Second Sunday of Lent

Fr. Ben Riley

It’s the Second Sunday of Lent, and during Lent the Church brings us back to spiritual basics. We are asked to confront the foundational truths of the spiritual life. Today’s readings do exactly that.

As usual, I would like to begin with a personal story.

When I first entered the seminary at nineteen years old, I was young and fairly rambunctious. I had just finished my first year of college in Gunnison, Colorado. Now if you’ve never been to Gunnison, it might be one of the greatest outdoor recreation locations in the country. Within minutes of campus you can go rock climbing, downhill mountain biking, white water rafting, skiing, hiking, even skydiving. Just about every outdoor adventure you can imagine is right there. And that was a large reason I chose to start college there.

While I did attend most of my classes, I spent much of that first year going on adventures.

But eventually I had to be honest with myself. I knew God was calling me to the priesthood. And if I’m really honest, part of me was running from it.

Why?

Because I thought becoming a priest meant giving up the life of adventure I loved. I imagined a smaller life. A safer life. A confined life. I thought saying yes to God meant saying no to excitement.

And, I could not have been more wrong.

My priorities have shifted. I don’t get outside as much as I once did. I’m not racing down mountains every week or climbing cliffs the way I used to. But the life of a Christian, and especially the life of a priest, is the greatest adventure in the world.

Every day is different. I never know how God is going to use me. I never know who I am going to meet, what challenge is coming, what grace is about to break in. Every day has a new and different sun.

And here is what I discovered: the real adventure was never about mountains. It was about trust.

That brings us to Abraham in our first reading.

“The Lord said to Abram, ‘Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father’s house to a land that I will show you.’”

That is the spiritual life in one sentence.

Go forth.

Leave what is familiar. Leave what feels secure. Leave what you can control.

Notice that God does not give Abraham a map. He does not say, “Here is the five year plan.” He simply says, “I will show you.”

Saint Augustine defines sin in this powerful way, curvatus in se, the soul curved in on itself. Sin collapses us inward. It is self-protection, self-preoccupation, self-preservation.

But faith is the opposite movement.

Faith moves us outward.

Faith is Abraham packing up and walking into the unknown. When I finally stopped running away from God and entered the seminary, I thought I was losing adventure. What I was really losing was control. And that is what we are most afraid to surrender.

Now when I say the Christian life is an adventure, I do not mean you have to hang off a cliff to be holy.

That is not the point.

The adventure of the Christian life is not about adrenaline. It is about surrender.

It is the willingness to step into the unknown when God calls.

It is the courage to speak the Gospel when it costs you something.

It is the decision to forgive when pride would rather hold on.

It is the refusal to live caved in on yourself, protecting comfort at all costs.

The real question is this: if God asked for my comfort, would I give it? If God asked for my security, would I surrender it? If following Christ meant losing something, would I still say yes?

That is adventure.

And that is the adventure of Lent.

Lent is not just about giving up small pleasures. It is about loosening our grip on this world and all the false security it offers. It is about learning to let go. Every fast is practice in surrender. Every act of forgiveness is practice in surrender. Every act of generosity is practice in saying, “Lord, I trust you more than I trust myself.”

Now look at the Gospel.

Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain, and he is transfigured before them.

It is a glimpse of glory.

And what does peter say. “Lord, it is good that we are here.” Let’s build three tents. One for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” In other words, “Let’s freeze this moment. Let’s hunker down and get comfortable.” 

That instinct still lives in all of us today. Stay where it is bright. Stay where it is comfortable. Stay where it feels secure.

But the Father says, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”

And what will Jesus say? He will speak of losing one’s life in order to save it.

Abraham had to leave his father’s house. The apostles had to leave the mountain. I had to leave my illusion of control. And each of us, at every age and stage of life, is asked to leave behind the small, safe version of life we cling to.

This adventure is not just for the young. It is for the married couple asked to sacrifice for each other and for their children. It is for the elderly person asked to surrender their independence. It is for the business owner asked to act with integrity when it costs something. It is for the teenager asked to stand firm in faith among their friends.

The Christian adventure does not depend on your age. It depends on your willingness to trust.

Ultimately, the final “go forth” will be the moment we leave even this world behind. And what waits on the other side?

Transfiguration.

The glory revealed on the mountain is not just for Jesus. It is our destiny too.

But we do not get there by clinging. We get there by surrendering.

So this Lent, the question is simple:

Where am I curved inward? Where am I clinging to comfort? What would it look like for me to take one real step into the unknown for the sake of Christ?

“Go forth.”

“Listen to him.”

And trust that the life God is calling you to is not smaller than the one you imagine for yourself. It is far greater than your wildest expectation.