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Pastoral Messages

August 11, 2006

By Archbishop Daniel N. DiNardo

Our late Holy Father, John Paul II, took the adventuresome decision to have the Michelangelo frescoes in the Sistine Chapel cleaned. When the work was done and he saw them for the first time, especially the ceiling frescoes of the six days of creation and the creation of Adam, he remarked that these paintings were “the sanctuary of the theology of the human body.” These are stunning remarks about the power of art and its “grammar” of illuminating the human person. The Pope’s words might be paraphrased to sum up the meaning of the Feast Day we just celebrated this past Sunday, the Transfiguration of the Lord: the event and the Feast remembering it are a sanctuary of the theology of the Body of Christ. Each year on August 6 we celebrate what Eastern Christians in the Holy Land call a “Summer Pascha” or a “Summer Easter.” What is this strange event supposed to mean?

All three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) record this mystery; it is the centerpiece and high point of the public life of Jesus. Further, the scene seems to be aligned with two other events of Christ: his Baptism in the Jordan and his Prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane before his Passion. In all three scenes there is a very high “definition” of the identity of Jesus; there is an intense acknowledgement or presence of God the Father; there are apostolic witnesses nearby. In all three events Jesus is revealed as well-beloved Son and truly man. At the Baptism he purifies by the very waters into which he plunges, creating anew without tearing apart, and illuminating others; he then calls the first apostles. At the Transfiguration, his urgency to accomplish his Passion makes his obedience to the Father shine out and the Father’s delight shines out in the body of his Son, truly God and truly man. The apostles are there and are rendered stupefied. At Gethsemane, the well beloved Son seeing the malice of sin with all the masks and cover-up removed, reveals his identity as truly man and truly in anguish. Yet his total obedience to the Father contrasts with the mindless sleep of Peter, James and John unable to “stay awake and keep vigil.” The three scenes are three different kinds of “epiphany.” They reveal or manifest the various contours of Jesus’ identity as the one who always “shines,” whether at the waters of the Jordan, or in the brightness of his clothes and face on Mount Tabor, or in the sweat and anguish of his obedient prayer in Gethsemane. Each scene has a geographical locus in the Holy Land but the real geography is to be placed in the heart of each human person who sees the beauty of Jesus in each scene.

The Transfiguration takes place “six days after this.” Six days after what? It occurs right after the famous questioning by Jesus of the Twelve on “who he is.” When Peter rightfully replies that he is the Christ, the Son of the Living God,” Jesus must deepen for them the meaning of his Messiahship, that he is, in fact, the Christ. He tells them this is a Christ who will suffer: he makes the first prediction of his Passion, Death and Resurrection. This bewilders the disciples and causes Peter to say that such things can never happen to him. Jesus responds with sharp correction. We, like Peter, must get in line. There is no glory without the Cross. The transfiguration is a further correction of the disciples’ and our misunderstanding of the divinity and humanity of Jesus Christ. It gives a glimpse of our transformation by way of Christ’s precious body, his humanity, the place where his divine nature shines through. The Greek word for “Transfiguration” is metamorphosis. We are accustomed to think of it in scientific terms as the word describing the transformation of the caterpillar into the butterfly. In the case of the Gospel scene, the real change is not in Jesus Christ, but in the disciples (and us). Jesus just shows his true colors and a small peak at that. Had he shown his full glory he would have annihilated them. Instead the thrill of the Father is communicated in the joy of obedience in his well beloved Son. Jesus’ human nature, unlike ours, is not disfigured. He comes to refigure our disfigured human nature, even the very nature of our “bodiliness.” (Many people have great difficulties with the bodiliness of Christ, and of themselves. They cannot imagine that it is also our bodies that are saved and elevated by Christ, since he became man. The human mind does not like the thought of the Incarnation of Christ and is always finding ingenious ways to suppress or minimize it!) Moses and Elijah are important for the law of the covenant and the prophecy of the covenant, their passionate commitment to God and his concern for all human beings. But they are dwarfed by the simplicity and beauty of the well-beloved Son, the point of the Father’s voice and his proclamation. To listen to him is to be transfigured, to climb a mountain and remove the sandals of pure curiosity about Jesus and to be configured to him. The Father’s voice is saying that from now on nothing happens between God and us or between us and God except through the Body of his Son, a Body, once crucified and risen, that will be identified with his Church. The grace that comes through Jesus Christ both heals our disfigured human nature, even our corporality, and elevates it—“metamorphosis” it. There is no greater compassion of the Father than to allow us to enter with our whole being into the humanity and divinity of his Son. The Father, in effect says: “Look at my Son. See how beautiful he is! You also can share in this beauty, even now in your flesh, and one day, in fullness for ever, soul and body.”

