer the land on the right, then I’ll go to the left.

Lot took a long look at the fertile plains of the Jordan Valley. The whole area was well watered, it was ideal for raising a flock.  So, Lot chose for himself the fertile plans of the Jordan leaving to Abraham the land to the west, the rocky, hard, land of Canaan. Canaan was clearly less desirable, especially since, at the time, it was filled with wicked people who would likely terrorize Abraham and steal his sheep.  

This was a test, too.  Would Abraham trust God, even when it seemed like he was receiving an unfair settlement.  It's hard to trust God normally, even harder when there might be some suffering involved or when we have a temptation to tip the scale in our own favor. 

There are about twelve such tests of Abraham in the book of Genesis—the most popular and most difficult test we heard today.  God had promised Abraham numerous posterity—God said that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars, and now he commands Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac.  

Why did God test Abraham’s faith, anyway? Didn’t God know the outcome? Didn’t he know Abraham’s heart? Well, yes, of course. God knows all things. God doesn’t test us to make sure that we really love Him. He tests us because it is by that test, that our faith is fortified and strengthened. God tested Abraham’s faith to increase his faith, that he might become the father of a nation of faithful people.

So, too with us, a Christian who trusts God in small matters—who passes those small tests—is able to be used as God’s instrument in great matters. For example, St. Theresa the Little Flower trusted God in the small obediences of her life—she was obedient to her parents, she was obedient to her religious superiors, she undertook small sufferings and small acts of love for the good of souls, and because of it, she became a doctor of the Church to which millions of people look for guidance in their spiritual lives. 

A good priest friend of mine would often say, “everything prepares us for something else.”  Our little sufferings, those little tests of faith, prepare us, to help others in their trials and sufferings. Again, I think of our Lenten penances. We make these spiritual commitments, we undergo these little spiritual tests, and when we are faithful to them—there is spiritual growth--- something good comes out of our faithfulness to these commitments. We are strengthened in fortitude, we build up our spiritual muscles against the powers of temptation and fear. I am less afraid of suffering for the Gospel because I know what suffering is like, I’ve willingly undergone suffering for the kingdom. 

In the Gospel, we see Peter, James, and John, undergoing a little test of faith—they need to follow the Lord up the mountain. Because they trusted the Lord, they are given this glimpse of the Lord in his transfigured glory. And this prepares them for a bigger test of faith. No?

Soon after witnessing his glorious transfiguration, Peter, James, and John would see Our Lord arrested, beaten, mocked, scourged, crucified, and killed.  They would need to remember the glory of the transfiguration when they witnessed the horror of the cross. 

God uses those transfiguration moments of our lives to prepare us for when His glory is hard to see. St. Ignatius of Loyola called these transfiguration moments, “consolations in the spiritual life.” Hopefully, everyone here has had transfiguration moments in their lives, spiritual consolations: maybe at a beautiful mass, or your wedding, or on a really good retreat or Lenten mission, or kneeling in gratitude after a really good confession, or praying with other prayer warriors: in this powerful moments, like at the transfiguration, God’s goodness is palpable and undeniable. In those mountain top experiences of God, we might even respond like St. Peter today, bursting out “Lord it is good that we are here!”  These powerful experience of God’s closeness, inflame our hearts with love. 

But just like with the apostles, those transfiguration times prepare us for future trials, what St. Ignatius of Loyola called the times of desolation, the desert times, when God’s goodness and presence is hard or impossible to detect. In those times, faith is tested—the crucifixion is encountered—the prospect of suffering—the reality of evil is encountered,  but again, in order that we may grow spiritually and be prepared for God’s work out in the world.

Personally, I think I’m in a mountain top period right now: my Lenten spiritual reading and prayer is nourishing my soul, the burden of my Lenten penances is not particularly onerous, I made a good confession right before lent, I’ve been surprised at how moving praying our stations of the cross has been the last two weeks. 

When we are in the period of consolation, we saver it, we thank God for it—it’s a foretaste of heavenly glory, but always with the knowledge that the consolation is likely going to proceed a period of trial. 

In this trial times—those desolate times—we recall the consolations of the past to give us some strength, we recall that the Lord is testing our faith that it may grow, that we may become more effective instruments of his goodness. 

If you haven’t really gotten serious about Lenten prayer, fasting, and almsgiving, it’s not too late to make some good spiritual commitments. For our God is so good that the transfiguration can be experienced even in times, maybe, particularly in times of penance.

If you’ve already found yourself failing in these matters, it’s not to late to recommit to them. And there’s an experience of God’s goodness, too—in his mercy and his patience.

Through our Lenten observances, may the Lord continue to lead us deeper into the Paschal Mystery for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

2nd Sunday of Lent 2018 - Desert & Mountaintop

Last week, the Lenten liturgy presented us with the Gospel of Jesus' temptations in the desert; we reflect this week on the extraordinary event of the Transfiguration. Pope Benedict once commented, that these two episodes serve as “pillars on which to build the entire structure of Lent until Easter, and indeed, the entire structure of Christian life.”

On one hand, Jesus’ struggle in the desert, shows us how Jesus shares in our humanity, even in our human temptations. He hungered as we hungered, he thirsted as we thirst, and he was tempted, as we are tempted.

