2ND SUNDAY OF LENT: “MASTER, IT IS GOOD THAT WE ARE HERE.”

Introducing his 2026 Pastoral Letter (In Charity & Truth: Toward a Renewed Political Culture), Archbishop William Lori reminds us: “The human person finds his or her full meaning and dignity only in Jesus Christ.” According to that document, our reflections on culture, politics, unity, and responsibility must begin—and end—with Christ. Today’s Gospel of the Transfiguration shows the urgency of that call.

Peter, James, and John are taken up the mountain. There, they witness a theophany—God revealed in Christ. In that moment, heaven touches earth. Jesus’ face shines. His garments become dazzling white. The glory usually hidden in his humanity breaks forth. And Peter blurts out what every heart longs to say in the presence of divine beauty: “Master, it is good that we are here.”

I once had a client who was overwhelmed by anxiety and stress. One day, he walked into my office, dropped into the chair, leaned back, and said with deep relief, “It feels goooood.” That was not laziness. It showed his deepest aspiration for rest. It was the experience of finally exhaling. That is the way the disciples’ experience on the mountain comes across to me, but theirs is more: a foretaste of heaven. A moment of clarity. A glimpse of who Jesus truly is.

The Transfiguration also prefigures the Resurrection. Moses and Elijah—the Law and the Prophets—stand beside Jesus. Everything converges in Christ as the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. Peter wants to build three tents and to remain in that moment. But the vision is not meant to be preserved in isolation; it is meant to transform them for mission.

Then comes the voice of the Father: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.”

The same voice that spoke at Jesus’ baptism now confirms his identity and mission. Christ is, as St. Paul says, “the image of the invisible God.” To see him is to see the Father. To listen to him is to walk the path to authentic freedom.

Finally, the Transfiguration reveals divine beauty. As Pope Paul VI reflected, Christ is “beauty—human and divine.” And where do we encounter that beauty now? In the Eucharist. As St. John Paul II taught, every Mass is a mysterious participation in the heavenly liturgy; “Mass is heaven on earth.” The mountain of Transfiguration becomes the altar. The glory hidden then is hidden still—but truly present.

Throughout Scripture, encounters with God evoke the same joy Peter expressed. Adam beholds Eve and exclaims with wonder. Simeon holds the Christ child and says, “Now, Lord, you may let your servant go in peace.” Elizabeth’s child leaps in her womb. The Psalmist proclaims, “One day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.” Every authentic encounter with Christ awakens the heart to say: “It is good to be here.”

Lent invites us up the mountain. Like Abraham in the first reading, we are called to leave what is familiar and trust God’s promise. Like Timothy in the second reading, we are called to bear witness with courage. We ascend the mountain through prayer, fasting, and charity—not to escape the world, but to see it rightly.

And we must ask ourselves: How does it feel to be in our church? Do people sense Christ’s beauty here? Can they say, “It is good to be here?” Do we make Christ present enough and make Him the center of everything we do or say?

The Transfiguration summons us to both personal and communal actions. Personally, we are invited to spend time with Jesus in silence, in Scripture, in Eucharistic adoration. Communally, we are called to build Christ-centered communities—parishes and churches where dignity is honored, mercy is lived, and love is visible.

If, as Archbishop Lori says, the human person finds full meaning only in Jesus Christ, then our mission is clear: make Christ visible. Let his face shine through our worship, our service, our unity, our love. And when we truly encounter him—whether on the mountain, at the altar, or in the quiet of prayer—we too will say with conviction: Master, it is good that we are here.

Readings: Gen. 12:1–4; 2 Tim. 1:8–10; Matt. 17:1–9