(Originally published February 21, 2017)
Our Great Pyrenees (Sophia) looks up at the sky every time she goes outside. We have figured out that she is looking for birds or bumblebees that either taunt her or that want her to play with them. She engages them and barks as they swoop down at her. One night, when I let Sophia out, she looked up at the night sky. The sky was clear and full of stars and I really believe she was looking at the stars instead of looking for her bird friends.
In the Second Sunday of Lent Scriptures, we move from the desert temptation of last week to the mountain transfiguration episode. The first two Sundays of Lent seem to lay out the map of our Lenten journey – called into the ‘desert’ to face the things that we may need to look at and brought up to the top of the mountain with Jesus for a small yet unclear glimpse of what is to come. The rest of Lent is many times an experience of one or the other of these, or sometimes both. So much about this season is shrouded in the mystery of revelation. Sometimes we may feel stranded in the desert or even on a mountaintop, dumbstruck and enamored, befuddled and loved. It can be an uncanny experience.
The characters of the Scriptures today are truly a star-studded cast. We have the Father in Faith himself, Abram, in the Genesis story (GN 15: 5-12, 17-18) and the sublime and very intimate covenant ceremony that God conducts for his beloved Abram and the yet-to-be nation of the Hebrew people. And then in the Gospel (LK 9: 28B-36), we have Jesus taking his closest disciples, John, James and Peter, up the Mountain to experience the brilliant interaction between Himself and Moses and Elijah (the very heart of the Hebrew People –the Law and the Prophets).
In both stories, God is present in a mysterious yet intimate way, initiating and participating in the loving actions in the stories. In Genesis, it’s the meticulous care that God takes in instituting the covenant in a way that Abram could somehow recognize and appreciate, and in Luke’s Gospel, God smiles proudly on the Promise, His very Self, His Son!
In both stories, we have vulnerable persons (Abram, Peter, James and John) awestruck, frightened, somewhat confused at what is going on around them, yet inexorably drawn and open to trust. There is shadow and darkness involved in both stories. In the darkness they are terror-stricken, yet they trust. It appears that the brilliance of the Promise is more convincing than any feeble attempts to try to figure it all out.
”As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him. When the sun had set and it was dark, there appeared a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch… It was on that occasion that the LORD made a covenant with Abram, (GN)
“…a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my chosen Son; listen to him.” (LK)
A while back, I had the privilege of participating in the breaking open of these Scriptures with a group of incarcerated men. One of the reflection questions was “Where do you find God?” And without pause, one of the men immediately responded, “in the dark.” He went on to share with the group how it was the darkness of feeling alone and without help from anyone that he experienced the grace of God calling to him and telling him how loved he is! It was these words in the darkness that shone brightly and gave this man hope. He ended this heart-felt story by saying that, for him, the darkness itself was that which allowed him to see the light.
What truth and honesty there is in this! The seeming muteness of darkness many times provides the contrast needed for Light to be seen, in all its brilliance. Like the dark night sky shot through with the brilliant star points that smile from the heavens, it is sometimes our darkest moments wherein we really experience the presence of God. Stumbling around in the enveloping darkness of clouds, we encounter that which can lead us out and open our eyes. But this process does not always involve understanding of the mind. It’s an affair of the heart and soul, and can confound as much as console us!
It can leave us mute, just as Abram after the flaming torch held by the hand of God passed through the covenantal sacrifice, and just as words failed the disciples after hearing the voice in the cloud entreating them to listen to the Son. We are sometimes called into the ‘deserts’ and onto ‘mountaintops’ of darkness precisely so we can really see the brightness of what is really out there – an incarnate God who brings us all together in an embrace of love that is greater than the highest peak of any mountain and far wider than the any night sky of the desert.
I was afraid of the dark as a child many times, but I am learning now that sometimes being in the dark, I can learn ironically how to ‘wake up’ from the sleeping trance, like Abram and the disciples in today’s scripture, and look upward and about, like Sophia our dog, for… yes…playful birds swooping down, but also countless stars that shine and smile in abundant promise.
“Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can.”
Peace,
Thomas