Many people, perhaps most, have a difficult time of gathering together the true humanity and divinity of Christ in one divine Person. Our tendency is to make Jesus into some kind of “doll” that images ourselves and our wishes. The Transfiguration puts us squarely into a reality situation with Peter, James and John. After the grandeur, awe, and yes, even terror of a more profound analysis of who Christ is, we have to look up, just as they did, “and see only Jesus.” To see only him and his beauty and truth is the quality of the Transfiguration scene.

Rather than being seen as an oddity or as some hallucinatory experience by the three chief apostles and apostolic witnesses, the Transfiguration should be recognized as one of the deepest theological events in the public life of Jesus. We need to be healed and elevated by the Lord Jesus. I hope that we will think and meditate on this passage frequently. It is a sanctuary of the theology of the Body of Christ, beautiful in Head and members!

This week I mailed out to all priests a notice for a special second collection on the weekend of August 26-27 for the benefit of the Archdiocese of New Orleans, La. and the Diocese of Biloxi, Mississippi. This national collection is a result of the vote of all bishops in the United States during our meeting in June in Los Angeles. At that time, a Task Force of the Bishops’ Conference, headed by our own Archbishop Fiorenza, presented a devastating report on the conditions that remain in those two local churches. Last year, we all responded to the immediate human needs of so many individuals in Louisiana, Mississippi and Texas who were affected by Hurricanes Katrina and Rita. The overflowing response of all Americans, most especially by the people of Houston, was extraordinary to behold.

What we, as bishops, learned in June was the crushing loss and burdens suffered by especially two dioceses in the affected region. In the case of the Biloxi Diocese, for example, almost 90 percent of the churches, schools and other ecclesial structures suffered severe or catastrophic damage. Insurance cannot cover these losses, yet the Church must be restored enough to provide help and hope to its members there. The same or worse situation exists in the Archdiocese of New Orleans. Archbishop Hughes presented a very sobering portrait of what has happened in a large number of his churches and schools. Insurance also does not cover the devastation. Seventy percent of many building projects await either insurance or an infusion of funds. In some places, 80 percent of the people have still not returned to their homes.

It was obvious to all bishops that the two dioceses are not able at this time to rebuild solely on their own. They need support, help, prayers and treasure to help in the reconstruction of their ecclesial infrastructure. Archbishop Fiorenza was very blunt, and rightly so, in his assessment of what has happened and what needs to be done by all Catholics in the United States to help their brothers and sisters in these two local Churches.

I am, therefore, calling upon all the priests, deacons, religious and faithful of the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston to be generous in this one-time special collection for the Archdiocese of New Orleans and the Diocese of Biloxi. Your support, along with that of Catholics from around the United States, will be of great benefit to the rebuilding of the infrastructure, of churches, halls, rectories, parish centers and schools in these two areas. Though Archbishop Fiorenza is retired, he has not retired from his responsibility as Chair of this Task Force. He is very dedicated to this project. I hope that our respect for him will increase our awareness of the needs of our Catholic brothers and sisters in Louisiana and Mississippi and help us to respond generously to this second collection.