A couple of weeks ago I read the blog by Catherine Smith, in her Hem of the Light email entitled “Sometimes to tell is to transfigure”, in which she said, “Peter came to the mountain with an old story. It wasn’t a bad story. It just didn’t quite fit. It constricted his sight. He looked at it without being able to look through it.” The Gospel of Luke, that we read this weekend, for the Transfiguration, says that Peter seeing Jesus’ glory wants to build three tents for Jesus, Moses and Elijah. It then says “But he did not know what he was saying”. Jesus wanted Peter, James and John to get a glimpse of his glory so that they were readied for the difficult times ahead, witnessing his arrest and crucifixion. Peter wanted to move into action versus simply being present to the unity of Jesus and his Father, a glimpse of heaven.
Our old stories can get in the way of what God wants to reveal as possible to us. We say “it’s too late”, “I’m too old”, “I’m not smart enough”, or maybe as we move further in Lent “it’s too hard, what difference does this make anyway (i.e., “this” being the thing I am trying to do more of or have “given up”)? All of these can be temptations by the false spirit to move you further away from experiencing Jesus and growing closer to him in silence and prayer and discovering more about the fullness of life with him. We are tempted to think that the restoration and wholeness we seek during Lent isn’t possible. We might be seduced into believing that we can’t come out the other side of Lent as a different person.
In February, during his reflection on the Transfiguration mystery, on the Rosary in a Year podcast, Fr. Mark Mary used an analogy that captured my attention. He said that if you stand in Times Square in New York at night, you only see the lights, you can’t see the dark sky. The lights blind us to the reality of night above all the lights. With this analogy in mind, the lights of the world make it hard to see the beauty and brilliance of Jesus’ glory, unless we step away, reduce the distractions, so that we can see what’s really beautiful and get a glimpse of that which we have been created for. The other morning, as I went outside to watch the lunar eclipse, I was grateful for the clear skies and darkness of the night sky so that I could experience this wonder in the celestial dome. I couldn’t see the eclipse from inside my house, I had to step out and away, I had to look up to experience it.
Jesus wants us to experience wholeness and healing in our hearts and in our lives. If you haven’t started yet, or have been tempted to give up already, what might you let go of during these remaining weeks of Lent to make more room for an encounter with Christ? Are there some distractions that you can clear away to make space to listen more carefully?
This time of Lent has been revealing to me the impact of distractions and noise on my prayer life and, honestly, my stress level. I pray for the grace to continue with the same level of discipline so that I continue to be transformed during these forty days.
Wishing you abundant peace, Deena
Image: Starved Rock State Park on a March day, several years ago, similar to today with fresh snowfall.
Note: It’s not too late to register for my Lent Evening of Reflection, Make My Heart Like Your Heart, this Thursday, March 20 at 6:30 p.m. The suggested donation is $19 and all proceeds will be sent to Catholic Relief Services and the Rice Bowl project. I am not a non-profit so please be sure to mark donation to Catholic Relief Services on your check so that you have a record of your donation for your taxes. You can contact me in the comments, or on social media, if you would like to attend and receive a Zoom link for the event, as well as the address to mail the check. It will be a time of prayer and reflection, as well as sharing, on three scripture passages reflecting on ways that we might have a heart more like that of Christ.
Deena Pavinato - Journeys 