If ever there were a gospel reading relevant for our times, we have it today. Jesus refers to two incidents which have caused a lot of discussion and, probably, confused many people.

One was a terrible act of non-sensical violence: Pilate had unscrupulously massacred a number of Galileans. The other was an accident which left a number of people dead. When these things happen, people start asking questions, demanding answers. Dealing with pain is never easy! Why and how? Whose fault is it? And, if no answer is to be found, one is conveniently made up. Very often this takes the form of blame and finger-pointing.

It was not uncommon for the people of Jesus’ time to conclude that, when someone becomes a victim of some incident, that person must have been guilty of something. Divine punishment can take many forms!

Jesus takes issue with this line of thought. If Pilate did that horrible act of violence, he is the one who has done wrong, not his victims. And if a tower (probably part of an aqueduct construction) collapsed, it could have possibly been due to human error in the construction, or perhaps merely an accident. But, certainly, one cannot blame the victims!

Jesus departs from these contemporary pieces of news to drive home a message. We are all in the same boat. We cannot group the world in two groups: “they” who are bad, and “us” who are good. We are all on a journey – a journey of constant conversion. If we’re not careful, Jesus tells us, we will “all perish”. In his typical matter-of fact manner, St Paul tells us “if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall”. Nobody is to be scandalized of another’s failure. No one is immune from falling.

Lent is a very apt reminder of all this. It is a journey that leads us to the celebration of Easter. Easter itself is a memorial of a journey: the journey of Israel from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the promised land. The Passover of the people of Israel which, in the person of Jesus, took a much deeper meaning.
As Christians, we are invited to participate in this journey of Jesus. Last Sunday we saw Moses and Elijah on the mountain talking with Jesus about his “Exodus”. It is, indeed, and exodus – a moving out from the darkness of sin and evil to the light of freedom and new life. In Jesus, everything takes on a new meaning.

In the Old Testament, it all started with the calling of Moses. God saw the people’s misery: God heard his people’s cry; God knew their sufferings. God is not indifferent. And throughout the whole story of the people’s exodus, God proved to always be present, even when the people thought he was absent. Our God is a God who is always present: “I AM” is his name. He is the God of the people’s ancestors: of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob. History has shown that he has always been with his people. There is no reason why he should fail them now.
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As we move on in our own journey, God may show us that we, too, have our own areas of darkness, our little masters that enslave us. With the help of prayer, and strengthened by the practices of fasting and almsgiving, lent is the ideal time when we can experience our own exodus. With God’s help, we too can experience the movement towards a freer, happier, more fulfilled life.

“It is good for us to be here”. This was Peter’s spontaneous expression on Mount Tabor as he witnessed the transfiguration of Jesus. Peter, the most spontaneous of them all. Peter, the one who always spoke what came out of his heart, before processing it through his mind. It is good, it is beautiful, it is wonderful. He could not help express his desire to keep enjoying the experience, as Jesus reveals himself for who he really is.

This is faith. This is faith, at least, as it is supposed to be. How often have we thought that faith is a matter of do’s and don’ts? How often have we been made to believe that faith is a burden, rather than joy? In Jesus’ presence, Peter discovers that it is good, it is beautiful.

A very short time before this experience, Jesus had told his friends that he was going to suffer passion, death, and then experience resurrection. Surely the disciples could not understand the meaning of all that. And yet, the little they could have understood – the passion and death bit; resurrection was something unheard of for them – they found very hard to accept. Moreover, we can also say that, through this experience, Jesus wanted to equip Peter, James and John for the passion-experience which was soon to come. In his foretelling, Jesus could not speak of death without making reference to the resurrection. And his oncoming death would not have made any sense without the resurrection. It is one whole event, and in the moment of darkness the disciple of Christ has to remember that there is always light and life waiting. And yet, talk of resurrection does not in any way deny the reality of suffering.

There are always moments of darkness to be lived in our lives, moments which challenge our faith which is very often taken for granted. As I write these reflections, I share the pain of many people who, in different ways, are going through darkness and suffering. On a global level, we have just witnessed the crash of an airplane killing 157 people. Within a few hours we’ve witnessed the terrorist attack in New Zealand, killing at least 49 people. These are not just numbers. For every victim there are friends, families, pained loved ones. On a more personal level then, I constantly witness stories of people who are going through darkness in their own lives: violence, failed marriages, death in the family, unexpected illnesses, etc. It is very easy to get disheartened in moments like this. It is very normal to start asking questions and, where faith had previously seemed so solid, now might feel all very shaky.

The story of the resurrection which we are about to celebrate at the end of this Lenten season, as does today’s story of Jesus’ transfiguration, helps us keep things in perspective. Moses and Elijah speaking with Jesus about his “exodus” which was about to happen on another hill in Jerusalem, emphasize the fact that he really had to suffer the consequences of evil. But these stories tell us that evil does not have the last word. The voice of evil is never the loudest voice.
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As we journey through our own desert during this lent, let us really listen to that voice saying: “This is my Son, listen to him!” And as we listen we start experiencing what Peter did in that short moment: it is good to be here. Let us really enjoy the beauty of his presence, of his word. Because without beauty, our soul dies.
 

The Desert. As we begin our Lenten journey which will take us up to the Easter celebrations, the Church invites us to spend some time in the desert first. Usually, when we embark on a journey, we get going to arrive at our destination as soon as possible. But here, apparently, there is no need to rush, no hurry. We have to stop, before we even begin!

