God is Listening

    Two dramatic scenes are narrated to us today. First, God seals the covenant with Abram by appearing as smoke and fire and passing between the animals Abram had sacrificed as a sign of his covenant with God. In the Gospel, Jesus is transfigured in glory, his face and clothing changing in appearance and dazzling the three apostles who witnessed it. Adding to the drama, God the Father speaks from the cloud that envelops them all, saying, "This is my chosen Son; listen to him."

    Perhaps you have heard of the man who wanted to test his wife's hearing. He stood some distance behind her and said, "Honey, can you hear me?" Having received no answer he moved closer and again whispered, "Honey, can you hear me?" Again having received no answer he moved right up behind her and softly said, "Honey can you hear me?" She replied, "For the third time, yes!"

    In some ways this story could be analogous of our communication with God. We constantly check to see if he is listening in hopes that he will respond to our needs. In reality, he hears us, but he has asked us to listen to him as well. Lent should be a listening time for each of us. When we learn to listen, our lives become obedient lives.

    At the close of the Transfiguration scene described in today's Gospel the three apostles hear the word of God from the cloud, "This is my beloved Son, listen to him."

    In his autobiography, Out of My Life and Thought Albert Schweitzer said that one of the main things his parents did for him as a child was to take him to worship services, even though he was too young to understand much of what was going on. He claimed it is not important that children understand everything. What is important is "that they shall feel something of what is serious and solemn..."

    Can you see Peter, James, and John as they contemplated what it meant to be in the presence not only of Jesus but also Elijah and Moses, and then on top of all that, to hear the Voice of God as well? No wonder they were silent! Here was dust encountering Divinity, the temporal in the presence of the eternal, the imperfect face to face with Holiness itself. How we need such experiences today! Such experiences demand silence. In that silence, however, there is power.