God speaks first to Abram.

“Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house
to the land that I will show you.”

There is no map. No explanation. Only a command and a promise.

Abram is not asked to improve his life.
He is asked to leave it.

He must step away from what is known
toward what is given.

This is the beginning of faith.

Not comfort.
Not clarity.
But obedience.

“I will make of you a great nation…
in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

God’s promise is generous.
But it is not immediate.

It unfolds through trust.

“So Abram went, as the Lord had told him.”

That sentence contains the whole drama of salvation.

God speaks.
Man moves.

This prepares us for the Gospel.

Jesus takes Peter, James, and John
up a high mountain.

Not to teach them a lesson.
But to show them a truth.

“He was transfigured before them,
and his face shone like the sun,
and his clothes became white as light.”

This is not a change of identity.
It is a revelation of it.

The veil is drawn back.

The glory that belongs to Christ
is made visible.

Moses and Elijah appear with Him.

The Law.
The Prophets.

Both pointing to Christ.

Both fulfilled in Him.

Peter speaks from confusion.

“Lord, it is good that we are here.”

He wants to stay.

He wants to build tents.

He wants to preserve the moment.

But the cloud comes.
And the voice speaks.

“This is my beloved Son,
with whom I am well pleased;
listen to him.”

The disciples fall on their faces.

They are not meant to stay.
They are meant to listen.

This moment is not given
to replace the cross.
It is given
to prepare for it.

Jesus will soon go to Jerusalem.
He will be rejected.
He will suffer.
He will die.

The transfiguration is not escape.
It is assurance.

It tells them
who it is
that will be crucified.

This is the Son.

And the Father commands:

Listen to him.

That command is the same
given to Abram.

Go where I send you.

Trust what I promise.

Faith is not understanding everything.

It is moving
because God has spoken.

This is what Paul means
in the second reading.

“God saved us and called us to a holy calling,
not because of our works
but because of his own purpose and grace.”

Faith is not earned.
It is received.

But it is not passive.

“Share in suffering for the gospel
by the power of God.”

Grace does not remove the cross.
It makes it possible.

Paul does not say:
Avoid suffering.

He says:
Share in it.

Not as failure.
But as part of vocation.

Because Christ “abolished death
and brought life and immortality to light.”

The light of the Transfiguration
is the light of Easter
shown early.

So that the road through Good Friday
does not seem meaningless.

This is why the Church gives us this Gospel
in the middle of Lent.

The desert can exhaust us.
The discipline can narrow us.
The cross can discourage us.

So God shows us the mountain.

Not as destination.
But as direction.

Abram leaves his land
because God promises blessing.

The disciples climb the mountain
and see glory.

Paul calls Timothy
to endure suffering
because Christ has conquered death.

All three readings
speak about the same movement.

From security
to trust.

From sight
to obedience.

From fear
to hope.

Lent is not about improving habits.
It is about learning how to walk
by faith.

Abram does not know
where he is going.

Peter does not understand
what he is seeing.

Paul does not pretend
that discipleship is easy.

But all three know
who they are following.

The temptation of Lent
is to look for reassurance
instead of obedience.

To ask for signs
instead of listening.

Peter wants to build tents.
He wants to freeze the moment.

But the voice interrupts him.

“Listen to him.”

Not:
Admire him.

Not:
Preserve this.

Listen.

Which means:
Follow.

The cloud lifts.
Moses and Elijah vanish.

“Jesus was found alone.”

Not with symbols.
Not with companions.

Only Him.

And the disciples are told
to say nothing
until after the resurrection.

The glory is not for display.
It is for endurance.

We are not meant
to live on the mountain.

We are meant
to walk down
with faith.

Abram leaves home.
Christ descends toward the cross.

Paul accepts chains.

All three trust
what they cannot yet see.

This is what Lent trains us for.

Not to feel holy.
But to move
when God calls.

Not to stay
where we are comfortable.

But to go
where we are sent.

The Christian life
is not a circle.
It is a journey.

And every journey
begins with a command.

Go.
Listen.
Share.

Abram goes.
The disciples listen.
Paul shares in suffering.

All three receive a promise.

Blessing.
Glory.
Life.

But only
on the far side
of obedience.

We live in a culture
that demands proof.

Abram is given a word.
Peter is given a vision.
Paul is given a mission.

None of them is given control.

Faith is not about managing God.

It is about trusting Him
enough to move.

This is why the Transfiguration
comes in Lent
and not after Easter.

Because it is meant
to strengthen
not to conclude.

It is a light
placed ahead on the road.

So that when darkness comes
we remember
what we have seen.

And what we have been promised.

God says to Abram:
I will bless you.

The Father says of Jesus:
This is my beloved Son.

Paul says:
Christ has brought life to light.

All three say the same thing.

God is faithful.

Even when the road is long.
Even when the mountain is steep.
Even when suffering appears.

So the question today is not:

Do we understand where we are going?

It is: Are we willing to go where God leads?

Are we willing to listen when Christ speaks?

Are we willing to share in the cross because we trust the resurrection?

Lent is not a pause from life.

It is a passage.

From the familiar to the promised.

From the visible to the true.

Abram left his land.
The disciples left the mountain.
Paul left safety.

And in each case,
God’s glory
was not diminished.

It was fulfilled.

The Transfiguration does not cancel the cross.

It reveals its meaning.

And the command that echoes through all three readings is the same:

Go.
Listen.
Trust.

Because the one
who calls us
is faithful.

And the light
we glimpse now
will be the life
we enter
at the end.