Sunday, March 1 @ 10:00 AM
St. Augustine Cathedral
My dear sisters and brothers,
Of all the activities and events I participated in during high school, the one I dreaded most happened twice a year in gym class. We had to run around the reservoir in Central Park—a few miles. Now, for young people who are athletic, that’s no big deal. But for me, it was a very big deal. It was one step under torture, really.
So I did it once. Then a few of my friends and I walked the route one day to see if there might be an easier way to do it. And we found one. We discovered a shortcut. You could actually start and end roughly in the same place. The second time we ran it, we found a little spot, sat there, waited until some of the others were finishing, and then showed ourselves as if we had completed the run.
It was great. You got to the same destination much easier—until you were caught, and then you paid the price.
But you see, my friends, if we’re honest with ourselves, if there is a shortcut to get something done, who doesn’t want to take it?
Whether you’re traveling somewhere or completing a task, if there’s a faster way to arrive at the same goal, many of us would take it. That may work in ordinary life. But in the spiritual life, it’s a disaster. It’s a recipe for disaster.
I suspect it is for that reason that Jesus, coming down the mountain, told Peter, James, and John not to tell anyone about the remarkable event that had occurred before their eyes.
We must remember that in His Transfiguration, the Lord was giving encouragement to the Apostles who were with Him. Encouragement for what? To glimpse what the end of the road would be like.
For He knew they were on their way to Jerusalem—and He was on His way to Calvary. He wanted them to understand that Calvary would not be the end, that there was more of the story yet to be written.
But He did not show them that glory so they would take a shortcut—thinking they could bypass Calvary and go straight to glory. He showed it to encourage them to keep going.
No shortcuts. Keep going—whatever the cost may be.
As we gather here on the Second Sunday of Lent, I have a question that may make you uncomfortable. It made me uncomfortable as I reflected on it while preparing this homily.
How often are you and I taking shortcuts in the spiritual life?
That is, how often are we avoiding the hard work the Lord asks of us so that we may be ready to receive the gift He wishes to give—eternal life? How often do we choose the easy path, convincing ourselves it is the better one, when there is really only one path: the path of sacrificial love, walking in the footsteps of Jesus?
To think we can avoid Calvary in your life and mine—that is the illusion.
You may be sitting there saying, “Oh, Bishop, come on. I do what I’m supposed to do. I sacrifice. What shortcuts do you think I have in my life? Maybe in yours, but not in mine.”
Allow me to peel the onion, if I may.
How many times in your life or mine have we been offended by someone? And what do we decide? “You know what? I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to argue. I’ll just keep my distance. Let that person live their life. I’ll live mine. We’ll keep the peace.”
My friends, that’s a shortcut.
Because Jesus does not say to those who offend us—those we may even consider enemies in the moment—“Keep the peace by keeping distance.” He says to love them. Not to keep distance, but to suffer through going to them and willing their good, no matter the cost.
How often do we take that shortcut?
Think of our sins—yours and mine. When we go to the Sacrament of Confession and Reconciliation and say, “I’ve gossiped,” or “I’ve said hurtful things,” we receive God’s forgiveness. And then we leave thinking our work is done.
But it’s not done.
Is it not also our obligation, as best we can, to try to undo the damage we’ve done? How often do we go back to the person we offended and ask for forgiveness from them as well?
To think we are finished when we are not—that is a shortcut. We want to avoid the hard road.
And the list goes on and on.
Ordinary life may have many shortcuts. The spiritual life does not.
There is only one road the Lord asks us to walk—in His footsteps. A life of love for all around us, despite the suffering and sacrifice it may cause. A life of mercy and forgiveness as He lived it, despite the cost.
If we choose to walk that road, the Transfiguration reminds us we never walk it alone. The glory Jesus revealed will be ours—if only we keep walking.
The one day my friends and I took the shortcut, do you know what the punishment was? We had to run the reservoir twice.
And what did I discover? When you take a shortcut, it makes the road that much longer.
As we spend this week in Lent, let us have the courage to look in the mirror and identify the ways we are trying to take shortcuts in our spiritual lives. And may we have the courage to take up our cross with Jesus—and truly keep walking with Him.
