Up the Mountain, Into Mission | 2nd Sunday of Lent

Each year on the Second Sunday of Lent, the Church leads us up a mountain.

In Book of Genesis, we see Abram standing at the edge of everything familiar. God says to him: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.” There is no map. No guarantees. Only a promise: “I will bless you… and you shall be a blessing.” Abram goes. He entrusts his future to the voice of God.

In Second Letter to Timothy, Saint Paul speaks to a young disciple who is tempted by fear and discouragement: “Bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God.” Paul reminds him—and us—that we have been called “not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus.”

Then, in Gospel of Matthew, Jesus leads Peter, James, and John up Mount Tabor. There, before their eyes, He is transfigured. His face shines like the sun. His clothes become white as light. The Law and the Prophets—represented by Moses and Elijah—stand beside Him. And the Father’s voice declares: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.”

Lent is our journey from familiar ground to holy ground.

Like Abram, we are called to leave something behind during our Lenten observance. Maybe it is a sin we have grown comfortable with. Maybe it is resentment, fear, complacency, or self-reliance. God’s command is gentle but firm: “Go forth”. Leave the familiar, and perhaps, the smallness of your old life. Trust that I can lead you to something greater. That setting forth into something new is not without challenge.

Like Timothy, we are reminded that discipleship involves hardship. Lent is not merely about giving things up, or testing our ability to endure heroic sacrifice; it is about sharing in the pattern of Christ’s life. Lent is about making the pattern of Christ’s Life, Death and Resurrection our own. The cross stands in the distance even as we climb the mountain of Transfiguration. But Paul assures us that grace precedes us. We are not saved because we are strong; we are strengthened because we are saved.

And like Peter, James, and John, we are given moments of light. Notice this: the Transfiguration happens before the Passion. Jesus reveals His glory before the darkness of Calvary. Why? Because He knows His disciples will need that memory of light when they face the scandal of the cross.

God does the same for us. He gives us moments—perhaps in prayer, perhaps in the Eucharist, perhaps in reconciliation—when His presence becomes luminous. A peace we cannot explain. A clarity that settles the heart. A sudden awareness that we are deeply loved. These are our “Mount Tabor” experiences.

But we cannot stay there. Peter wants to build three tents. He wants to preserve the moment. Yet Jesus leads them back down the mountain. The glory was not meant to be contained; it was meant to strengthen them for the journey.

Lent teaches us that the Christian life moves in rhythm: call, climb, glory, descent, mission. Abram leaves and becomes a blessing. Timothy suffers and becomes a witness. The apostles behold glory and then walk toward Jerusalem. And what about us?

Perhaps God is calling you this Lent to step into a deeper trust. To forgive someone. To begin again after failure. To pray even when you feel nothing. To listen—truly listen—to the beloved Son. The Father’s command on the mountain is simple: “Listen to him.” Not to the noise of the world. Not to the voice of fear. Not to the lie that you are unworthy or beyond hope. Listen to Him.

For in Christ, as Paul says, death has been destroyed and life and immortality brought to light. The Transfiguration is not merely a spectacle of light; it is a revelation of our destiny. What shines in Christ is what God desires to shine in us.

Lent is about removing whatever prevents Christ’s light from radiating through us. So let us climb the mountain in prayer. Let us leave behind what binds us. Let us accept the challenges and hardships of discipleship with courage. When we glimpse His glory, let us receive it with gratitude—but be willing to carry it back down into a world that desperately needs light.

For the same God who called Abram, strengthened Timothy, and revealed His Son in glory now calls us by name. And if we listen, and if we trust, we too shall become a blessing.

May God give you His Peace!