Thought for the week - 1 March 2026

There are themes in Lent of course. Quieter music, a lack of flowers, greater options for prayer and reflection, and I hope, a great amount of admittedly restrained joy at the Easter season fast approaching. Each year the second Sunday of Lent story of the Transfiguration of Jesus comes as the Gospel, taken in turn from each of the Gospels. But we may, because there is only so much that we can take in, and we can be less then attentive at times, not have noticed that the first reading is always about Abraham.

This year we heard how Abraham was called by God to leave his own country and travel into a strange land, which God would give to his descendants. The next year we hear of the sacrifice of Isaac, and then the promise that God makes to Abraham. This link between Abraham and the Transfiguration is no accident.

The Transfiguration, like Lent, is a frozen, out of time moment in history. It takes us out of our familiar narrative of the life of Christ and then throws us back into it just as abruptly, as the slightly chilling ending has it, suddenly, they were alone. The Transfiguration is about the brief dramatic revelation of the glory of Jesus to the three Apostles on the mountain. It associates him with Moses and Elijah who represent the Law and the Prophets. In other words it is saying that Jesus is the expected One to whom Law and Prophets pointed. The story that began with Abraham finds its goal in Jesus. An ending is reached of the labour of Abraham and it points to the ending we will find on Good Friday, when the labour of God to redeem us ends the exile from the garden.

The One who called Abraham and who promised that he himself would be among us, has now fulfilled his promise. The ‘Beloved Son’ is Emmanuel, ‘God with us’, and we behold His glory on the mountain, and we will do so again in a few weeks on Calvary, and this mountain should prepare us for hope in the face of death on that mountain, and for hope in the face of our own death as well, for this is what the transfiguration is about.

All this takes place on a mountain because, in Biblical imagery, mountains are places of revelation, above all with the self-revealing of God at Mount Sinai. Matthew’s Gospel mentions three mountains: the Mount of the Sermon, where Jesus teaches the New Law; the Mount of Transfiguration, where he is seen as the Beloved Son; and the Mountain in Galilee, where he appears triumphant in his risen life and sends his disciples to preach the Good News to all people, which is I am with you always. I am with you in the Mass on this calvary, I am with you in heaven on this mountain and I am with you in the Sermon on the Mount when you follow my teachings, for then you build my Kingdom, and I will dwell with you as I promised Abraham, and his line forever.

So by linking Abraham with the Transfiguration, our liturgy clamps together both the beginning and the crucial turning-point in the history of God’s dealings with us. Jesus came to be the focal point of human history, a history of which we are part, which gives our lives a meaning, a sense of purpose and a goal.

Perhaps, too, the stories of Abraham and the Transfiguration are linked because they are both about the journey of faith. The Apostles likewise were called from their homely fishermen’s life to follow Jesus; and though it was exciting at first, it soon became scary and bewildering. Where was it all heading? Where is our pilgrimage heading? I suggest that in the three peaks challenge of the mount, of the transfiguration and of calvary, we do not need to worry, because those three peaks build the Kingdom, and if we build His Kingdom, He will dwell in it, so we are already at the destination, and our current task is to make as many people aware of that as possible by rejecting whatever is contrary to it. As we follow in the footsteps of the Beloved Son, our journey of faith will often demand of us the constancy of Abraham.

Jesus touched them, saying: Get up, do not be afraid. And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. Jesus, who had been seen conversing with Moses and Elijah and whose Father cried out from heaven, is again found alone, as He will be found alone in the Garden, on the cross and in the next garden. We listen to the words as a community, in shared attention but we also hear them alone, as words addressed to each of us alone, invited on a journey into personal freedom that no one else can take for us. Like the disciples, we need silence to digest their import.

Yet they do not travel to Jerusalem alone. They walk with the Lord and each other. Our journey is also towards the shared freedom and joy of the Kingdom, for which we struggle now. Embracing freedom is costly. If we support the cause of freedom, even though it is but a tiny foretaste of what is promised, it will be costly for us too. Let us weigh the cost and set out.