Previews of what’s to come

 

I have to admit that, when I used to read the beginning of our first reading, Genesis: 5-12, 17-18, I was not all that impressed. Our text for this Second Sunday of Lent has to do with the promises God made to Abram (later renamed Abraham): “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so, shall your descendants be.” I’ve always lived in areas where there is a lot of light pollution, which means that only a small fraction of stars are visible. Then on a camping trip to the western United States, we were at a relatively high altitude in an isolated corner of Idaho. Even though it was summer, the nighttime temperatures dipped into the 30’s, so the air was thinner and quite clear. And the area was so unpopulated that there was no light to compete with the light of the stars. I looked up, much as Abraham looked up, and saw our milky way in all its grandeur, like a ribbon of light across the night sky. Now with the use of very powerful telescopes, astronomers are saying that there are something like four hundred billion stars in the Milky Way. And beyond our home galaxy, there are billions upon billions of other galaxies out there. So the command to “count the stars if you can” now makes a lot of sense to me. It was quite a promise.

 

Our first reading describes the agreement between God and Abram as a sacred covenant in which both were pledging themselves to each other. The Hebrew word for the enactment of the covenant is “to cut”—to cut a covenant agreement. Here’s what the text says. God instructed Abraham, “Bring me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” The passage continues, “Abram brought him all these, split them in two, and placed each half opposite the other; but the birds he did not cut up. Birds of prey swooped down on the carcasses, but Abram stayed with them. As the sun was about to set, a trance fell on 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, which passed through those pieces. It was on that occasion that the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying: ‘To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the Great River, the Euphrates.’”

 

The word to cut a covenant refers to the animals being cut in half and the parties of the agreement passing through them, symbolizing a ratification in blood that bound the parties to the specifics of the pact. Abram bound himself in allegiance to God, and God promised both land and numerous descendants, as many as the stars of the sky, if they could possibly be counted.

 

Our Gospel reading for this Second Sunday of Lent, Luke 9:28-36, is the account of the Transfiguration. Jesus takes his inner circle of those closest to him, Peter, John and James, and leads them up a high mountain. “While he was praying his face changed in appearance and his clothing became dazzling white. And behold, two men were conversing with him, Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem.” What we find here might be called a preview of coming attractions. Jesus, knowing that the horrible days of humiliation, suffering and crucifixion were fast approaching, wanted to give his disciples the reassurance that it was all in the hands of God. Jesus appears, if only momentarily, in his divine glory. And by including in the vision the ancient figures of Jewish history, Luke is showing that Jesus now inherits and surpasses both the law (Moses) and the prophets (Elijah) that came before him.

 

Next, we find that Peter, overwhelmed at the sight, is overcome in ecstasy, and doesn’t really know how to process it or what to do with it. So, he wants to hang on to it. “Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Then, the revelation continues. “From the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my chosen Son; listen to him.’ After the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.”

 

This passage points to the events that will happen in Jerusalem. God will enter a new and everlasting covenant that will be sealed, not with the blood of animals, but with the blood of God’s own beloved Son, Jesus Christ. And the blessing received in this covenant is neither land nor descendants, but eternal life. Thus, these readings are meant to fill us with anticipation as we look to our annual celebration of Jesus life-giving death and resurrection during the Easter Triduum, the three glorious days, from Good Friday to Easter Sunday, that made us people of the new covenant with an eternal destiny.

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Born to Look … Learning to See Homily for the Third Sunday of Easter April 19, 2026 The scoutmaster used to take his troops on hikes along wilderness nature trails. After each hike he would challenge the scouts to describe what they had observed on their excursion. The boys invariably hadn’t seen a fraction of what the scoutmaster had seen. He would wave his arms in great circles and shout, “Creation is all around you, but you are blocking it out. Stop wearing your raincoat in the shower. You were born to look, but you have to learn to see.” You were born to look, but you have to learn to see. One of the questions that always arises about today’s gospel passage is: Why didn’t the two disciples recognize Jesus? Let’s spend some time reflecting on the possibilities. One obvious answer is that they were disheartened. Their lives are at their lowest point. They are sad and confused. The one they had pinned their hopes on had been humiliated and crucified in a horrible way. How could such a disaster be anything but a total defeat? How could a Messiah, or Savior, allow himself to be beaten and put to death? In addition, the two disciples are probably terrorized, full of fear. The leaders of the people, both religious and political, had made their point. Anyone who rocks the boat and challenges authority will be dealt with swiftly and brutally. If the two were recognized as followers of Jesus, his fate could also be theirs. Let me share another story with you, a story which shows how expectations can color what we see and experience. ---------------------------------- A young man from a wealthy family was about to graduate from high school. It was the custom in his affluent neighborhood for the parents to give the graduate a car as a graduation present. Bill and his father spent months looking at cars, and the week before graduation they found the perfect one. Bill was certain that the car would be his on graduation night. Imagine Bill’s disappointment when, on the eve of the big day, his father handed him a gift-wrapped Bible! Bill was so angry, he hurled the Bible across the room and stormed out of the house, vowing never to return again. Bill and his father never saw each other again. Yet it was the news of his father’s death that brought Bill back home again. One night, as he sat going through his father’s possessions that he was to inherit, Bill came across the Bible that his father had given him. He brushed away the dust and opened it to find a cashier’s check, dated the day of his graduation—for the exact amount of the car they had chosen together. ------------------------------- As the scoutmaster said, “You are born to look, but you have to learn to see.” What does today’s gospel passage want us to learn to see? One obvious answer is that the privileged place to encounter Jesus is in the celebration of the Eucharist, or Mass. In the gospel Jesus does two things: he interprets the Scriptures and how they apply to him; and he “breaks bread” with the two disciples. We thus have the two halves of the Mass: the liturgy of the word and the liturgy of the Eucharist. The Bible is telling us where to look, and it is teaching us to learn to see. Like the cashier’s check in the Bible, Jesus’ presence is not always obvious or straightforward. So, where and how should we look? The first place is the Bible. We need to take time to read God’s word slowly, savor it, and allow it to speak to us. If you are having difficulty, a commentary will help. Turning to those who know the Bible better that we do, and asking for clarifications and advice, will also help. The second place of encounter with Jesus is the Eucharist. The mystery of Emmaus is that the disciples recognize Jesus in the “breaking of bread,” which was one of the phrases used for the celebration of the Eucharist. Try to enter the Mystery more and more by giving yourself totally, without distractions, to each part of the Mass. Savor what it means to gather with open minds and hearts; to listen to the message of Scripture, the inspired word of God; to take the message of the homily home with you and reflect on it; to ask for forgiveness and to pray for peace; to intercede for our needs and the needs of the whole world; to receive our Lord mindfully, and not just hurry through the motions. Finally, in the Emmaus story, Jesus approaches his people who are depressed, disappointed and broken-hearted. At first, they do not recognize him. But as they listen more and more, their hearts start to burn within them. So, another way to experience the presence of Jesus Christ is to do as he did, to find value in what he taught and how he acted. He clearly said that he could be found in the poor and vulnerable: I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me drink; I was naked, and you clothed me; I was ill, or in prison, or lonely, and you visited me. Today’s gospel gives us a blueprint for encountering Jesus and feeling his presence. But we have to give ourselves to it wholeheartedly. We were born to look, but we have to learn how to see. The Bible has a treasure in it, and it’s not a cashier’s check. The Eucharist has a presence in it, and it’s something more than bread. The people around us are children of God. They have a spark of the divine within them. We were born to look, but we have to learn how to see.

Homily for the Second Sunday of Easter April 12, 2026

By Charlene Currie • April 25, 2026
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