The transfiguration of Jesus must have been a glorious experience for Peter, James and John. They wanted to stay there, as we all do when we have a peak experience. But they had to descend into the valley, to live their lives, to follow Jesus. It doesn’t seem that we grow in depth if we only have peak experiences, if we stay on the mountain top. Things have trouble growing on mountaintops. Beyond the tree line almost nothing will grow because it is too cold and there is a lack of moisture. Living things grow best in the valley: they can develop roots; they are grounded. While they may lack the excitement of mountain peaks, valleys tend to be growing places. But it is in the valley that we really acquire depth, rootedness, strength and flexibility. That is where we are called to mature emotionally and spiritually. Of course, we need both; we can’t always live in the valley.
Often our reading of this story focuses on what is seen but do we sometimes emphasise the light of transfiguration to the exclusion of the voice of transfiguration? We are looking but are we listening? A voice came from the cloud and said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” ‘Listen’ is the only thing the disciples are told throughout this whole event. Listening is central to transfiguration. Yet Luke records no words or teaching from Jesus during this event. Jesus is silent. So it must be about more than words, instructions, and lessons. True listening is an interior quality, a way of being. It is more about the heart than the ears. And it is more about silence than words. Ultimately, listening is about presence.
Listening creates an opening through which the transfigured Christ enters and transforms us. Listening asks of us intention, attention, and letting go of the things that deafen us. Anything that destroys or limits presence is a form of deafness. We are being told to be present, to be open, to be receptive to the one who is always present to us, whether we are on the mountaintop or in the valley or covered by the cloud of unknowing.
Last Tuesday evening, at 7.30pm, we were delighted to welcome around a dozen people to the first of our Ignatian Lenten Retreat evenings entitled ‘Walking Together With Jesus’.
There was a wonderfully peaceful atmosphere as we gathered to pray with the Scriptures using the ancient practice of Lectio Divina, which has been described as a ‘four-runged ladder to heaven’.
Having shared a little of how Lent had started for each of us, and after a brief explanation of the history and practice of Lectio Divina, we were taken through the four stages of this prayerful approach to scripture, described as the four R’s; Read, Reflect, Respond and Rest, using last Sunday’s Gospel recalling Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness.
Our time together was punctuated by sharing and silence, and the chance for a cuppa at the start and end of our evening, and was appreciated by all as a great way to begin Lent supporting each other in prayer.
We gather together again this coming Tuesday (19th March) for the second of our six Lenten evenings to look at another helpful Ignatian practice related to praying with the Scriptures known as ‘Imaginative Contemplation’, and we would be delighted if you were able to join us.
Each of the sessions stands alone, so don’t worry if you can only join us for one or two evenings, and for more information of our coming sessions and the helpful on-line resources available to accompany the ‘Walking Together With Jesus’ Retreat please click here.
Gospel story follows immediately on from Jesus’ baptism. Each of the three
temptations touches on Jesus’ identity as the Son of God, which had been
revealed during his baptism: ‘This is my Beloved Son in whom I am well
pleased.’ “Notice that each of the three temptations is preceded by the same
verse: ‘If you are the Son of God…’ The first way the evil one tempts
any of us is to make us doubt our divine identity. Once we think we are no
good, we are lost.” (R.Rohr) We can so easily find our identity in what we do, in what we have, in what other people think of us, instead of in who
we are, which can so easily be overlooked or forgotten in our crazy, hectic,
tightly scheduled, work-oriented lives.
The type of temptations we experience and the circumstances by which they come are unique to each one of us because they reveal what’s inside us, what fills us. That’s why just saying no is an overly simplistic understanding of this gospel and an inadequate response to temptation. Temptation is less about a choice and more about our identity and direction in life. Who am I? Where is my life headed? We answer those questions every time we face and respond to our temptations. We face ourselves and learn the ways in which our life has become disconnected from the original beauty of our creation and the transfiguring presence of God. Temptation offers us something to be discovered and the opportunity to recover ourselves. Regardless of what we see there within us, it’s just information, a diagnosis. It’s not a final judgment, a conclusion, or our grade on God’s final exam! We don’t pass or fail our temptations. We learn the truth about how we see ourselves. We learn the truth about the direction of our life and who we are becoming. This learning is neither easy nor pain free but it is the necessary learning which leads us to change our hearts (repent).
is the time to spend time in the ‘desert’ of silence where the inner life
thrives. We need to create a time and a space to allow God to reshape and
redirect our life, to return us to the truth of who we are, daughters and sons
of God, beloved children, with whom He is well pleased. The angels of God will
hold on to us when we can’t hold on to ourselves.
We begin Lent by blessing and being
blessed by the ashes of the palms used in last year’s Palm Sunday
celebration. Do we see this as a ‘doom
and gloom’ experience, or do we come filled with hope, knowing what God can do
Blessing the Dust
All those days you felt like dust, like dirt, as if all you had to do was turn your face toward the wind and be scattered to the four corners
or swept away by the smallest breath as insubstantial—
Did you not know what the Holy One can do with dust?
This is the day we freely say we are scorched.
This is the hour we are marked by what has made it through the burning.
This is the moment we ask for the blessing that lives within the ancient ashes, that makes its home inside the soil of this sacred earth.
So let us be marked not for sorrow. And let us be marked not for shame. Let us be marked not for false humility or for thinking we are less than we are
but for claiming what God can do within the dust, within the dirt, within the stuff of which the world is made, and the stars that blaze in our bones, and the galaxies that spiral inside the smudge we bear.