My dear sisters and brothers, we’re already in the throes of our Lenten journey! Last Sunday, the Church led us into the desert with Jesus. It was a place of extremes, a place of testing, silence, even struggle as Jesus grappled with the devil’s promises of food, prestige, and power. Today, only one week later, we are taken to a different location and formative experience. We go up a mountain. Lent always moves like this: from desert to mountain, from temptation to transfiguration. It seeks to ground us in reality itself.

In the Gospel from Matthew 17, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain, and there He is transfigured before them. His face shines like the sun. His garments become dazzling white. For a moment, Heaven touches earth. I often think of what that moment must have been like. Everything else is forgotten. The only thing that mattered was what grasped their minds, their hearts, their very being.

And Peter says what any of us would say: “Lord, it is good that we are here.”

How true that is for us today. It is good that you are here.

The mountain-top moments of our lives

We all know something about mountain-top experiences.

They may not come with radiant clouds and heavenly voices, but they are moments when something becomes clear: when faith deepens, when a prayer is answered, when a child shows unexpected courage, when peace settles into your heart after anxiety.

As mothers, you have experienced these moments:

• The first time your child received the Eucharist.
• The pride of watching them grow in character.
• The quiet gratitude of seeing them choose what is right.
• Or even the silent strength you discover in yourself when you thought you had none left.

When something touches us deeply;-gives us peace, clarity, inner stillness-we want to stay there, too! Peter certainly did. “Let us build three tents,” he says. Let’s hold on to this pinnacle moment.

But Jesus does not let them stay.

Sent down the mountain

The Gospel tells us that Jesus leads them back down the mountain. Why?

Because the glory was not meant to be an escape from reality, or the world, or life. It was meant to strengthen them for what lay ahead, what they would have to face in the days, months, years to come.

Soon there would be confusion, suffering, even the Cross, and when that moment came, they would need to remember what they saw on the mountain: This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him.

Lent works the same way in our lives. The desert strips us. The mountain strengthens us. And then we are sent back into daily life, somehow changed.

Abraham: Leaving what is familiar

Let’s go back to the first reading, when God says to Abraham in Genesis 12: “Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk to a land that I will show you.”

Notice that God does not give him a map or a GPS tracking system. Instead, He gives him a promise.

That is the life of faith. I think it is especially true for a mother. Of course, when your child is born, you are not given an “instruction manual” of what is important to this child and how this child thinks or makes decisions. You walk forward not with guarantees, but with trust. You entrust your children to a future you cannot fully see. You pray over decisions you cannot control. You release them gradually, sometimes painfully to manage in a world where there are opportunities and threats. 

And yet God says, “I will bless you.”

Faith is not certainty about outcomes; it is confidence in the One Who calls. Sometimes our life is full of surprises that don’t always make sense at the time. In the grand scheme of things, the sense will come when we look back and see a beautiful mosaic or tapestry being constructed.

“Called to a holy life”

Here’s another thought for your consideration: In the second reading, St. Paul writes to Timothy: “He has called us to a holy life.” He calls us not a perfect life, not an easy life, but a holy life.

Holiness does not mean never failing. It means rising again and moving forward because we know Whose we are.

One of the greatest temptations mothers face is discouragement. What do I mean? It is thought that you have not done enough, said the right thing, prevented the mistake, or solved the problem, but hear this clearly: Our failures are not the sum of your life; God’s mercy is.

Your story (and your children’s story) is not defined by weakness and failure but by grace. The same Jesus Who shone in glory on the mountain is the Jesus Who walked toward the Cross, and He rose from the dead!

Awareness of what God is doing

Why is it good that we are here today? Because we need to be reminded often of what God is doing all around us.

He is working quietly in your homes and in schools and faith formation. He is shaping your children in ways you cannot yet see. He is strengthening you in ways you do not always recognize.

Lent heightens our awareness. It teaches us to see that even in the desert seasons (the tired days, the misunderstandings, the worries) God is not absent. He is preparing the mountain.

And when you have glimpses of peace, clarity, or joy; you hold them, you cherish them. Let them strengthen you, but do not cling to them. Let them send you back into the thick of daily life with renewed courage.

Gratitude and encouragement

Today, this Saturday evening, I say, very simply, “Thank you.”

Thank you for taking time to grow in faith. Thank you for caring about your spiritual life. Thank you for entrusting your children to a Catholic education. Thank you for the hidden sacrifices no one sees. Your presence here is itself a testimony: faith matters.

So, here’s the summary (the Cliff Notes for today). As we continue this Lenten journey, from desert to mountain and back again, remember:

• God calls you to holiness.
• Mercy is stronger than failure.
• Grace is working even when you cannot measure it.
• And the glory glimpsed on the mountain always points toward Resurrection.

So today, with Peter, we can say with full hearts: “Lord, it is good that we are here.”

Strengthened by this encounter, we go back down the mountain (not discouraged, but hopeful) ready to live more completely the holy life to which we have been called. Amen.