My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

On this Second Sunday of Lent, the Church takes us up a mountain. In the First Reading, Abram hears a call that changes everything: “Leave your country, your kindred and your father’s house, and go to the land that I will show you.” This was not written as a romantic story of adventure. It was addressed to a people who themselves had known displacement and exile. Israel needed to remember that faith begins not with certainty but with trust. Abram is not given a map. He is given a promise.

In the Gospel, Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain. There, before their eyes, Jesus is transfigured. His face shines like the sun; His clothes become dazzling white. Moses and Elijah appear, representing the Law and the Prophets. And from the cloud comes the Father’s voice saying, “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.” Matthew writes this for a community under pressure, a Church facing misunderstanding and hostility. They needed reassurance that the Jesus who would soon suffer and die was truly the Son of God. The Transfiguration is not an escape from reality rather it is a revelation given before the cross so that faith will not collapse when darkness comes.

This speaks powerfully into our own time. Many people today are weary. There is uncertainty about the future, economic strain, moral confusion and a sense that public life is fragmented. Faith can feel fragile in such a situation. Like Abram, we are often asked to move forward without seeing the whole picture. Like the disciples, we may be tempted to cling to moments of consolation and avoid the difficult road. Peter’s instinct is understandable and he says, “Lord, it is good for us to be here.” He wants to build tents, to preserve the moment and to remain on the mountain. But Jesus leads them back down. The glory is real but it is not the final destination. The path to Easter still runs through Calvary.

Lent is not about chasing spiritual highs instead it is about learning to trust God in both light and shadow. The Father’s command is simple and searching, “Listen to him.” In a culture filled with competing voices like the media, opinion, ideology and endless commentary, the challenge is discernment. Whom do we listen to? What shapes our conscience? What forms our choices? To listen to Christ today means allowing His words to challenge our assumptions. It means hearing His call to forgiveness when resentment feels justified. It means taking seriously His concern for the poor, the excluded and the forgotten. It means choosing integrity in work, fidelity in relationships and patience in disagreement. These are not dramatic gestures but they are the daily acts of discipleship that shape a Christian life.

The call of Abram also confronts us. It says, “Leave… and go.” Lent always involves a leaving. Leaving behind habits that dull the soul. Leaving patterns of speech that wound others. Leaving complacency in prayer. God does not ask us to abandon our responsibilities but He does ask us to move beyond what is merely comfortable. For our parish communities, this may mean becoming more attentive to those on the margins. It may mean renewing our commitment to prayer not as duty but as relationship. It may mean supporting one another when faith feels costly. The Transfiguration reminds us that Christ’s glory is not absent from our world; it is often hidden, waiting to be recognised.

In the 2^nd reading, St Paul writes to Timothy, urging him not to be ashamed of the Gospel but to rely on God’s grace. That encouragement remains relevant in our age and time. Public witness can feel uncomfortable in a society that often sees faith as private or outdated. Yet the light glimpsed on the mountain assures us that following Christ is not foolishness. It is participation in something eternal. As we continue our Lenten journey, may we allow ourselves to be led even when the way is unclear. May we listen more deeply to the voice of the Son. And when we descend from the mountain into ordinary life, may the quiet memory of His glory strengthen us to walk faithfully until the fullness of Easter light is revealed. Amen.