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2nd Sunday of Lent (B) - Lent - Fostering a poverty of spirit.

The purpose of Lent is to help us to prepare to enter into the mystery of Christ’s Passion, death, and Resurrection - the Easter mysteries.  Our Lenten practices are meant to help us to embrace the cross so that we will experience the joy of the Resurrection.  We are one week and a few days into Lent.  So how are we doing?  Have we given up already what we planned to do?  Have we modified our goals?  Have we experienced our weakness or the futility of our own efforts in the ability to live our image of the Christian life?  When Jesus first presented the cross to his disciples - predicting his own passion and death, the disciples must have been confused and  discouraged if not distraught.  They had been with him for some time and believed that he was the long-awaited Messiah, but now their image of a triumphant Messiah is put into crisis.  Their plans and dreams have just been shattered by this revelation. They are filled with anguish at the prospect of what will come.  It is almost the opposite or a contradiction of their expectation.  Peter even takes it upon himself to take Jesus aside and rebuke him - telling Jesus what’s what.  We can imagine Peter saying:  “God forbid!  What is all this nonsense talk about suffering greatly and being killed?  Come on, Jesus, don’t you know, Messiahs don’t get killed, they kill and conquer!”  Of course we know Jesus’ response: “Get behind me, Satan.  You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.”  The event of the Transfiguration takes place one week later - a week after the disciples have begun to follow him with this awareness - that if they wish to come after him, i.e., follow him, they must deny themselves and take up the cross.  The Church always gives us the Gospel of the Transfiguration on the 2nd Sunday of Lent after we’ve had a week to reacquaint ourselves with what it means to follow Jesus  - to take our discipleship more seriously in taking up the cross.  What Jesus proposes to address this crisis of the disciples is to take them up a high mountain apart by themselves.  Mountains symbolize a meeting point between heaven and earth.   In the Bible, mountains are the places of encounter with God - where God reveals himself.  Mountains represent a place of prayer.  In the Transfiguration, the disciples get a glimpse of the resurrection - the glory of God in and through the humanity of Jesus.  They see in Jesus their own destiny.  They are shown in this event “that the Passion leads to the glory of the Resurrection.”  They are given a foretaste of the fulfillment of the promise Jesus makes to them.  They have this experience to strengthen their faith, but Jesus teaches them also that the cross cannot be carried, Christian discipleship cannot be lived out apart from a life of prayer - a life in which we go apart by ourselves with Jesus, place ourselves in the presence of God, and enter into the mystery of a life greater than our own and let that mystery enter into us.  Peter recognizes that it is good to be in the Lord’s presence, but his first thought is to make or do something, “Let us make three tents.”  The voice of the Father is then heard, “This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.”  This is a correction of Peter.  Prayer is less about our saying and doing and more about being in the presence of God and listening - being receptive to what God wants to give us.  Taking up the cross is very much about this: Listening to God, following God, and obeying God when what is presented to us does not seem to be the way in which we think God’s promise will be fulfilled.  It might even seem contradictory to the fulfillment of the promise.  The cross puts us in touch with our poverty.  Why is this important?  Because the kingdom of God can only be received in our poverty.  “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven” says the first of the Beatitudes.  What “Poverty” refers to in the spiritual life is not material poverty but the awareness that everything is a gift.  Poverty is the position of receptivity to the Lord. 

          Abraham, our “father in faith”, witnesses to a great poverty before God - what this poverty means.  God promised to Abraham more descendants than the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore.  And when Abraham and his wife Sarah “were as good as dead”, i.e., beyond child-bearing years, they were given a son, Isaac.  It would be through this son, their only begotten son, that the promise would be fulfilled.  Then God “puts Abraham to the test” by telling him to offer his son as a holocaust to the Lord.  This seems contradictory to the promise.  How could God fulfill his promise if Isaac is sacrificed?  How does Abraham obey - why is he free to make this sacrifice of his beloved son?  Because Abraham is aware that Isaac is a total gift.  He is not his possession.  If God did what was “impossible” from a human perspective in granting him a son in his old age, why should Abraham think that God would not keep his promise in this most impossible of ways?  The presence of Isaac is a sign that God is a God of the impossible.  In many ways, Isaac prefigures Christ and is pointing us to the way God will fulfill his covenant with the sacrifice of Christ, the beloved Son of the Father, on Calvary. 

          I recently heard an interview of a priest Fr. Malachy, a Franciscan Friar of the Renewal, in which he was talking about the mystery of cross and how the Lord invites us to be poor.  Fr. Malachy was ordained in May, 2020, only a few months into the pandemic.  He had been waiting for and preparing for ordination for years, and when the pandemic hit, everything was up in the air.  What he imagined and dreamed about - a grand event with the Cathedral choir and thousands of people - was being taken away.  His ordination had been scheduled to take place at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York with Cardinal Dolan.   All of his family and friends would be there.  He was informed by the Archdiocese that they were cancelling the ordination for now.  He could wait until who knows when or do something with no more than 10 people in the chapel of the friary.  He was frustrated and angry at this delay and uncertainty.  He longed for this moment, and now he cannot share it with those he loved.  He prayed, “Jesus, why are you allowing this to happen?  Why are you asking this of me?  He realized in his prayer that anyplace in his heart where he felt anxiety, fear, or frustration, something other than Jesus had become the center.  He realized that he had made an idol out of his own ordination and his preferences.  He said, “In that gift of being stripped of all these things, I had the opportunity to recognize that everything is a gift.  It is not up to me to determine how and when the gift is given.  It is up to me to have a posture of receptivity to the gift.”  The experience taught him that the priesthood is for Jesus alone.  It is his priesthood.  And it is for the sake of the Church.  “This ordination is not for me;  if it didn’t happen the way it happened, I would have thought it was for me, and lived it that way.”

          May our Lenten practices be a way to foster this poverty of spirit, to follow Jesus up the mountain of prayer, to recognize the idols we have created, and to learn that “He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, will also give us everything else along with him.”  These impossible things that we face are not to condemn us but to help us to know how God keeps his promises and gives us a taste, here and now, of the Resurrection.