
Fr. Joe Dailey
Fr. Joe Dailey Sunday Homily
Fr. Joe Dailey
Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent, C
Rudolph Otto defined the sacred as “mysterium tremendum et fascinans” —a fearful and fascinating mystery. That mysterious Other who draws us almost irresistibly, at the same time fills us with awe and even dread.
I have Mass on Sunday, March 16
at St. Isidore, 7:30/9:30 am
at St. Andrew, 5:00 pm
the 7:30 am Mass will be live-streamed https://stisidore.church/worship-online/
frjoedailey@gmail.com
A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Luke.
Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray. 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 Eliah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus that he was going to accomplish in Jerusalem. Peter and his companions had been overcome by sleep, but becoming fully awake, they saw his glory and the two men standing with him.
As they were about to part from him, Peter said to Jesus, "Master, it is good that we are here. Let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Eliah." But he did not know what he was saying.
While he was still speaking, a cloud came and cast a shadow over them, and they became frightened when they entered the cloud. Then 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. They fell silent and did not at that time tell anyone what they had seen.
The Gospel of the Lord.
You may know Sebastian Junger, the author of the book, "The Perfect Storm," which later became a movie. At the age of 58, athletic and otherwise healthy, Junger experienced his very own perfect storm. He and his wife were in a cabin in the woods with no cell reception. It was a long hike from the road, and they were more than an hour from the nearest hospital. Suddenly, he was blindsided by extreme abdominal pain.
In his new book, "In My Time of Dying," Junger documents what happened when a bulge in his pancreatic artery ruptured and eventually spewed most of the blood in his body into his abdominal area.
As the doctors were frantically trying to stabilize him, he writes, "I became aware of a dark pit below me and to my left. It exerted a pull that was slow but unanswerable, and I knew that if I went into the hole, I was never coming back."
The morning after he didn't die, a nurse asked him, "How are you doing?" "I'm okay," I lied, "but I can't believe I almost died last night. It's terrifying." She considered me for a moment. Instead of thinking of it as something scary, try thinking of it as something sacred. Later, when he returned to the hospital and tried to find that nurse, no one in the hospital had any idea who it might have been.
I'm fascinated by this mysterious wisdom figure who suggests a slight change of view, rearrange two letters, and see what has scared you might in fact be the sacred.
Rudolf Otto defined the sacred as "mysterium tremendous et fascinans, a fearful and fascinating mystery. That mysterious other who draws us almost irresistibly at the same time fills us with awe and even dread."
In Exodus 3, when God called to Moses from the burning bush, Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.
In Luke 5, which we read just a few weeks ago, Jesus came to the Sea of Galilee and found some fishermen who had fished all night with nothing to show for it. When they obeyed Jesus' command to cast the net on the other side, the catch of fish was so overwhelming it nearly sank the boat. When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man."
By faith, Abraham obeyed when God called him to set out for a place that he was to receive as an inheritance, and he set out, not knowing where he was going. God promised that Abram would be the father of a great nation, but at the beginning of today's reading from Genesis, Abram is still childless. God called Abram outside and said, "Look up at the sky and count the stars if you can." Just so, he added, "Will your descendants be?"
Next, after Abram prepares the animals for the covenant ritual, the narrator continues, "As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him."
Do you see what just happened? If the sun is just setting, that means God brought Abram outside the tent during the day. Who's able to count any stars in the daytime? The stars, like Abram's yet-to-be-born descendants, are completely invisible.
In commenting on Abraham's faith, the author of Hebrews writes, "Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." Faith, by definition, implies a paradoxical darkness. The closer we get to God in this life, the more God seems to disappear, because overpowering light can seem like darkness.
On the mountain, a cloud of glory overshadows Jesus, just as the cloud, God's glory, or Shekinah, overshadowed the tabernacle in Exodus, chapter 40. The Feast of Tabernacles, or tents, celebrates God's tabernacling among the children of Israel during their 40 years in the wilderness. God's presence led them as a cloud of smoke by day, and as a pillar of fire by night. But in Exodus 40, when the cloud settled on the tabernacle, Moses was not allowed to enter. He could only go in when the cloud was lifted. So do you see why the disciples became frightened when they entered the cloud?
With Jesus, they are on the inside of the glory now. Jesus is the tabernacle, and the disciples can enter the cloud with him. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, "This is my chosen Son. Listen to him. This is the one I have chosen. From now on, all his words will be my words. God is now speaking to us on the horizontal, human level. We live together on this earth with the deep awareness that our citizenship is in heaven.
"Be content that you are not yet a saint," Thomas Merton writes, "even though you realize that the only thing worth living for is sanctity. Then you will be satisfied to let God lead you to sanctity by paths that you cannot understand.
You will travel in darkness, in which you will no longer be concerned with yourself, and no longer compare yourself to other people. Those who have gone by that way have finally found out that sanctity is in everything, and that God is all around them. They suddenly wake up and find that the joy of God is everywhere."