Now, his temptations were on a bit different scale than ours. We are not tempted to turn stones into bread, or to use divine power to become a sort of world ruler, like Jesus. But we are tempted according to our situation in life. A 5 year old is tempted to do what he knows is wrong, stealing the toy from his sibling, obstinately refusing the wishes of his parents. A 15 year-old is tempted with 15-year old sins. Spouses and parents are tempted with sins against the patience and kindness and faithfulness for spouse and children which should rule over their hearts. Politicians are tempted to misuse their power and influence for selfish reasons.

But the Lord’s temptations were real, just like ours: to misuse the power, the time, the goods, we have for selfish means. And this struggle against temptation is the great struggle of the Christian life.
But the Lord was prepared for his desert temptations because, over those 40 days, he had fasted and prayed. And so the Lord sets the model for us, his human brothers and sisters, he sets the pattern for our own Lenten journey. We too are to fast from earthly pleasures—snacks, desserts, entertainment, rich food and drink—in order to remember that “man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.”

Some people think that they don’t have to fast during Lent, they’ll just perform extra acts of charity. But that is not consistent with our Catholic Tradition, the scriptures, the prayers, the writings of the saints and the Popes, or the example of Our Lord Himself, who Himself fasted, and taught that his disciples would have to fast, as well. Lenten fasting helps us to deepen our hunger for the “true food”, which is doing the will of God.

The first sin of the human race involved food and grasping for power that didn’t belong to us. And so, If Adam disobeyed the Lord’s command, that he should not eat the forbidden fruit, the believer, through Lenten fasting, submits himself humbly to God. And that humility is a bedrock basic attitude for the Christian life.

So, the Lord going out into the desert, to fast and pray and face his temptations serves as the first pillar of Lent.

The second pillar is the Transfiguration atop Mt. Tabor, which we read every year on the Second Sunday of Lent.

The Mountain Top in scripture is always the place of divine encounter. It is where faithfulness is exercised and God is revealed. On Mount Moriah, Abraham showed his faith, and God revealed that he did not desire human sacrifice, he desires something greater, the total surrender of our hearts. Abraham was to be the father of the holy nation of Israel, a people who offered their whole hearts in surrender to God’s will, God’s plan.

So too, Moses encounters God on Mount Sinai. Moses, who faithfully led the Israelites in their exodus from Egyptian slavery to the promised land, encounters God, who reveals his law, his commandments, that his people may refrain from evil and sin, which are another form of slavery. God desires that his people be free not just from physical slavery, but spiritual slavery as well.

Elijah, too, with whom Jesus converses during His Transfiguration also encountered God on a mountain. On Mt. Carmel, the faithful prophet Elijah confronted the priests of the false Canaanite god Baal, who did demand child-sacrifice by the way. Through faithful Elijah, God reveals he is the One True God, and the futility of the false religions.

So, now Jesus and his closest disciples ascend Mount Tabor. And we see that same pattern again. Jesus, shows himself to be the faithful Son of his Father, willing to undergo suffering, crucifixion, and death. Then God’s glory is revealed. Jesus becomes transfigured, the dazzling glory of his divinity shines forth, and the voice of the Father speaks from heaven, “This is my beloved Son.”

If in the Desert Jesus showed his share in our humanity, on Mount Tabor he shows that through Him, Humanity will share in His divinity. That the cross is not the defeat of God, but rather the royal road of heaven for man; that our sufferings and the fortitude we exert in resisting temptation, when united to Christ leads to life.

So, the Lord’s white garment on Tabor prefigures the robe of his glorious resurrection, as well as the white garment of the baptized. For through baptism, we receive the white garment of the saved; we are united to Christ in his saving death, and are promised that we will rise with Him, in glorious resurrection.

Two pillars of the Lenten season: Desert and Mountaintop. In Lent, we are to be desert travelers with Jesus, fasting with him, turning away from creature comforts and earthly pleasures, to strip away the non-essentials that we may trust all the more in God. And in Lent, we are to be fellow mountain climbers with Christ, seeking the face of God and the will of God in our Lenten prayer, strengthening our Hope in Christ’s promise of resurrection and an eternal Easter.

So every day, we must climb the mountain of prayer. As we heard on Ash Wedneday, each day we are to go to a secluded place, shut the door, and listening to the Word of God. Our prayer will sustain us as we carry our crosses and encounter our hardships and face our temptations, our prayer will bring us the sweetness of God in the bitter times of life, the refreshment of God in the arid times of life, the peace of God in the chaotic times of life. Pope St. Leo the Great said, “when it comes to obeying the commandments or enduring adversity, the words uttered by the Father should always echo in our ears: This is my Son, the beloved, in whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.”

After facing temptation once again in the Garden of Gethsemene, on Good Friday, Jesus, the faithful son, climbs the final mountain, mount Calvary. God’s divine love, God’s love for us sinners, is fully revealed on that mountain, the mount of the cross. May His Divine Life, that radical aversion to sin, that burning desire to do the will of the Father, fill our hearts and lives as well, for the glory of god and salvation of souls.