Sunday, March 12, 2006
Of Things Divine: I Have Seen the Glory!, Lent 2, Cycle B
Journeys to mountaintops figure in both the reading from Genesis and the Gospel of Mark this weekend.
For a guy who spent his youth on the flat farmland of Central Ohio, mountains were the images presented in geography books or on postcards. I didn’t see my first mountain until September 1969 when I arrived in Knoxville and my parents and I took a drive through the Smokies. I was amazed at how long it took to travel those 19 miles as the crow flies because of the ascending and descending. After all, it was only “this far” on the map.
Twenty-one years later I saw my first purple mountains in all their majesty as I crossed the Rockies on a return trip from California. I took my dogs Lonnie and Mama for a ride up Pike’s Peak. Although the view was fantastic as I gazed out over the amber waves of grain to the east, the altitude had me short of breath and nauseous. I couldn’t wait to get back down closer to sea level.
Abraham climbed a mountain with a heavy heart only to return to the realization that eh would be blessed beyond belief. Peter, James and John, too, were changed by their journey up the mountain with Jesus. They experienced a glimpse of salvation and would never again be the same.
It is the goal of every Christian to reach the “mountaintop.” It is there that we see more clearly what God is all about, what is expected of us as believers. Martin Luther King, Jr., cried out from the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, “I have been to the mountaintop! I have seen the glory!” It was a declaration of vision and purpose that radiated resolve to accomplish that which had not yet been accomplished.
In this season of Lent, we find ourselves on a journey to a spiritual mountaintop. For those who will finally rest in the bosom of Holy Mother Church at Easter by making a profession of faith or being baptized, the mountain is clearly defined. They have been climbing it for nearly a year. The rest of us who know the glory of the Resurrection awaits might very well be feeling a little better about ourselves as we have incorporated the Lenten disciplines of prayer, fasting and almsgiving into our lives.
But all of us must be careful not to get too comfortable or to feel too good about ourselves. It is still early in Lent, and many of us are already breaking our penitential resolutions. To see the fullness of our faith we will have to climb many mountains in our lifetimes. And just when we think we have reached the pinnacle of faith something happens to shatter our security. It may be a catastrophe that occurs in our life. Or, a disappointment comes our way that makes us question our value at work, at home or even in life. Sometimes, just when we feel closest to God and we think our prayerlife is next to perfect God seems to withdraw from us and leave us on our own with a feeling that we have fallen from the mountaintop to the depths of Death Valley.
The mountaintops that we experience in faith and life are not meant just to lift us up. They also make our lives a little more difficult because with the vision of glory comes the challenge to perfection. These mountaintop encounters with God remind us that we can never be satisfied with where we are in our relationship with God.
Just yesterday morning in the Gospel, Jesus told his disciples to be “perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Although perfection is unachievable for mere mortals, it nonetheless remains a goal for anyone who desires to share in the depth of God’s loves as fully as possible. We are called to perfection. We are called to holiness. Neither is possible without faith in God’s love, His mercy and His compassion for us. Although any parent or child pondering the story of Abraham would be mystified by his willingness to sacrifice his own son, it is the faith that Abraham that has in God’s ways that is the focal point. It is the awakening of faith in the three apostles that begins to open their eyes to the meaning of the resurrection that leads Peter to cry out, “It is good for us to be here.”
Mt friends, it is good for us to be here this morning. Every celebration of Mass is a mountaintop on which we can see the glory of God revealed. Like Abraham, we place our very lives on this altar to be used by God for his glory. And he is glorified. In these sacred mysteries, God is made present to us really and substantially. Here we have a foretaste of the Heavenly Banquet and are fortified for the next leg of our journey.
There are no tents to be erected. We have to move on. We descend from this mountaintop knowing that we are called to engage the world with what we have seen of God today. It is, after all, in our daily lives that our faith is most tested – by practice of Godly patience, resisting temptation, dealing with needy children and spouses and co-workers, building up the community of saints, assisting the poor, healing those who need healing of any kind, and discovering the glory God in the most unexpected moments of life.
It is those spontaneous encounters with divine revelation that remind us of the glory to come. We trust, therefore, that God will ask of us only what he knows we can accomplish for His glory: nothing more, nothing less. Then, one day, God will stand us on His mountaintop in the radiance of the resurrection, and with all the saints we will cry out with Easter joy: I have seen the glory!
