LENT AS A MOUNTAIN MOMENT

Homily for the Second Sunday in Lent, Year A

Fr. Ugochukwu Ugwoke, ISch

Genesis 12:1-4; Matthew 17:1-9; Matthew 17:1-9

Last Sunday, we reflected on Lent as a desert moment. The Gospel showed how Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness (Mt 4:1-11). The desert in Scripture is the place of stripping. It is where false securities die and the truth about our hunger is exposed. There, Christ confronted the tempter and refused to turn stones into bread, refused cheap glory, refused power without the Cross. 

On this Second Sunday of Lent, the readings show us another dimension: Lent is also a mountain moment - a sacred ascent where God reveals, calls, and transforms.

In today’s Gospel (Mt 17:1-9), Jesus takes Peter, James, and John “up a high mountain by themselves.” This detail is not accidental. In Scripture, mountains are places of divine disclosure. They are spaces of encounter where heaven bends toward earth. On the mountain, distractions fade and essentials remain. One does not casually wander onto a mountain; one climbs with intention. So too in Lent: we do not drift into holiness, we ascend toward it.

On that mountain, Jesus is transfigured. The Greek word metemorphōthē suggests a change that reveals inner reality. Christ does not become something new; He unveils who He truly is. His face shines like the sun; His garments become white as light. The glory hidden under ordinary flesh bursts forth. Moses and Elijah appear - the Law and the Prophets, testifying that all of salvation history converges in Him. Then the Father’s voice declares: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.”

Why on the mountain? The mountain is a place of revelation. Lent is a season where Christ desires to reveal Himself more deeply to us - not merely as teacher or miracle worker, but as the beloved Son in whom the Father is well pleased. To climb the Lenten mountain is to allow our vision of Christ to be purified and elevated. Revelation requires elevation, to see clearly, one must rise above, and to hear deeply, one must step aside. 

Lent invites us to this ascent. It calls us not only into the desert of self-denial, but onto the mountain of contemplation. Prayer, silence, Mass, Eucharistic adoration - these are our mountain moments, our steps upward. And just as no one leaves the desert unchanged, no one leaves the mountain the same. The mountain reveals who Christ truly is and who we are called to become.

The First Reading deepens this movement. God tells Abram: “Go forth… to a land I will show you” (Gen 12:1-4a). Every ascent begins with departure. Abram leaves security and climbs the interior mountain of faith. For us to fully enter into the mountain moment of Lent and reap its transformative fruits, we must like Abraham, be ready to leave some things behind – to move from sin to grace, from self-reliance to trust. 

The Second Reading (2 Tim 1:8-10) adds another dimension. Paul speaks of a call “to a holy life… according to his own design and grace.” Holiness is not human achievement; it is participation in divine life. On the mountain of Transfiguration, the disciples glimpse what grace intends for humanity. Christ “destroyed death and brought life and immortality to light.” The light shining from His face is the destiny prepared for us. The mountain reveals not only who Jesus is, but who we are meant to become in Him.

Thus, Lent holds together desert and mountain. The desert purifies; the mountain clarifies. The desert tests love; the mountain reveals its goal. When Jesus takes us up the mountain in prayer, He does so to show us who He is, and who we can become in Him. Therefore, this Lenten season, we are invited to climb - to pray more intentionally, to listen more attentively, and to trust more radically.. And when we descend, may we carry in our hearts the light we have seen - transformed, strengthened, and ready to follow Him to Jerusalem.