The desert. That is where Jesus went, filled by the Holy Spirit, immediately following his baptism at John the Baptist’s hands in the Jordan. After thirty years, he was supposed to begin his public ministry. He should have been more than eager to get going with his mission. After all, there was a whole world to be saved! But being rushed is not God’s way of doing things. It was necessary that, after leaving his mother’s home, Jesus goes first through that desert-experience. There he would be alone, with himself, with his God, and with his demon! In the desert there are no distractions. There one has to focus on surviving, without having any of that which would have been called “normal” in everyday live. It is not easy, and it is no wonder that, as Luke tells us, there Jesus was tempted for forty days. That’s right, every single day of this desert experience was marked by temptation!

We do not know what kind of temptations these were. Maybe he was being tempted to get out of there, to get stuck into his ministry. Or perhaps to just do something more “constructive”. Whatever they were, at the end Luke presents us with the three main, final temptations.

“If you are the Son of God”, the devil tells Jesus in the first temptation. Our immediate response would have probably been an immediate “of course I am”, and prove it. But Jesus did not give in. In spite of the hunger, he knew that he would only take orders from the Father. After all, material possessions are not what is really indispensable. Then comes the temptation of power and glory. “I will give you everything”, the devil tells him. But Jesus knows that his knees should bend only before his God, from whom everything in reality comes. Jesus knows that, in truth, the devil could give him nothing. Finally Jesus is told to jump off the top of the temple, forcing God to do something about it then. Again, Jesus did not give in. He knew that God would not abandon him, but he also knew that God is not like a magic button to be pushed whenever one feels like it.

In the desert, Jesus had to make choices. Rather than being defeated, Jesus’ temptations in the desert highlight who he really is, where his focus is, and what are his priorities. If there was any doubt, things are much clearer now.

Like Jesus, we, too, are invited to move into the desert as we embark on our own journey.  There we have no choice but to leave everything behind. No phones, no TV, no internet. Just me with my very self and with my God. And there, of course, I am going to meet my own demons, as I cannot run away into my usual distractions of everyday life. Like Jesus, I have to make choices.

Often our temptations are not very different to those experienced by Jesus. Having more material possessions, more comfort, is always tempting. There is always a need, a hunger, that can be created. The desert helps me to know what is really indispensable and what is a created need. And who could say that he’s never been tempted by power and glory. It’s enough to see how we react when people speak bad against me, tarnish my glory, to understand how real this temptation is. And, finally, how often have we been tempted to make God do whatever we ask Him in our prayers, rather than pray that we humbly enter into God’s dream for us?
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Let us not be afraid to create some “desert-space” in our busy lives during this Lent. It helps us understand who we really are, what is really important for us, where our values lie. It helps create clarity in our lives.

I like the way Jesus speaks with his disciples. He is very straightforward, does not mince words, always says exactly what he means. In today’s gospel Jesus calls his disciples hypocrites! Here he’s not speaking to the Pharisees – that would have hardly surprised us! He’s talking to his disciples, his friends, some of whom were people whom he had personally singled out to follow him, people who had left literally everything to answer to this call. And yet, their way of living is, somehow, not consonant with the life of a true disciple.

If we are honest enough, it would not take us much effort to discover that there is a bit of this kind of hypocrite in each and every one of us. “Why do you notice the splinter in your brother's eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?” I hear Jesus telling me. And, as if this were not enough, he continues: “How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,' when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye?”

Listening to these words immediately made me think how often do I criticize and judge others. Yes, Jesus is right. It’s so easy to see the defect in someone else. Not only that. How often have I used the pretext of helping someone, “Brother, let me help you ….” to give the impression that I am better than he?

Jesus’ word is always challenging. It makes me think. It helps me understand. It makes me realize stuff that is in me which I might find uncomfortable to accept, and which otherwise I would probably have never admitted. And yet, this is the truth. We are all in the same boat. Each one of us has our own weaknesses, together with our own giftedness, I might add. Where we differ is the kind of weakness we have. But, in different ways, we are all like that blind man who cannot pretend to be able to lead his blind brother. Both lack something. One of them leading the other is a recipe for disaster!

In today’s gospel I find an invitation for humility. It is an invitation to have a good look at myself, without falling into the temptation of comparing myself with others. It’s between me and God. Yes, it is true, others around me do have their own defects, weaknesses, and problems – what Jesus calls “splinters” in one’s eye. But I have to look at my own. And, when I do that, I might be shocked to find that my splinter is, actually, as big as a beam!

Doing this is never meant to discourage me. On the contrary, acknowledging the truth about something is often the first necessary step for improvement. Having discovered, and accepted, the beam in my eye, I can, then, do something about it. Perhaps sometimes, I might think that is too big! That might be a reason why I had chosen to try not to see it in the first place. Trying to remove it is hard work. But, with Jesus, nothing is impossible. This is one of the reasons why St Paul insists so much on the resurrection of Jesus in his letters. “Where, O death, is your victory?” Paul cries out in today’s second reading. He does not deny the reality of death. But, with the Rising of Jesus, death has been defeated.
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With death, we can include our weaknesses, our sinfulness, whatever it is that, like a beam in our eye, hinders us from seeing everything clearly, through the eyes of God. Like death, these do exist. But, not unlike death, through Jesus’ resurrection they are defeated.