Lent II

The Second Sunday of Lent

Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 33; 2 Timothy 1:8b-10; Matthew 17:1-9

A father runs alongside a daughter keeping his hand on her shoulder as she learns to ride a bike. A hand reaches out to hold the hand of a grieving family member at a graveside burial. A person sits shoulder to shoulder to listen to a friend’s sadness, inner questions, or silence. A priest embraces with a comforting arm around the shoulders a confessing penitent. Holding hands at the bedside of the sick or dying. A mentor places both hands on the shoulders of their mentee before they embark on an initial experience. A mother’s embrace and kiss as she leaves her child at college.

Does anything banish our fears more completely than a simple, human touch?

“The disciples fell prostrate and were very much afraid. But Jesus came and touched them…” And the touch conveyed, and conveyed more deeply than his words ever could, “Do not be afraid.” How powerful human touch can be to express what words feebly convey.

Jesus stretches out his hand and touched the person with leprosy. He entered the house and reached out for the hand of Peter’s mother-in-law and the fever left her. What was the feeling within the disciples as they felt Jesus’ hands wash and dry their feet? Jesus took the child by the hand. She who was thought to be dead was alive. Jesus put his fingers into the man’s ears and, spitting, touched his tongue. People brought children to Jesus who embraced and blessed them, placing his hands on them.

How often were people, by simply touching the edge of Jesus’ garment, healed? What was conveyed by the disciples when they embraced the feet of the resurrected Christ?

Regrettably we live in a time when we are keenly aware of the emotional and psychological damage that can be done to a person by touch that is offered with a malevolent intent. But we should not let that cause us to reject or fear the depth of support, healing and strength that can be conveyed through human touch.

How often have you experienced God coming to you in brilliant clouds of mystery or a thundering voice from heaven? These forms of God’s dealings seem to always cause fear. They did for Israel in Egypt and throughout the desert journey, and for Mary, Joseph and the shepherds we are told in the Christmas stories. They did for Peter, James and John on this day of Jesus’ transfiguration.

How do you primarily experience God’s presence, encouragement and strength?

Since God’s glory and power, majesty and magnificence are too much for us, how best might God then be revealed to us in Jesus?  We might ask, as Jesus may have; what did his disciples need? What do we as disciples need from Jesus? Might the true mystery of the transfiguration not have been seeing Jesus as light but experiencing a human hand stretched out with comfort so that both Jesus and we are transfigured? Isn’t that want the disciples really needed versus a supernatural light show? Isn’t that what we need in life; an experience that someone cares about us?

God’s hopes for us communicated in ordinary human touch. God coming to us quietly and gently so that we may draw near and not be afraid.

Do we take note that there are people in the world who want to help us? Often in inconspicuous ways: a phone call sincerely inquiring how we are doing, a word of encouragement, a supportive note, a quiet presence at an event, a word that someone notices we are in need of an listening ear. Might we begin to take note that they are God’s presence who in quiet, unassuming, and gentle ways dispel our fears and strengthen us?

A father runs alongside a daughter…

A hand reaches out at the graveside…

A friend sits shoulder to shoulder…

A priest-confessor embraces with a comforting arm…

Sitting at a bedside holding hands…

A mentor placing both hands on shoulders….

A mother’s embrace and kiss…

God in Jesus transfigured.