“Do
you believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son and Our Lord?” In the baptismal
liturgy, just as during the renewal of our baptismal promises, the minister
asks us this question. The affirmation, our response “I do believe” to this
very important question, points to the capital importance of knowing Christ,
getting to know who He really is, because we cannot place our trust and
confidence in someone whom we do not know. But then getting to know about
Christ doesn’t only mean having a mental outline of his doctrines, in order to
be able to give a ready answer to any exam in catechism class; knowing Christ
means getting to live with him, or better still, allowing his own life to enter
into our own so as to be transformed by it. In a way, the Christian life is a
matter of responding to that question of Jesus Christ, posed to his apostles: Who do you say that I am?
Lent
presents itself as a worthy avenue of getting to know our Lord more, the grace of
God that makes itself manifest in this season of grace give us the light to see
him more clearly, in the same way that the closest apostles of Jesus were able
to see him in a different light, literally. In the Gospel reading this Sunday,
we come to know of Jesus being accompanied by three of his disciples—Peter,
James and John—up to Mt. Tabor. Standing there with them, he is transfigured,
that is to say, there is a change in his appearance: his face, and even his own
clothes, take on a dazzling beauty, such that the evangelist Mark, jotting down
Peter’s memories of that event, describes them as whiter than any fuller could
ever make them. Before them, Jesus seems
to converse with two figures from the religious tradition of Israel: Moses, who
handed over the Law of God to his people, and Elijah, the greatest of Israel’s
prophets. Then suddenly, with that impressive sight before them, they find
themselves within a thick cloud and hear a voice thundering: This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.
Terrified they fall to the ground. With the voice still ringing in their ears,
they look up, and see Jesus, and only Jesus.
The
transfiguration of the Lord on Mt. Tabor was another one of those moments in
the life lived by Jesus with his disciples that allow his followers a glimpse
into his identity. No doubt, some of them may have remembered the voice as the
same one proclaiming Jesus to his Son when he rose over the waters of the
Jordan. The appearance of the Lord, his clothes so white that no fuller on
earth could achieve such a whitening effect, would lead them to conclude that
such splendor was unearthly, divine.
The
experience of the apostles had made them realize that this was no ordinary man
they were dealing with. For indeed, nobody had ever taught with such authority
in their synagogues, such that even wind and the waves obey him; it was unheard
of that anybody could heal a man deaf and mute since birth, who could restore
life to those who lay in death; someone who could even walk on the waters,
something which the psalms themselves attributed only to God.
This
was something that perhaps moved Peter to confess: You are the Christ, the Son of the living God! Aided and moved by
the finger of God, the apostle, a witness to many of the wonders made by Jesus,
made the confession that would transform him into the rock upon which the faith
of the Church rests, the faith upon Jesus Christ, the Son of God (cfr. Mk.
1:1).
But
then the experience that the disciples had with the Lord on Tabor wasn’t enough
with the glory that they had witnessed. It is not enough to be a witness of the
glory of the Son of God. As they were going down, the Lord told them not to
tell the vision to anyone until the Son of Man had risen from the dead
(cfr.Mk.9:9). It is not enough to focus
on the glory of Jesus Christ; it is also precise to know that the only way to
share in that glory is through the royal way of the Cross. This was
something that the apostles at first would not be able to understand. All of
them had that conviction that glory was in store for them, because they had
left everything and shared the life of the Master; that they were to share in
his reign and in his power seemed certain. In fact, they quarreled over it, so
much so, that the Master himself had to give them a lesson in humility in
various moments of their life with Him. But what they didn’t know was that
there was only one way to share in that glory, and that meant sharing in his
passion and death as well.
That
the Lord would have to undergo through the scandal of the Cross was too much
for his disciples; it was to much for them to stomach, the fact that they
descended from the glory of Tabor in order to climb Calvary. But later on,
strengthened by the Paraclete, they would make the announcement of His death
and resurrection the heart of their preaching, as we would hear in the Second
Reading: Christ Jesus it is who died, or
rather, was raised, who also is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes
for us”(Rom. 8:34).
The
faith of the apostles is the basis of the faith that we have. What we know of
Christ Jesus is founded firmly on the testimony of the apostles themselves, one
that continues to resound in our days; it is the same testimony made by the
Church, holy, catholic and apostolic. It
only in the Church that we can come to know who Christ really is. Nowadays
it is easy to construct and image of Christ that is suspiciously attuned to our
own convenience, one that, more often than not, seems to deny the cross. It is
so easy for us to profess in a Christ who is all glorious, but who does not
have the marks of the nails on his hands and feet, and the wound on his side.
In an age where it is easy to personalize things, we can always run the risk of
making a “personalized Christ”. But a Christ who is personalized in this sense,
adjusted to our comfort, to our whims, is a false one, one that cannot
save, one that cannot show us the way to
the glory of eternal life.
May
our contemplation of Christ transfigured in glory strengthen us to follow by
taking our cross and join it to His, knowing that glory is only to be achieved
nobly through sacrifice. Amen.
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