(Second Sunday of Lent (C): This homily was given on March 17, 2019 at
St. James Chapel, Charlestown, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18; Psalm 27:1-14; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9: 28b-36.)
[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Second Sunday of Lent 2019]
Someone sent me this story a while back, via e-mail:
Two travelling angels
stopped to spend the night in the home of a very wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the
angels stay in the guestroom of their mansion.
Instead, the two heavenly visitors were given a small space in the cold,
damp basement of the house. As they were
making up their beds on the hard floor, the older angel spotted a hole in the
wall and proceeded to repair it. When
the younger angel asked the older one why he did it, he replied, “Things aren’t
always what they seem.”
The
next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor but very
hospitable farmer and his wife. After
sharing the little food they had, the couple allowed the angels to sleep in
their bed so that they would get a good night’s rest. When the sun came up the next morning, the
angels found the farmer and his wife in tears: their one cow, whose milk had
been their only source of income, lay dead in the field.
The younger angel was infuriated, and later that day he said to the
older one, “How could you have let this happen?
The first family was unkind and had everything, yet you helped
them! The second family had very
little—although they were willing to share whatever they did have—and you allowed
their cow to die!”
“Things
aren’t always what they seem,” the older angel answered. “When we stayed in the basement of the
mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in the wall, which had been left there
many years ago. Since the man and his
family were so obsessed with money and unwilling to share their good fortune, I
sealed the wall so they wouldn’t find the gold.
Then, last night, as we slept in the farmer’s bed, the angel of death
came for his wife. I gave him the cow
instead. Things aren’t always what they
seem.”
I’m not so sure that’s how God’s angels would actually deal
with such situations, but—theological accuracy aside—the main point of the
story is definitely a valid one: things
aren’t always what they seem.
This is a truth which stands behind the Gospel passage we
heard a few moments ago—that famous text from Luke 9. In fact, I would call it one of the crucial
lessons that Jesus wanted Peter, James and John to learn prior to the events of
the first Holy Week. And so—to drive
home the point in powerful and vivid manner—our Lord took these men up Mount
Tabor one day, and gave them a glimpse of his heavenly glory: he was
transfigured before their eyes, and seen in conversation with Moses and
Elijah. After the experience was over, I
can imagine Jesus saying to these 3 apostles, as they were descending the
mountain together: “Remember, gentlemen, things aren’t always what they
seem! I know in many ways I may seem to be an ordinary man: I eat, I
sleep, I laugh and I cry just like you all do.
But the fact is, I am NOT an ordinary man. You just saw that truth attested to in a
powerful way on this mountain. Never
forget it!”
Here Jesus was training his apostles to face the
disappointments and trials of Holy Thursday and Good Friday. In order to deal with the tragedy of those
days successfully, these men needed to understand that things were not always
as they seemed to be when it came to Jesus.
Because—let’s face it—on Holy Thursday and Good Friday Jesus and his
mission seemed to be finished! When he was hanging on that Cross, for
example, Jesus seemed to be guilty
and full of sin; he seemed to be a
criminal; he seemed to be a total
failure; he seemed to be powerless;
he seemed to have been abandoned by
his heavenly Father. And yet, in reality,
the exact opposite was true: he was not guilty, he was innocent—completely
innocent!; he wasn’t a criminal, but he was dying for criminals; he seemed to be a failure, but he was in fact
accomplishing the mission the heavenly Father had given him—and he was doing it
to perfection; he seemed to be powerless, but this was actually the moment when
he demonstrated his greatest power by atoning for the sins of the whole world;
it seemed that his heavenly Father had abandoned him, but in truth his Father was
right there, ready to receive his spirit after his perfect act of sacrifice and
atonement.
To the naked eye Jesus seemed to be finished, but in 3
short days he would rise from the dead and begin to give hope to the entire
human race—the hope of sharing eternally in the glory of his resurrection.
Things are not always what they seem!
We, like the apostles, need to learn this crucial
lesson—because it applies to so many dimensions of our lives.
For example, when we suffer, it may seem like God has abandoned us—but he hasn’t! Suffering is not a sign that God doesn’t love
us anymore. The truth is, suffering can
actually bring us into close union with the Lord. As Mother Teresa once put it, “Suffering is a
gift of God—a gift that makes us most Christ-like. People must not accept suffering as a
punishment.”
On the other hand, those who seem to be healthy and
peaceful on the outside, may in fact be gravely ill on the inside. In the mid-19th century, a man in
this condition came to the town of Ars in France to do some duck hunting, and
to catch a glimpse of Fr. John Vianney, who was becoming known throughout
France for his holiness and his work as a confessor. He came out of curiosity, not out of
repentance. He was crossing the street
with his dog, when he finally ran into the holy priest. Fr. Vianney (who at times had the gift of
being able to “read hearts”) stopped, looked at the dog, then at the man, and
he said, “Sir, it is greatly to be wished that your soul were as beautiful as
your dog!”
Things were not as they seemed to be! By the way, this young man went to confession
to Fr. Vianney shortly thereafter, and eventually became a religious brother.
This lesson also applies to many experiences in life which
we would hastily call “failures.” I’ll
give you an example: a seminarian I know is currently teaching CCD to a group
of 6th graders and having an awful time of it. Apparently, he’s dealing with a very
difficult class; the students are driving him crazy! Jokingly he said to me one day, “Fr. Ray, I
think God’s getting even with me, for what I put the nun through who taught me
in the 6th grade!”
That nun—35 or so years ago—probably thought that she had
failed with this young man. She probably
thought that she had wasted her efforts, and made no difference in his
life. But little did she realize—she was
planting some of the seeds of a future vocation to the priesthood! Things
were not what they seemed. Please
hear that, frustrated parents and teachers!
And how about the application of this idea to the
sacraments, especially the Holy Eucharist?
Before the consecration of the Mass, the elements on the altar look like
bread and wine. After the consecration,
the elements STILL look like bread and wine!
But the truth is: after the consecration the elements are no longer what they seem to be! they
are the very Body and Blood of the Savior of the world, given to us for our
spiritual nourishment.
Jesus, at the Transfiguration, wanted to help his apostles
to see things as they were—that was his
desire!
Let’s ask the Lord for the same grace at this Mass: the
grace to see ourselves as we really are—even if it means coming to terms with
some serious sins; the grace to see Jesus as our powerful, loving Savior who
has paid the full price for the forgiveness of our sins; the grace to see our
sufferings as stepping stones to holiness; the grace to see how God can use
even our apparent failures for his glory; the grace to recognize the presence
of Christ in the sacraments—especially the Holy Eucharist.
Lord Jesus Christ, in all these different dimensions of life, help us
to remember that things are not always as they seem to be, and give us the
vision to see things as they are. Amen.
