Ken Overberg, S.J.

Second Sunday of Lent, Feb 17, 2008

During Lent, the series of first readings, from the Hebrew Scriptures, offers a sweeping view of salvation history.  Last week we began with the beginning--Genesis and part of one of the creation stories.  Today we hear a little about Abraham, next week Moses and the Exodus, then David and finally the prophets.  These weeks, then, anticipate the great story at the Easter vigil.  It is important to remember that they are stories of religious conviction and not exact history.

As always for the gospel on the Second Sunday of Lent, we proclaim the Transfiguration.  Some Scripture scholars think that the Transfiguration is a Resurrection story that was put back into the earthly life of Jesus.  Others judge it to be a symbolic vision, helping us to appreciate the relationship between Jesus and the coming of God’s empire.  Matthew’s version emphasizes the heavenly glory in Jesus, who is Wisdom Incarnate.  The vision declares a message of hope.

Let’s listen to God’s word.

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It is that time of year again when our liturgy directs our attention toward Jesus’ suffering and death.  Already last week we sang that “wondrous love”

caused the “Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse for my soul.”  And we prayed this way: “The Father of mercies has given us an example of unselfish love in the sufferings of his only Son.”

Such songs and prayers--and undoubtedly there will be more--represent, of course, the dominant interpretation of Jesus’ horrible death.  But almost hidden in today’s second reading is a reminder that Scripture offers another view on Jesus’ life and death.  The author writes that grace was held out to us in Christ Jesus “before the world began”--and so necessarily before any sin.  Indeed, parts of our Scriptures and tradition stress the primacy of the Incarnation.  Jesus is not Plan B, sent to make up for sin.  Incarnation is God’s first thought, the original design for all creation.  The purpose of Jesus’ life is not to suffer but to share divine life and love in a unique and definitive way.

John’s Gospel in particular emphasizes friendship, intimacy, mutuality, service, faithful love--revealing God’s desire and gift for the full flourishing of humanity (what we call salvation).

This alternate interpretation has been developed by great theologians throughout history—the Cappadocians and Duns Scotus, Karl Rahner and Edward Schillebeeckx.  Lent, however, still emphasizes that other part of our tradition.  In our readings, songs, liturgical prayer, we all too often speak of ransom, sacrifice, and suffering and dying for our sins.

We may ask--we must ask--of this atonement theory: What does this say about God?  What kind of God could demand such torture of the beloved Son?  Is this the God revealed by Jesus in his words and deeds?  Has this part of the tradition slipped back into the ancient (but still popular) religion that believes violence saves?

Clearly Jesus offers us a different vision.  His God is a God of love and nonviolence, compassion and forgiveness, a God who sends rain on the just and unjust.  Indeed, Schillebeeckx states that would be blasphemous for the Christian to “claim that God … required the death of Jesus as compensation for what we make of our history.”