This Second Sunday of Lent, the Word of God invites us into a movement, not to comfort, nor to a maintenance, but to a movement with a promise.

In Genesis, God says to Abraham, “Go from your country… to the land I will show you.” There was No map. There were No guarantees. Just A Promise. Abraham’s journey begins not with ashes, but with Trust. He leaves what is familiar because God’s Voice is more Secure than his surroundings.

Every family understands this in its own way. Think of families who immigrated with little more than faith and a suitcase. Think of parents who work two jobs so that their children can have a future. Think of those who left behind familiar cultures, languages, and comforts. Faith always involves leaving something to receive something greater. Abraham trusts and goes, and history changes.

Then, in Matthew, we climb another mountain. Jesus Christ is transfigured before Peter, James, and John. His face shines: His clothes become dazzling white. The glory that was always His bursts forth. This is not a spectacle; It is a Revelation. The One who will walk toward Calvary is already radiant with Divine Sonship. The Cross is not failure; it is the Path to Glory.

Peter, understandably, wants to build tents. “Let us stay here.” We smile, because we know that feeling. After a powerful retreat, a beautiful Sunday liturgy, a consoling prayer moment, we want to freeze it. But the voice from the cloud interrupts: “This is my beloved Son… Listen to Him.” Not Admire Him. Not Domesticate Him. Just Listen to Him.

And what does Jesus say after the revelation? “Rise, and do not be afraid.”

St. Paul reminds us in Second Timothy that we are called “not according to our works but according to His purpose and grace”. Lent is not self-improvement. It is time to Surrender to Grace. It is trusting that the One who calls us out will also sustain us.

This is the kerygma: the Father has given us His beloved Son. The Son will descend the mountain, embrace the Cross, and conquer death. Here too lies the Eucharistic mystery: Every Mass is Mount Tabor veiled. Glory is hidden under humility. The same radiant Christ comes to us under the appearance of bread and wine. We cannot remain on the mountain of consolation, but we can receive the Lord of glory into our very bodies.

Strengthened by this Presence, we descend and are not afraid of carrying blessing into our homes, our workplaces, and our parish family. We trust, we rise, and we go.

Your Priest,

Father Charles Enyinnia