Saturday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time
ON THE MOUNTAIN OF GLORY
The Lectionary takes today an excerpt from the Letter to the Hebrews that praises the faith of the holy persons from the first pages of the Old Testament.
After he has announced his coming suffering and answered Peter’s protest, Jesus is transfigured before the eyes of his intimate friends among the apostles who will also watch his agony in the garden. This is how he strengthens their faith. Then, he speaks again with them about his approaching passion. Let us ask the Lord in this Eucharist to give us courage in difficult moments.
Reading 1 Heb 11:1-7
The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It’s our handle on what we can’t see. The act of faith is what distinguished our ancestors, set them above the crowd. By faith, we see the world called into existence by God’s word, what we see created by what we don’t see. By an act of faith, Abel brought a better sacrifice to God than Cain. It was what he believed, not what he brought, that made the difference. That’s what God noticed and approved as righteous. After all these centuries, that belief continues to catch our notice. By an act of faith, Enoch skipped death completely. “They looked all over and couldn’t find him because God had taken him.” We know on the basis of reliable testimony that before he was taken “he pleased God.” It’s impossible to please God apart from faith. And why? Because anyone who wants to approach God must believe both that he exists and that he cares enough to respond to those who seek him. By faith, Noah built a ship in the middle of dry land. He was warned about something he couldn’t see, and acted on what he was told. The result? His family was saved. His act of faith drew a sharp line between the evil of the unbelieving world and the rightness of the believing world. As a result, Noah became intimate with God.
Gospel Mk 9:2-13
Six days later, three of them did see it. Jesus took Peter, James, and John and led them up a high mountain. His appearance changed from the inside out, right before their eyes. His clothes shimmered, glistening white, whiter than any bleach could make them. Elijah, along with Moses, came into view, in deep conversation with Jesus. Peter interrupted, “Rabbi, this is a great moment! Let’s build three memorials—one for you, one for Moses, one for Elijah.” He blurted this out without thinking, stunned as they all were by what they were seeing. Just then a light-radiant cloud enveloped them, and from deep in the cloud, a voice: “This is my Son, marked by my love. Listen to him.” The next minute the disciples were looking around, rubbing their eyes, seeing nothing but Jesus, only Jesus. Coming down the mountain, Jesus swore them to secrecy. “Don’t tell a soul what you saw. After the Son of Man rises from the dead, you’re free to talk.” They puzzled over that, wondering what on earth “rising from the dead” meant. Meanwhile they were asking, “Why do the religion scholars say that Elijah has to come first?” Jesus replied, “Elijah does come first and get everything ready for the coming of the Son of Man. They treated this Elijah like dirt, much like they will treat the Son of Man, who will, according to Scripture, suffer terribly and be kicked around contemptibly.”
Prayer
Lord our God,
when your Son was transfigured
you gave eyes of faith to the apostles
to see beyond appearances
and to recognize Jesus as your beloved Son.
This vision gave them courage for the hour of trial.
When our faith and trust
seem to desert us in dark moments,
let your Son take us up to the mountain
and give us a glimpse of his light,
that with fresh courage and generosity,
we may see where he wants us to go.
We ask this through Christ, our Lord.
Mark 9:2-13
This is my Son, the beloved.
Mark narrates the incident of the Transfiguration of Jesus after he makes the first announcement about his death (Mk 8:27-30). This announcement disturbed and upset the minds of the disciples. Peter tries to dissuade him (Mk 8:31-33). For the disciples, the Cross was an obstacle to belief in Jesus. They could not understand why Jesus had to die as a criminal. That is when Jesus reveals his true identity to prepare the apostles to withstand the Passion, the scandal of the Cross.
The apostles thought Jesus was a liberator, a king who wins in battles and is always triumphant. But Jesus’ path is different: his victory is through humiliation, the humiliation of the Cross. However, before it becomes a scandal for his disciples, Jesus reveals to them what happens after the Cross, what awaits them, and all of us: the glory of Heaven.
The disciples could not digest the image of a suffering Messiah. We hear Peter, reacting: ‘This cannot happen’ – because according to the Torah, a person condemned to death is cursed by God.’ When Mark wrote his gospel in the years 68 to 70, the great difficulty, the great impediment to adhering to Christ and the gospel on the part of the Jews was precisely the Cross because the Cross was understood as a curse.
Jesus takes Peter, James, and John with him – he takes them apart to a high mountain. This act of going up the mountain with Jesus still needs to happen in our lives, too, to understand the meaning of suffering in our daily lives. The first step is to leave the plains where all the people are, where you think by the standards of this world. Instead, allow Jesus to be with us; let Jesus take us by the hand and go up onto the mountain.
What kind of mountain is this? It’s not Mount Tabor, of course! Mountains were the abode of God in Israel – and in most religions. Jesus takes his disciples, and today he invites us to go up the mountain with him. Hiking is a favourite sport for many youngsters today. Why not go on hiking with Jesus, of course, on the mountain of prayer, the mountain of intimacy with Jesus? He will help us understand the mystery of the Cross on the mountain. It’s not a material mountain, and it’s the moment when we forget our surroundings to be alone with the Lord in prayer. These moments of intimacy with him are necessary in silence, meditation, and prayer, in which we let ourselves be enveloped in God’s way of seeing the world, people and life.