Second Sunday in Lent, Cycle C. Today’s readings: Genesis 15:5-12, 17-18; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9:28b-36
Óscar Romero’s Theological Vision: Liberation and the Transfiguration of the Poor, by Edgardo Colón-Emeric“But the gods of power and of money are opposed to there being transfiguration. This is why you, oh Lord, are the first one to raise your arm against oppression.”
These are the words that, according to Edgardo Colón-Emeric in his book Óscar Romero’s Theological Vision: Liberation and the Transfiguration of the Poor, the bishop of El Salvador, Óscar Romero, sang together with his congregation on March 23, 1980, the eve of meeting his fate as martyr. Romero had specifically asked a friend of his, Guillermo Cuéllar, to write a hymn dedicated to the Transfiguration.
Romero knew that in singing those verses, he was signing his own death sentence. But his aim was to have every person present there in the pews, if possible every person in the diocese of San Salvador, the capital of El Salvador, to encounter the transfigured Christ so that they too might be transfigured, changed and brought to their full glory by the power of God.
Romero wanted nobody to get discouraged by the challenges they had to face but that instead, in Christ’s Transfiguration they see the final destiny to which they are called. At the same time, Romero wanted that even those who were misusing their earthly power would meet the transfigured Christ so that they too might have their heart transfigured.
We dream of a transfigured society, especially when we notice that the idols of domination and greed within and outside of us threaten our flourishing as individuals and as a society. We long to be transfigured, changed interiorly as persons, as we become aware of our own weaknesses and failings. Is not Lent an invitation to be transformed as we respond to the call to conversion?
In his Transfiguration, Jesus gives his disciples a foretaste of the resurrection so that they may learn to trust in him
This event of the Transfiguration occurs just after Jesus announces to his disciples his own crucifixion, death and resurrection. But his disciples fail to understand what he means by resurrection, and even less do they believe that he will rise from the dead. That is why there, on Mount Tabor, in his Transfiguration, he gives his disciples a foretaste of the resurrection so that they may learn to trust in him.
Jesus projects the disciples’ gaze into the future, when God’s promise will be fulfilled, so as to strengthen their commitment in the present. Likewise, in what Pope Francis described as memoria futuri in his 2013 encyclical on faith, Lumen fidei, God promises Abraham that he will not turn back on his covenant.
In moments of doubt, as we see in today’s first reading, symbolised by the wild birds of prey that try and snatch the divided animals that seal the covenant, Abraham has nothing to rely on except this memory, in the form of a promise anchored in the future. That is enough to restore his hope to determine the shape of his choices in the present.
By having our eyes fixed on how a transfigured society might look like, we can commit ourselves to living rightly now. The foretaste of the resurrection reminds us that our efforts are not futile and that we are participating in an endeavour that goes beyond our efforts, but which cannot be done without our cooperation.
As Church, we are called to reflect with great joy and conviction the same shining light that radiates from Christ’s face at the Transfiguration. It is the ray of hope that illuminates the dark corners of our messy, complicated and sinful lives.
Perhaps like Peter, we might want to remain up there on the mountain in a comfy igloo tent contemplating the blinding vision in front of us. Yet Jesus tells that worshiping him is important but it only makes sense when we are ready to go down into the dark valley and humbly carry the light of Christ’s hope there as well.
Let us therefore be on our way.