2nd Sunday of Lent B February 25, 2024

2 nd Sunday of Lent B

February 25, 2024

 

When this old world starts a getting me down

And people are just too much for me to face

I climb right up to the top of the stairs

And all my cares just drift into space.

On the roof, its peaceful and can be

And there the world below can’t bother me

The Drifters

 

Going up to high places is an old method to get away from life’s concerns.

Many like to climb to the top of the stairs, or on top of mountain peaks.

The problem is that we need to come down again and face what we left in the lower places.

 

In today’s scriptures, we find Abraham, Isaac, Jesus, Peter, James, and John climbing onto mountain tops.  These are places where they receive messages from God.

In our first reading, we hear how Abraham and his son Isaac go to the mountain top to make an offering to God.  One can only imagine what the trip down the mountain and the days to follow will be like.

Benjamin Brittan puts words in the mouth of Abraham and Isaac in his Canticle II.

Isaac: Father, I am full sore afeared
To see you bear that drawn sword.

Abraham: Isaac, son, peace, I pray thee,
Thou breakest my heart even in three.

Isaac: I pray you, father, layn† nothing from me,
But tell me what you think.

Abraham: Ah! Isaac, Isaac, I must thee kill!

Isaac: Alas! Father, is that your will,
Your owne child for to spill
Upon this hilles brink?
If I have trespassed in any degree
With a yard you may beat me;
Put up your sword, if your will be,
For I am but a child.
Would God my mother were here with me!
She would kneel down upon her knee,
Praying you, father, if it may be,
For to save my life.

I would like to ask the same question Isaac asks, “Where is the mother? Where is Sarah?”  Did Abraham not consult the mother of his son?  Did Abraham decide on his own, to sacrifice his son?  Both Abraham and Isaac will be very quiet coming down off the mountain. Isaac will withdraw from his father and Sarah will comfort her son. Abraham will be left to wonder what this challenge from his God meant.   We are left with some of the same questions. Why would a God ask for the sacrifice of one’s own son?  This is the son who lived out the promise of descendants as numerous as the stars.  Many have tried to explain this riddle, Many greater than I.  This could be a homily for another time and place.

The second mountain is the Mt of Transfiguration.  Jesus takes his closest companions up the mountain to pray, and they have a vision of him in glory with Moses and Elijah.   Both companions speak of the promises of God to the people.  Jesus tells the companions to tell no one of the vision.  This vision will feed them as they face the challenges awaiting them in Jerusalem.

For Abraham, Isaac, Sarah, Jesus, Peter, James, and John the problem with mountain tops and roofs is that one needs to come down.  Abraham, Isaac, and Sarah are left with feelings of sorrow over the possible loss of a son and a God who demands such a sacrifice. Jesus and the apostles come off the mountain to go to Jerusalem, a place that offers passion and death. (The transfiguration may point to the resurrection, but they do not know about that yet.)

The same is true for us we can go to the roof or the mountain, and for a time we find release from life’s troubles and woes, but we come back down to face the slings and arrows of our life.

In these days of Lent, we face our struggles and invite God to speak with us on our mountain and provide a vision of hope as we come down the mountain.

Many will gather on Easter morning on a mount to watch the sun rise. As they climb the mount the night is dark, cold, and damp. In time the horizon reveals a patch of red and soon the sky is full of light. The night is ended and as they return to meet the day, they take with them the vision of the morning sun to reassure them that all will be well.  The time on the mount changes the time spent in the valley.

Or in the words of the Drifters:

Right smack dab in the middle of town
I've found a paradise that's trouble proof (up on the roof)
And if this world starts getting you down
There's room enough for two

Up on the roof (up on the roof)
Up on the roof (up on the roof)
Oh, come on, baby (up on the roof)
Oh, come on, honey (up on the roof)
Everything is all right (up on the roof)

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A

By Rev. Christopher Welch • January 18, 2026
Now that we are beyond the Christmas season, we are returning to normal. In our first reading, Isaiah reminds us that we are servants. In this new year of grace, we are called to be servants. We are learning about humility; being humble means thinking less of myself and more of others. Is this what it means to be a servant? We hear the words of Isaiah as we begin the annual week of Christian unity. It is wonderful that men and women from different denominations can come together in prayer. This afternoon many will gather to remember the life and witness of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a true servant to the mission of justice for all God’s people. Dr. King was a Christian who acted as a servant to the kingdom of God. Dr. King was a dreamer who shared his dream with the world. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream . . . I have a dream that one day in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today . . . This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning. “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountain side, let freedom ring.” And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. Being a servant of the gospel means being a dreamer who works to make the dream a reality. With our brothers and sisters of many faiths, we are servants of the kingdom of God. Like John the Baptist, we prepare the way for the coming of God’s kingdom. Each one of us, have been baptized and received the gift of the Holy Spirit. With the spirit to help us we are servants of the kingdom of God.

