Genesis 12:1-4a
2 Timothy 1:8b-10
Matthew 17:1-9
OVERVIEW OF THE READINGS
The readings present a unified vision of God’s saving plan: Abram is called to leave all security and trust in God’s promise, a covenant meant to bless all nations. This divine initiative reaches fulfilment in Christ, who calls believers to a holy life sustained by grace even amid suffering. In the Transfiguration, Jesus reveals his glory to strengthen his disciples to face the coming cross with hope in the resurrection. Together, the readings show that God calls us from comfort into mission, sustains us through trials, and leads us toward transformation and promised glory, especially during the Lenten journey of conversion.
REFLECTION
My dear People of God, the first reading from Genesis introduces us to Abram at a turning point that would change not only his own destiny but the destiny of the world. God’s command is both simple and radical: “Go forth from your land, your relatives, and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.” In the ancient Near Eastern context, identity, protection, inheritance, and survival were inseparable from one’s clan and territory. To leave them was to become vulnerable, exposed, and uncertain of the future. Abram receives no detailed explanation, no visible plan, and no assurance of immediate success. He is given only a promise — that God will make of him a great nation and that through him all the families of the earth will be blessed.
This moment teaches us that faith begins not with clarity but with trust. Abram must abandon what he can see in order to receive what he cannot yet see. The Letter to the Hebrews later praises him because he obeyed and set out “not knowing where he was going,” trusting in the faithfulness of the One who called him. Faith, therefore, is not mere optimism or emotional enthusiasm; it is a deliberate act of entrusting oneself to God’s word even when circumstances offer no guarantees.
In our own Ghanaian context, similar stories of courageous obedience abound. One catechist, after many years of stable employment in a flourishing urban parish, discerned a call to serve in a remote rural mission. There was no permanent church structure, little financial support, and few prospects for comfort. Friends advised him against leaving his secure position. Yet he believed that God was calling him through the needs of the Church. He went, sustained by prayer and trust. Over time, the mission matured into a vibrant parish with a permanent church building, schools, lay associations, and vocations to the priesthood and religious life. What began as apparent loss became a source of blessing for many. His journey mirrors that of Abram: relinquishing security in order to participate in God’s larger plan.
Abram’s response in Scripture is remarkably concise: “Abram went as the LORD directed him.” No hesitation, no negotiation, no demand for proof is recorded. His obedience is concrete and immediate. The Fathers of the Church saw in Abram a prototype of Christian discipleship. Saint Augustine noted that Abram trusted not in the destination but in the God who promised it (The City of God, Book XVI, chapter 12). Lent invites each of us to ask a similar question: What attachments, habits, or fears must I leave behind in order to follow God more faithfully? For some, it may be resentment that poisons relationships; for others, complacency in prayer; for still others, patterns of injustice or dishonesty. Conversion always involves departure from something that binds us so that we may walk freely with God.
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ, the second reading from 2 Timothy shifts our focus from the beginning of the journey to the perseverance required to continue it. Saint Paul, writing from prison and facing the possibility of martyrdom, encourages his disciple Timothy not to be ashamed of the testimony to our Lord but to share in suffering for the Gospel, relying on the power of God. Paul emphasises that salvation is rooted not in human merit but in God’s eternal purpose and grace, given in Christ before time began and now revealed through his appearing.
This teaching is deeply consoling because it reminds us that the Christian vocation does not depend solely on our personal strength. Human resolve, however sincere, is fragile. Trials, disappointments, and fatigue can easily overwhelm us. But grace — God’s own life poured into our hearts — sustains us beyond what we could achieve alone. Paul proclaims that Christ has “destroyed death and brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel.” This means that suffering and death, though still real, are no longer ultimate. They have been transformed into passages that lead to life.
We see this truth lived out in countless hidden acts of fidelity. Consider a chaplain who continued ministering to the sick during a time of intense strain on the health system. The work was exhausting, emotionally draining, and often unrecognised. Yet he remained faithful, drawing strength from daily prayer and the sacraments. When asked how he endured, he replied that it was not personal heroism but God’s grace sustaining him day by day. His experience illustrates Paul’s conviction that perseverance flows from divine strength, not from self-reliance.
