When the disciples heard this, they fell prostrate
and were very much afraid.
But Jesus came and touched them, saying,
"Rise, and do not be afraid."
And when the disciples raised their eyes,
they saw no one else but Jesus alone.
Most of us grew up with annual screenings of The Wizard of Oz, and can recite passages from the iconic film. It was entertaining, inspiring, educational, and formative; and may be the most popular film in history. Few saw the terrifying appearance of the Wizard as a parody of God's appearances on Mount Tabor or of Jesus's transfiguration. Mostly we remember the huckster's futile command, "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain." And we forgive him since he was "not a bad man, just a very bad wizard."
With that suggestion and millions like it, we learned skepticism about religion. We don't often fall prostrate upon hearing the voice of command. We're more likely to wonder who's hiding behind the curtain. And then we'll study the bells and whistles -- the engineering machinery -- of his wizardry. It wasn't magic after all; nor was it the mystical appearance of a benevolent god. It was only a clever trick pulled on gullible munchkins.
On this second Sunday of Lent, Catholics hear a thunderous voice from heaven and we watch as Peter, James, and John fall prostrate in terror. We hear the LORD's command, "Listen to him!"
But the command is not simply about obeying the Son of Mary, a human being like ourselves. Rather, we should listen to what he has said:
...that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
If we are terrified, it's for our savior, brother, and friend as he approaches Jerusalem. We fall prostrate before death, and we tremble before the obedience of the Son of God. And we know -- each one of us -- that we too must hear and obey God's voice as we follow the Lord to Jerusalem, Calvary, and Easter.
It's one thing to know that everybody dies; it's quite another to know that I will die. And it's terrifying to know that even now I am making the choice to die with Jesus. His suffering is my suffering. His destiny is mine.
Not even the Wizard of Oz, with all his technical ability and engineering genius, can avoid death. He might find some magic elixir to forestall it; some cures for cancer, heart disease, and Alzheimer's; but he only delays the inevitable.
As we practice prayer, fasting, and almsgiving during this holy season, we bow our heads before the mystery of death. As we go with Jesus we can see clearly where this must end, but we also believe he has found the narrow gate which leads through death to life. It has nothing to do with science, technology, engineering, and mathematics. It is all about holiness, purity of heart, and faith in God. These sciences we study in church.
Our learning and wisdom begin with the fear of the Lord. With Peter we forget our suggestions about how God should pull off our salvation. It's not about three booths for Moses, Elijah, and Jesus. It's not about better living through chemistry or managing our portfolios.
We will not offer the burnt stick of a witch's broom to the Lord; we will offer the crosses each one took up, embraced, and carried. We will offer the sacrifice of a life in Jesus.
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.