For a guy who spent his youth on the flat farmland of Central Ohio, mountains were the images presented in geography books or on postcards. I didn’t see my first mountain until September 1969 when I arrived in Knoxville and my parents and I took a drive through the Smokies. I was amazed at how long it took to travel those 19 miles as the crow flies because of the ascending and descending. After all, it was only “this far” on the map.
Twenty-one years later I saw my first purple mountains in all their majesty as I crossed the Rockies on a return trip from California. I took my dogs Lonnie and Mama for a ride up Pike’s Peak. Although the view was fantastic as I gazed out over the amber waves of grain to the east, the altitude had me short of breath and nauseous. I couldn’t wait to get back down closer to sea level.
Abraham climbed a mountain with a heavy heart only to return to the realization that eh would be blessed beyond belief. Peter, James and John, too, were changed by their journey up the mountain with Jesus. They experienced a glimpse of salvation and would never again be the same.
It is the goal of every Christian to reach the “mountaintop.” It is there that we see more clearly what God is all about, what is expected of us as believers. Martin Luther King, Jr., cried out from the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, “I have been to the mountaintop! I have seen the glory!” It was a declaration of vision and purpose that radiated resolve to accomplish that which had not yet been accomplished.
In this season of Lent, we find ourselves on a journey to a spiritual mountaintop. For those who will finally rest in the bosom of Holy Mother Church at Easter by making a profession of faith or being baptized, the mountain is clearly defined. They have been climbing it for nearly a year. The rest of us who know the glory of the Resurrection awaits might very well be feeling a little better about ourselves as we have incorporated the Lenten disciplines of prayer, fasting and almsgiving into our lives.
But all of us must be careful not to get too comfortable or to feel too good about ourselves. It is still early in Lent, and many of us are already breaking our penitential resolutions. To see the fullness of our faith we will have to climb many mountains in our lifetimes. And just when we think we have reached the pinnacle of faith something happens to shatter our security. It may be a catastrophe that occurs in our life. Or, a disappointment comes our way that makes us question our value at work, at home or even in life. Sometimes, just when we feel closest to God and we think our prayerlife is next to perfect God seems to withdraw from us and leave us on our own with a feeling that we have fallen from the mountaintop to the depths of Death Valley.
The mountaintops that we experience in faith and life are not meant just to lift us up. They also make our lives a little more difficult because with the vision of glory comes the challenge to perfection. These mountaintop encounters with God remind us that we can never be satisfied with where we are in our relationship with God.
Just yesterday morning in the Gospel, Jesus told his disciples to be “perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Although perfection is unachievable for mere mortals, it nonetheless remains a goal for anyone who desires to share in the depth of God’s loves as fully as possible. We are called to perfection. We are called to holiness. Neither is possible without faith in God’s love, His mercy and His compassion for us. Although any parent or child pondering the story of Abraham would be mystified by his willingness to sacrifice his own son, it is the faith that Abraham that has in God’s ways that is the focal point. It is the awakening of faith in the three apostles that begins to open their eyes to the meaning of the resurrection that leads Peter to cry out, “It is good for us to be here.”
Mt friends, it is good for us to be here this morning. Every celebration of Mass is a mountaintop on which we can see the glory of God revealed. Like Abraham, we place our very lives on this altar to be used by God for his glory. And he is glorified. In these sacred mysteries, God is made present to us really and substantially. Here we have a foretaste of the Heavenly Banquet and are fortified for the next leg of our journey.
There are no tents to be erected. We have to move on. We descend from this mountaintop knowing that we are called to engage the world with what we have seen of God today. It is, after all, in our daily lives that our faith is most tested – by practice of Godly patience, resisting temptation, dealing with needy children and spouses and co-workers, building up the community of saints, assisting the poor, healing those who need healing of any kind, and discovering the glory God in the most unexpected moments of life.
It is those spontaneous encounters with divine revelation that remind us of the glory to come. We trust, therefore, that God will ask of us only what he knows we can accomplish for His glory: nothing more, nothing less. Then, one day, God will stand us on His mountaintop in the radiance of the resurrection, and with all the saints we will cry out with Easter joy: I have seen the glory!
