Points of dazzling light

This is my homily for this weekend, the 2nd Sunday of Lent for Cycle C.  The readings for this weekend are here.

Twice this week when I was out running errands, I popped into stores to buy a few things for our home.  In both instances, the checkout clerk asked me, “Do you want a bag for that?”  I was a little disconcerted at first; my initial reaction was, Yes, I want a bag, it’s much more convenient to carry items when they’re bagged.  But then I realized that they were doing the right thing.  Disposable plastic shopping bags are not good for our environment; producing them harms the environment, and so does disposing of them.  It would be much better for me to bring a reusable bag with me on these little trips.  I’m notorious in our house for never remembering to bring our reusable shopping bags.  These store clerks asking the question, “Do you want a bag?”, served to remind me that I can, and should, do better.  Their asking me that question was a small kindness, the kind of simple and humble act that can serve as a small point of light in the darkness.

We’re blessed to live in a community filled with people who are small points of light in the darkness.  A couple of weeks back, we had a wonderful celebration of wedding anniversaries at one of our masses.  We celebrated married couples, some of whom have been married for a very long time: 40, 50, even 60 years.  When we see marriages that have worked out and stayed together that long, spouses who have been faithful to one another over those years, through all the difficulties and stresses that accompany any marriage, we get a glimpse – just a glimpse - of God’s steadfast love for us. 

We’re told in our Gospel reading that Peter, John and James see Jesus’s glory, and also see Moses and Elijah coming to Jesus in glory.  That word “glory” seems to refer to the dazzling whiteness of their appearance – as if they were emitting rays of light, like the sun.  It seems that these apostles were given a glimpse – just a glimpse – of the full spiritual reality that is on offer to them as followers of Jesus.  Just a brief hint of his power and might, his standing in the center of salvation history around which all else revolves, all through the ages, stretching back to Abram and even farther, spanning the time of Moses in the desert, and the time of Elijah during the Davidic monarchy, right through to our present day and beyond.  To see Jesus in his glory: it must have been wondrous to behold.

The experience disoriented those three disciples.  Peter started babbling, not knowing what he was saying.  And as they descended from the mountain, the three apostles were silent – it was as if they had no words to describe or understand what had just taken place.

 

When we’re in the presence of those who follow Jesus, of those who have chosen to listen to him and follow him, it fills us with such joy and hope.  It’s like the spring sunshine warming our faces.  And conversely, when we’re in the presence of those who haven’t heard the voice of Jesus, or worse, have heard the voice of Jesus and chosen to walk in the opposite direction, toward evil, we find it so repulsive, so heart-chilling.  It seems to envelop us in a cloak of darkness.

That’s been my reaction to this past week’s horrific mosque attacks in New Zealand, by a man who apparently is a white supremacist.  It feels as though the sun was blotted out of the sky over that country for a time.  I don’t think it’s possible to be confronted by such an act and not conclude that we’re witnessing great evil.  To their credit, the Catholic bishops of New Zealand immediately condemned the mass shooting and declared that they stand in solidarity with the Muslim community in that country.  To declare that is a small act, but small acts by those who listen to Jesus make a difference.  Each small act, done in faith in Jesus, is a small point of light on a canvas of darkness.

The canvas of darkness in our world today certainly is vast.  Our climate and environment continue to deteriorate.  There is a certain irony in God’s invitation to Abram to “count the stars, if you can”.  No doubt, on a clear night in the desert in Abram’s day, the thousands upon thousands of stars in the sky were a dazzling sight; but with the deterioration of our environment, in some parts of the world today there are few stars visible at night, even when there is no natural cloud cover.  And there are still other evils we could name.  The countries of the world possess weapons of mass destruction, or are trying to acquire them, or are trying to acquire more.  Abortions continue day by day and year by year, destroying the lives of babies who are defenseless and also innocent of any wrong-doing.  I could go on and on talking about the evils which beset us in the world.

In the face of these vast social evils, over which we as individuals have little or no control, what can we do?  It would be easy for us to conclude that there is nothing we can do – it would be easy to despair.  This is where the small points of light help us.  Our small and simple acts of Christian faith are like the stars in the desert sky, each one tiny yet dazzling.  Those St. Edna couples who have been married for 50 or 60 years – their lives and their marriages are small pinpoints of dazzling witness to love and fidelity.  So are those New Zealand bishops, and others in New Zealand and around the world, who have expressed their love and solidarity for the Muslim community in Christchurch.  There is dazzling witness being offered in our religious ed classes, where our children are being prepared for first communion and teens for confirmation.  There are small points of dazzling witness in the parish office and lobby, where our Outreach ministry provides food to hungry people in our community, and comfort and kindness for those who are homeless.  These are small acts of Christian faith, performed humbly and quietly by individuals who are listening to Jesus.  Each of them dazzles us because each one reflects the dazzling love of Jesus himself.  And make no mistake: these acts of dazzling witness, though small in themselves, have their effect on the little corners of the world we inhabit.  Over time and cumulatively, it changes us and changes the world.  In fact, it makes the Kingdom of God present among us.

St. Paul tells the Philippians, and us, that we are citizens of heaven.  This isn’t our true home; our true home is with God.  Until we can be with him, we’re afforded these little glimpses of what can be, what may be possible, if only we have an ounce of faith.  Just as Peter, John and James got a glimpse of the full, dazzling reality of Jesus, our small acts of faith here, by those who are listening to Jesus, give us a glimpse of what our home in heaven may be like.