Second Sunday of Lent – Year C: 16.03.25
10am: Mass in St. Mary’s Church, Edenderry
Introduction:
Three are asked to climb a mountain, why just three, and why this three – Peter, James and John? They always seemed to be in one another’s company; it wasn’t just on Mount Tabor.
They were there at Capernaum when Jairus’ daughter was raised from the dead and they would be together again in Gethsemane at His moment of intense aloneness and pain. Tabor overlaps with Gethsemane.
Did they get it? Let’s not start the blame-game, we know all about Peter and how far his loyalty at times stretched.
Do any of us get it? If we were really taken by the aspect of Jesus’ face changing, we too would need to radically change …
Penitential Act:
… as pilgrims of hope on our Lenten journey we acknowledge our weakness, and our need of God’s mercy, and so prepare ourselves to celebrate Christ’s faithfulness to his Father, and to us, his sisters and brothers.
- Lord Jesus, You bring light to those in darkness. Lord, have mercy.
- Christ Jesus, you reveal the ways of mercy and compassion, for every person. Christ, have mercy.
- You are our hope and our strengh, help us journey back to you. Lord, have mercy.
Homily:
The Second Sunday of Lent is always marked by the Transfiguration. Peter, James, and John—the same three disciples we meet over and over again—are alone with Jesus on Mount Tabor. This morning’s version signs off: “[they] told no one what they had seen.” (Luke 9:36) Well we know this is untrue, because three more, who never darkened the slopes of Tabor—Matthew, Mark and Luke— wrote about the event. And we must go to the accounts by Matthew and Mark to see how and why this ‘Transfiguration Experience’ spread. Matthew and Mark in their respective gospel passages add a condition to the silence of the Tabor Three … “until the Son of Man has risen from the dead” in Matthew (Matt 17:9 [Year A]), and “until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead” in Mark (Mark 9:9 [Year B]).
There is a second peculiarity worth noting, this morning’s version of Tabor has a completely silent Jesus: unlike the other two versions, Luke’s Jesus utters not a word. There are very few Gospel passages where Jesus doesn’t speak or offer direction. There is a story told of the late Cardinal John O’Connor of New York visiting Rome towards the end of his life and being asked if he had any regrets, he responded: “I talked too much, I should have been quiet much more often”[1].
You know, just like that key moment in an Ordination ceremony, when a young man who has studied perhaps for seven years, submitted papers, presented theses, attended lectures, and retreats, the only word he is required to make in that initial moment of the Ordination Rite is ‘Present’. It says it all. Or in the Wedding Rite: ‘Do you take…?’ And the response, the only response, is “I do.” And that’s all any of us can do, is be there, be in the moment. Be there with the bereaved and the broken; be there with the feted and the celebrated. It’s not what we say, sometimes it’s saying nothing, just being present that counts.
Fr. Liam has been present with you here in Edenderry since I appointed him here as Administrator in June 2021. He returned home, a little like Jesus returning to Capernaum. Liam was here for the final weeks of his mother Mai’s life. 2021 was a tough year losing both his parents. His appointment followed the massive stroke that completely upended the health of Fr. PJ, who continues to enjoy excellent care in Altadore Nursing Home, Glenageary. His candle continues to be lit here on the altar during every Mass.
Liam’s own diagnosis which he has spoken to you openly about, is a very tough one. For someone so gifted and so able to be so cruelly struck is a hard blow for all of us to take. But Liam in his own wishes remains ‘Present’ to all of you and you to him, as he will continue to reside here in Edenderry and do what little or what more he is able to do. I have said to him, that like Pope Francis leading our Church from his bed in the Gemelli Hospital, sometimes we lead most effectively from our own place of vulnerability or weakness.
In the next while, I will appoint a priest to take on the administration of this parish, so that Liam does not need to burden or concern himself with duties, schedules, committees and rotas. This morning I want to acknowledge priests like Fr. Larry Malone, Sr. Aine, Deacon Paul, Fr. PJ Madden, priests in neighbouring parishes and others, too many to mention, who continue to support Liam supplying Masses and duties here. At the heart of what any of us can offer Liam is the assurance of our prayers. When we pray—even in the midst of our distractions, we are saying to the Lord, ‘I am trying present to you,’ AND we are silently saying to our neighbour, ‘I am with you, you are not alone.’ It is not for nothing that Saint Luke begins his account of the Transfiguration by drawing our attention to where all this happens: “Jesus … went up on the mountain to pray. And as he prayed …” Jesus says nothing. It is in that silent prayer, that God’s light shines through him (see Luke 9:29).
That word ‘Present’ is a promise to be present with God’s people in their brokeness and pain, in their joys and celebrations. It’s the job of a Bishop to be present with his priests and people. The much loved Fr. PJ Byrne, formerly of Kilcock, sent me a short reflection on the appointment of bishops. It included the prayer: “Eternal Shepherd, may we be blessed in those you have chosen as pastors of your people. In times of tranquility and in times of trial, may we support them all with our love, compassion and heartfelt prayer.” And that’s exactly what I am asking off you the people of Edenderry to continue to do with Fr. Liam.
After the three disciples experienced the Transfiguration on the Mountain, as they came down the mountain they met a large crowd, with a dad who was at his wits end because his son was suffering from epileptic seizures and no one could offer him comfort. And just as they saw Jesus in all his glory on Tabor, so too they saw him on the bottom of the mountain, as that boy was cured. Jesus is with us in our highs and our lows. May we welcome him in all the ways he is ‘present’ to us, in the silence of our prayer and in the needs of each other. “Lord, it is good that we are here.” Good that we are here with you, good that we are here with each other, for each other.
[1] Dolan, Timothy: ‘To Whom Shall We Go”, Our Sunday Visitor, 2008, pg. 46.