By Fr. Glenn Jones:
Have you ever thought about the types of books and movies that you like, and why you like them? We just luuuuuv stories of proverbial ugly ducklings becoming beautiful swans, no more so than when reforming his ways from selfishness to doing good. Or, one who is usually self-absorbed, having witnessed the last straw he could stand of injustice or desperation, finally surrendering to conscience and to the good long buried inside him despite danger or challenge. Who has not been edified by stories of the downtrodden who rise through herculean efforts to become a great philanthropist or champion of the good? We might think of George Washington Carver, born into slavery, and yet against all odds became one of the great and most respected agricultural scientists of the 20th century.
Well, such musings arise as we read in the Catholic Mass this weekend (March 5) the account of the Transfiguration from the Gospel of Matthew (17:1-9). In it, Jesus leads His “inner circle” of Peter, James and John up a mountain (traditionally thought as Mt. Tabor) and is “transfigured” before them—a glimpse of His radiant divine glory allowed to be viewed by them, as well as the appearances of the lawgiver Moses and the proto-prophet Elijah, indicating that in Jesus is the sum of all the Law and the Prophets; in fact, not only the sum of, but also their fulfilment: “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfil them.” (Matthew 5:17)
For Christians, the Transfiguration has much to consider. Jesus’ ascending the mountain recalls the lawgiver Moses’ lone ascent of Mount Horeb to receive the Ten Commandments, as well as Elijah’s ascent of that same prominence. Here, however, Jesus brings apostles—representative of Christian discipleship—the Church, then, now, and future—indicative of the increasing “familiarity” God wants humanity to experience and enjoy. After all, does not St. Paul tell us that “…because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So through God you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir.” (Galatians 4:6-7), and Jesus Himself teaching us to pray in theretofore unprecedented intimacy: “Our Father, who art in Heaven…” (Matthew 6:9)
Another striking analogy with Moses at Horeb is the Trinitarian manifestation at each: the voice of the Father heard at both, the cloud—representative of the Holy Spirit—also at both, and the Word’s presence—written on tablets of stone at Horeb, written in the person of Jesus at Tabor. We think also of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan, where, too, was heard the voice of the Father, Jesus being present as the Word, and the Holy Spirit again descending, here in the representative form of a dove. (Matthew 3:16)
And yet, a critical addition to Jesus’ affirmation by the Father at the Transfiguration is the advice/command: “Listen to Him,” (Matthew 17:4) much like Jesus’ mother Mary had told the servants at the wedding at Cana leading to Jesus’ first public miracle/revelation of self: “Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5) And, finally, perhaps the most striking contrast between Horeb and Tabor is God’s manifestation of awe-inspiring power at the former, but gentleness at the latter … Jesus assuring the terrified apostles: “Rise, and have no fear.” (Matthew 17:7)
Now, Lent, of course, has long been a period set aside for introspection and self-improvement—to discern where we have failed in doing right, and in what areas we need (most urgent) improvement. Like when “flipping” a house, we need periodic maintenance and “flipping” of selves as well, as unceasing pressures and influences of the world often weaken our determination to live well—not materially, but morally and spiritually. So, as when repairing anything in dilapidated condition, one works on the most essential problem first, e.g., the leaky roof before the rotten floor. In most cases this will be a sort of buffing clean those virtues which we have let fade through neglect; in worse cases maybe a whole makeover—a virtual transfiguration of self from the dinginess of worldly values to the luster of divine and eternal values.
How can we gauge this work? We might look to what makes a needy, the downtrodden, the forsaken or lonely person smile; or, conversely, what makes an immoral person frown or curse at a lost ally or opportunity, like the villain Snidely Whiplash in the old cartoon: “Curses; foiled again!” These are pretty good indicators that our actions are starting in the right direction.
St. Paul is so kind as to provide us a partial laundry list of both vice and virtue: “Now the works of the flesh are plain: immorality, impurity, licentiousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy, drunkenness, carousing, and the like … those who do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law.” (Galatians 5:19-23) And, of course, from the source Himself, as Jesus warned: “For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a man …” (Matthew 15:19-20) … not even to mention “Blessed are the poor in spirit…those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness…the merciful…the pure in heart…the peacemakers…those who are persecuted for righteousness sake …” (Matthew 5:3-10).
By the way … the thing about those ugly ducklings mentioned above: a swan lay hidden within the whole time. Likewise, we are all created good, and that seed of goodness lay within each person, no matter how long dormant. All it needs is a bit of watering with grace and cultivation with resolve to blossom. For the image of the divine physician is imprinted upon each of us at our creation, and so His power to heal resides in us as well. We need only be determined to follow His remedy and direction, and call out: “Physician: Heal, not thyself, but me…” and let His divine light shine forth.
Editor’s note: Rev. Glenn Jones is the Vicar General of the Archdiocese of Santa Fe and former pastor of Immaculate Heart of Mary Catholic Church in Los Alamos.