Saint John Chrysostom taught that Christ has transformed the very meaning of death, changing it from a fearful end into a passage to life, since by his resurrection he “destroyed death” and stripped it of its terror (Homilies on First Corinthians, Homily 41 on 1 Cor 15). This conviction strengthened the martyrs and continues to sustain believers who endure suffering today — whether illness, persecution, loneliness, or the hidden burdens of ordinary life. Lent therefore invites us to live in this hope: not as a season of dark resignation, but as a time of courageous trust that God’s grace is at work even amid hardship.
Dearly beloved, the Gospel reading from Matthewleads us to the summit of this spiritual journey — the mountain of the Transfiguration. Shortly after foretelling his Passion, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John apart and reveals his glory before them. His face shines like the sun, his garments become dazzling white, and he converses with Moses and Elijah. A luminous cloud overshadows them, and the voice of the Father proclaims, “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.”
Every element of this event is rich with meaning. Moses represents the Law and Elijah the Prophets, indicating that the entire history of Israel points towards and is fulfilled in Jesus. The radiant cloud recalls God’s presence with Israel in the wilderness and on Mount Sinai. Above all, the Father’s command to listen to the Son establishes Jesus as the definitive revelation of God’s will.
The disciples had been profoundly disturbed by Jesus’ prediction of his suffering and death, and the Transfiguration was granted to strengthen them in advance. In that radiant moment they glimpsed that the one who would be humiliated and crucified is also the eternal Son who shares the Father’s glory, and that the cross would not be the final word. As Leo the Greatexplains, the Lord revealed his hidden splendour so that the disciples’ faith would not collapse when they later saw him arrested and crucified (Sermon 51 [On the Transfiguration], 3–4).
Moments of spiritual illumination continue to play a similar role in Christian life. A seminarian once described how a silent retreat during a period of doubt brought him profound peace in prayer. He did not receive detailed answers about the future, but he experienced renewed trust in Christ. That memory sustained him through subsequent trials. God sometimes grants such experiences not as permanent states but as strengthening for the journey ahead.
Peter’s reaction — proposing to build three tents — expresses a universal human desire to prolong moments of consolation. We would like to remain on the mountaintop, where God’s presence feels unmistakable. Yet Jesus does not allow this. He leads the disciples back down into the valley, where suffering, confusion, and ultimately the Passion await. Authentic faith does not consist in clinging to spiritual highs but in carrying their light into the ordinary struggles of life.
Communities as well as individuals experience this pattern. A parish that welcomed displaced families initially felt great enthusiasm and unity. Over time, practical challenges arose: financial strain, cultural differences, fatigue among volunteers. Through sustained prayer and commitment, the community persevered, and the presence of the newcomers enriched the parish spiritually and culturally. What began as a generous response matured into a deeper experience of Christian solidarity. This mirrors the movement from Transfiguration to mission: encouragement given so that faithful service may continue when enthusiasm fades.
The Transfiguration assures us that suffering, sacrifice, and apparent failure do not have the final word. Glory is real, though often hidden, and it is promised to those who remain faithful to Christ. Lent trains us to walk this path with confidence. Through prayer, fasting, and works of charity, we learn to listen more attentively to the beloved Son and to conform our lives to his.
THE REFLECTION IN A NUTSHELL
The reflection centres on the three Sunday readings to illustrate the journey of faith as a call to trust, perseverance, and hope. Abram’s example teaches that faith requires abandoning visible security to trust in God’s promise, a lesson mirrored in the story of a Ghanaian catechist who left comfort for a rural mission. The second reading from Timothy reminds us that perseverance in this journey relies not on human strength but on God’s sustaining grace, which has transformed suffering into a passage to life. The Transfiguration Gospel provides the summit of this journey, offering the disciples a glimpse of Christ’s glory to strengthen them for the coming Passion. Like Peter, we are tempted to cling to spiritual highs, but authentic faith carries that light back into the struggles of ordinary life. Ultimately, Lent trains us to listen to the Beloved Son and to trust that God’s grace is at work even in hardship, leading us to the glory that awaits the faithful.