The Epiphany of the Lord, Year A

By Fr. Christopher Welch • January 4, 2026
 From Pope Leo’s Christmas homily: “For millennia, across the earth, peoples have gazed up at the sky, giving names to the silent stars, and seeing images therein. In their imaginative yearning, they tried to read the future in the heavens, seeking on high for a truth that was absent below amidst their homes. Yet, as if grasping in the dark, they remained lost, confounded by their own oracles. On this night, however, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined” (Isaiah 9:2). Behold the star that astonishes the world, a spark newly lit and blazing with life: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:11). Into time and space — in our midst — comes the One without whom we would not exist. He who gives his life for us lives among us, illuminating the night with his light of salvation. There is no darkness that this star does not illumine, for by its light all humanity beholds the dawn of a new and eternal life.” Stars are what this season of Christmas is all about. We look at the night sky and see the stars that remind us of the nativity of our Lord. At night God comes to speak to us in dreams. Sometimes the dreams tell what to do as they did for Joseph and the Magi. The star in today’s celebration is a star that points out the birth of the Christ child. Each child is born with a divine spark. Each human person has the dignity of being a child of God. I am reminded of the words of Leonard Bernstein. He calls his poem Greeting : “When a boy is born, the world is born again and takes its first breath with him. When a girl is born the world stops turning round and keeps a moment hushed wonder. Every time a child is born, for the space of that brief instant, the world is pure." This time of year, we celebrate the birth of our God. The stars on our trees remind us of our connection with our God. The words of Frost are appropriate here: O Star (the fairest one in sight), We grant your loftiness the right To some obscurity of cloud— It will not do to say of night, Since dark is what brings out your light. Some mystery becomes the proud. But to be wholly taciturn In your reserve is not allowed. Say something to us we can learn By heart and when alone repeat. Say something! And it says, ‘I burn.’ But say with what degree of heat. Talk Fahrenheit, talk Centigrade. Use language we can comprehend. Tell us what elements you blend. It gives us strangely little aid, But does tell something in the end. And steadfast as Keats’ Eremite, Not even stooping from its sphere, It asks a little of us here. It asks of us a certain height, So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid. Like Mary, we ponder all these things in our heart. As we begin this new year, we are to be like the star who ponders all things. Sometimes it will mean to burn, it will not always be clear, but with the heart of Christ to guide us we will make sense of it. On this New Year's Day, we look to the stars and ponder what this Christmas 2025 has meant to us.

Christmas Day, Year A

By Deacon Paul Cerosaletti • December 25, 2025
Isaiah prophesied: The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. (Is 9:1) John the Evangelist wrote: ...the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it…(Jn 1:5) The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world (Jn 1:9) And Jesus said: ...I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life…(Jn 8:12) Beginning with Isaiah’s prophecy of the Light of Emmanuel — God-with-us — some 2,800 years ago, through to Christ’s entry into this world of darkness in Bethlehem as the Child of Light, to his ministry of Light and Life, and racing through the millennia to us today throughout the world, to us here in St. Mary’s parish, to the family whose children were baptized at St. Mary’s this past weekend: The True Light of the World, the Dayspring from on high, the One Morning Star that never sets, the Word who existed in the beginning with God and who, from the beginning, was God, Jesus Christ the Light continually breaks into the darkness of our world and dark nights of our lives. At each Christmas, in the dark night of the world, we celebrate the daybreak of the Light of Christ coming into the world. At each Easter, we celebrate the breaking forth of the Light and Life of the Resurrected Christ from the darkness of the tomb of sin and death. And at each baptism, we recall and celebrate both, as we light the baptismal candle from the Paschal candle (that is, the Christ Candle) and say to the newly baptized, “Receive the Light of Christ.” We then give the parents and godparents, but frankly all of us , a solemn charge: This light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. This child…has been enlightened by Christ. [They are] to walk always as a child of the light. We are to walk not only as children of God enlightened by Christ, but we are to walk also — each one of us — as bearers of Christ and His Light into the world. We can each bear a torch of the Christ Light as we walk with one another through the dark valleys of the night of each other’s lives, illuminating the darkened path for our sisters or brothers, walking with them as long as we can, until another bearer of Christ’s Light joins us to journey with them further. Never underestimate the brightness of Christ’s Light in the smallest of actions, a kind word or simple deed. In fact, St. Mother Teresa of Kolkata counselled that the smallest of our actions may be infused with the brightest light of love. She said: Don’t look for the big things, just do small things with great love…the smaller the thing, the greater must be our love. And never forget that a light appears as its brightest in the deepest dark of night. The Christ Light in the smallest of our actions may be the brightest light in the darkest part of the night of someone's life. My sisters and brothers, the Light of Christ has been entrusted to us to be kept burning brightly, not for ourselves alone, but for the life of the world. Let us walk with one another, sharing the Christ-Light entrusted to us with each other and with the world outside the walls of this Church!