The Vision That Sustains Us: Recognizing God's Presence in Daily Life | Sunday Reflection | 2nd Sunday of Lent

“Jesus took Peter, John and James and went up the mountain to pray.” This opening sentence to the gospel for the Second Sunday of Lent offers familiar words to us. They are also significant words to ponder as we continue with our journey through this Lenten Season.

This same trio of apostles will later go apart with Jesus again. This time it will not be to a mountaintop, but to the garden of Gethsemane. They who beheld Jesus’ glory on the mountain peak would witness his agony on the garden ground. Why? Because to endure the latter, they needed the former. The preface for today’s Eucharistic Prayer will put it this way: “He revealed his glory to strengthen them for the scandal of the cross.” This makes sense, but it also raises a question: what about us? It was good, proper, and fitting that the three apostles had a vision to sustain them in the grim times of the Lord’s passion and death. But, again, what about us? After all, you and I could possibly put up with an awful lot if we had a ‘remembered moment of glory’ to sustain us, a clear indication of the presence of Jesus, some sign that when every difficulty before us is over, everything would be all right.

And so we ask, where is our vision to hold on to?

We do, in fact, have our moments of transfiguration but, unfortunately, may fail at times to recognize these moments. It all comes down to a matter of seeing. Here’s an example…

Steve Covey, the author of the best selling The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, tells of an experience he had one day on a New York subway. Some people around him on the subway were reading newspapers, some were dozing, others were simply contemplating with their eyes closed. It was a rather peaceful, calm scene. At one stop a man and his children entered the subway car. The children were soon yelling back and forth, throwing things, even grabbing people’s newspapers. It was all very disturbing and yet the father just sat there next to Steve and did nothing. It was not difficult to feel irritated. Steve could not believe the man could be so insensitive as to let his children run wild and do nothing about it. It was easy to see that everyone else in the car was annoyed as well. Finally, with what he thought was admirable restraint and patience, Steve said to the man, “Sir, your children are really disturbing a lot of people. I wonder if you could control them a little bit more?” The man lifted his gaze as if coming into consciousness for the first time and said, “Oh, you’re right. I guess I should do something about it. We just came from the hospital where their mother died about an hour ago. I don’t know what to think and I guess they don’t know how to handle it either.”

Covey said, “Can you imagine what I felt at that moment? Suddenly I saw things differently. And because I saw differently, I felt differently. I behaved differently. My irritation vanished. I did not have to worry about controlling my attitude or my behavior. My heart was filled with this man’s pain. Feelings of compassion and sympathy flowed freely. ‘Your wife just died? Oh, I’m so sorry! Can you tell me about it? What can I do to help?’”

Nothing changed in that subway car. All was the same: the people, the same irritation, the same kids. What did change was a way of seeing it all and, with the seeing, a change of behavior. It was Steve Covey’s moment of Transfiguration, a moment of revelation that sustained him in a difficult situation. The point is, you and I have to see differently to recognize such revelations of God in our daily lives.

We do have our mountaintop revelations but simply fail to see them. We must remember what today’s gospel is telling us. If God is revealed in the human face of Jesus, Jesus is revealed in the human faces of those who touch us in love and whom we touch. We need only to open our eyes to witness the daily revelations of Jesus’ sustaining and reassuring presence.

Seeing is sometimes presented as a great paradox in the Bible – those with two good eyes are blind, those who are blind are able to see. The mystics even speak of a “third eye” – a seeing with the soul. They knew what modern psychologists know: what you and I see rules our behavior.

As we journey into the second week of Lent, the collect for today’s Mass serves as a humble prayer we can offer in seeking the vision of faith we often need to sustain us in life’s challenges…

O God, who have commanded us to listen to your beloved Son, be pleased to nourish us inwardly by your word, that with spiritual sight made pure, we may rejoice to behold your glory.