Message of Abbot Paul - Sunday - 25th February 2024

​Apart from the onset of hay fever, what I love most of all about the end of February and the beginning of March, is to return from my early morning walk with Toby without needing to use my miner’s torch. Helped by a full moon, the pre-dawn light was magical this Saturday in the early morning mist and frost. Amazing, too, the number of trees and shrubs in bloom, showing off the glory of their bright Spring colours. As we walk along together, we can sense the presence of the Risen Christ walking with us just as he walked with the disciples on the road to Emmaus or talked with Mary Magdalene in the Easter garden. It’s also a special moment of the day in which to think about my loved ones, living and dead, and know that they are with me, deep in my heart, a heart that I lovingly share.

 

​On the Second Sunday of Lent, we read the Gospel of the Transfiguration, today from Mark, (Mk 9: 2-10). “Jesus took with him Peter and James and John and led them up a high mountain where they could be alone by themselves. There in their presence he was transfigured: his clothes became dazzlingly white, whiter than any earthly bleacher could make them.” The three apostles who alone saw this happen could only describe his change of appearance in this rustic way: they had never seen a light so bright before. “Elijah appeared to them with Moses; and they were talking with Jesus.” They see Jesus, the new Moses and the new Elijah, speaking with the Patriarch and the Prophet, as he is the fulfilment of both. “Then Peter spoke to Jesus: ‘Rabbi,’ he said ‘it is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.’ He did not know what to say; they were so frightened.” In a way, Peter speaks out of turn, but then he’s not thinking clearly for fear of what’s going on before his eyes. What is true is that it’s wonderful for the three disciples to be with Jesus at this moment. But there is more to come. “And a cloud came, covering them in shadow; and there came a voice from the cloud, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to him.’ Then suddenly, when they looked round, they saw no one with them anymore but only Jesus.” They are enveloped in cloud and they hear the Father’s voice, declaring Jesus to be his Son, his Beloved to whom they should now listen. As suddenly as it began, the vision ends: Moses and Elijah have gone, the Father’s voice is silent and the cloud evaporates. They look and see only Jesus, their master and their friend, the man they have come to know and love. Just as they had gone up the mountain with Jesus, so now they have to come back down with him. From now on, they see “only Jesus.”

 

“As they came down from the mountain, he warned them to tell no one what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. They observed the warning faithfully, though among themselves they discussed what ‘rising from the dead’ could mean.” His warning mystifies them. What can he mean by talking of “rising from the dead”? Before the Transfiguration, Jesus had spoken to them of his Passion and Death, but perhaps not as clearly of his Resurrection. Now they have had a preview, so to speak, of what the Resurrection will be like; they have caught a glimpse of heaven. Even so, they are puzzled, but who wouldn’t be? We are puzzled today when we think of “rising from the dead.” We proclaim it at our Baptism and every time we recite the Creed. We celebrate it each year at Easter. Every time someone dies and we celebrate a Requiem Mass and Burial, we read, speak and pray about the Resurrection, not only of Jesus, but our own future resurrection from the grave. It might seem a tall order, but that’s what we believe, that’s what we hope for. Lord, our faith, like that of the Apostles, can sometimes be fragile and confused. You, who are the Resurrection and the Life, the Light of the world, strengthen and give new impetus to our faith. Amen.