AI translated and voice generated
Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Dearly beloved, when on this Second Sunday of Lent we hear the Gospel describing the Transfiguration of our Lord Jesus on Mount Tabor—when we hear how His face shone as the sun, and His garments became white as snow—the thought may arise in our minds: is this not some mistake? We are here in Lent; we are mortifying ourselves, we are fasting, and yet the Church reads us the Gospel describing the Transfiguration of the Lord. What, in fact, has the Transfiguration to do with the Passion of the Lord? What has Mount Calvary in common with Mount Tabor?
My dear ones, contrary to what it may seem to us humanly, they have very much in common. For our Lord Jesus, as the Creator of our human nature, knows it perfectly. He knows perfectly how easily we surrender in the face of life's difficulties. He knows how quickly we fail in spiritual strength, how quickly we abandon our resolutions and promises. And that is precisely why today He prepares not only the holy Apostles Peter, James, and John, but all of us, for Good Friday—for the trials of our faith, for the crosses of difficulty and suffering which we must face here on earth every day.
Christ our Lord prepares us for that day when the prophecy of Isaiah concerning the Redeemer shall be fulfilled: "He had no form nor comeliness that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him. Despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with infirmity; and His look was as it were hidden and despised, whereupon we esteemed Him not." It is precisely so that these coming difficulties and crosses do not halt us in our following of the Savior that He reveals Himself today on Mount Tabor, shining with the splendor of His majesty. We see today the face of our Lord Jesus, which shines like the sun. And the memory of this radiant face becomes for us all a source of hope. A source of hope that after the conclusion of our journey—this journey through a world shaken by winds and storms, a world plunged in darkness—we shall again behold the Sun that knows no setting: our Lord Jesus Christ.
My dear ones, the Son of God humbled Himself and became man because He wanted us to have the opportunity to know Him and to love Him. For consider: if the Lord Jesus had constantly shone with even a fraction of His Divine majesty, we would likely cry out like Saint Peter: "Lord, it is good for us to be here." It is good to be here with Thee; but gripped by that feeling of happiness, delight, and ecstasy, would we be able to truly know the Lord Jesus and listen to what He says to us? Yet God gave us reason so that here on earth we might know Him better each day. He gave us free will so that we might love Him and choose what He indicates to us.
Faith, my dear ones—contrary to what the modernists proclaim—is not a feeling; it is not an impulse of the heart. It is not "butterflies in the stomach." "I feel good when I come to church, when the guitars play, when I clap my hands"—this is a parody of faith. Faith is an act of the intellect. An intellect that bows before God, recognizing His majesty, recognizing that God can neither deceive nor be deceived. Faith is a rational act, not an emotional one. Saint John Vianney used to pray that God would not give him any spiritual consolations during the celebration of the Holy Mass. Why? Because he feared he might begin to celebrate the Mass for the sake of those spiritual consolations, rather than for the duty he had as a priest to give honor to God, One in the Holy Trinity.
This is something, my dear ones, that must be spoken of, because modernism has destroyed the concept of faith. Faith today is identified with a feeling, with a "religious experience," with butterflies in the stomach. A total absurdity, my dear ones; a total falsehood in which a great mass of so-called Catholics believe—even within the bosom of Tradition.
My dear ones, our Lord Jesus came into this world not in the glory of His Divinity, but in the humility of His humanity, so that we might know and love Him. He knows perfectly how weak we are. He knows perfectly the consequences of original sin in our lives. He knows perfectly how our human nature was wounded by original sin. Therefore, He did not leave us here on earth alone, but remained with us and grants us His grace, so that we might heal this wounded nature, that we might fight the consequences and effects of original sin in our lives. Christ the Lord, present in the Most Blessed Sacrament, feeds Catholic souls with His Body and Blood and sustains them in their warfare, in their pilgrimage toward heaven, so that we do not faint from exhaustion, so that we have the strength to resist the winds of life, and the strength to know and fulfill the will of God.
If you wish to see the Lord Jesus, then ascend the Mountain of Transfiguration. Approach the Divine Altar, upon which the Most Holy Sacrifice is celebrated. Come, and you shall see there the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world; hidden in the whiteness of the Host, He shines with a love that can go no further, for it has surpassed all bounds.
My dear ones, before we are ready at the end of our lives to meet the Savior, so many of our sins must yet burn in the fire of penance. So many of our wrong choices must be purified in the water of Divine Truth. This, in turn, involves various renunciations, the necessity of doing penance, and may also involve doubts as to whether my efforts and my strivings have any meaning. "Does it make sense to go to confession if I return to sin? Does it make sense to receive Holy Communion if I do not become a saint in the blink of an eye?"
Dear faithful, Satan desires to do everything possible to call into question our efforts to fulfill the will of God, to question the very meaning of our Catholic life. And these diabolical efforts and attacks are particularly strong in our times. Especially strong in these times in which, my dear ones, we are deprived of that clear light indicating the way to the port of salvation, to heaven. For it is so difficult for us today to find true Catholic priests who will preach the true Gospel of God. There are so many false friends around us with whom we spend time pleasantly, but with whom we can reach, at most, the fires of hell.
My dear ones, let this Second Sunday of Lent be an occasion for us all to resolve to follow the Lord Jesus, to resolve not to take our eyes even for a moment off the light with which He illuminates the paths of our lives. Let this Second Sunday of Lent be an occasion for a firm resolution: that we will make every effort within our power; that even if we happen to fall back into sin, we will not lie in it as in the mud, but we will rise and go further.
And never forget that if you wish to see the radiance of the Resurrection, you cannot remain today on Mount Tabor, but we must all move forward with confidence behind Christ and the Sorrowful Mother, all the way to Mount Calvary. There is no morning and radiance of the Resurrection without the pain, doubts, and sufferings of Good Friday. Amen.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Praised be Jesus Christ.