During the last days of summer vacation, it’s easy for everyone to get a little irritable. Creativity is running low, temperatures are running high and last-minute vacations and school prep tempt parents to grab an extra iced latte to get them through the afternoon.
In the middle of this bustle, the Church gives us the Feast of the Transfiguration. We remember when Christ brought His three closest disciples onto the fruitful Mount Tabor and gave them a glimpse into His divine glory. Celebrated Aug. 6, this feast serves as the perfect reminder to me to pause and see the people around me as they truly are before I plunge into the routine of another school year.
Alice Von Hildebrand, a modern Catholic philosopher, first inspired me to look for Mount Tabor moments in my own life. Christ didn’t show His glory to His disciples in order to scare them into service or to improve His conflict-ridden reputation with the Jewish population. He wanted to show His friends a true vision of Himself – fully human, fully divine. This vision would strengthen them for the trials ahead during His Passion when the weakness of His humanity was most obvious.
Von Hildebrand wrote a letter to a young bride she mentored and compared the Transfiguration to marriage. She said that in the first flush of love and sacramental grace, we often receive a glimpse of our spouse for who he or she truly is: a unique person with immense potential for virtue and goodness and love.
How easy it is for time, routine and daily sufferings to wear down that initial vision. Sometimes, we even question if the vision of our beloved was a true one or merely a naïve illusion. Like St. Peter at the Transfiguration, we want to build a tent, put our perfect person inside it and enjoy that moment in perpetuity. But the vision was not meant to last, it was meant to inspire. Marriage and family life have countless mini-Calvaries as we die to self and learn to help each other with our crosses. True love is faithful. Seeing the difficulties and weaknesses of the present moment, true love still holds on to hope for the potential that we see for each soul to respond to the call to holiness.
As I watch my children grow, I have realized that God frequently gives us more than one Mount Tabor moment in our lives. There are “mini-Tabors” just as there are “mini-Calvaries.” It is in the quiet, uncelebrated moments when I sometimes see the richness of my son’s affection for his littlest sister, the depth of the generosity of one daughter or the profound empathy and healing joy of another. I hold onto those icons of goodness when I wrestle with their habits still in need of formation and my own insecurities and sinfulness as a parent.
I have also realized that my heart must be prepared to receive these visions of hope. If I am filled with resentment, tiredness or distraction, I am not present enough to see the image of goodness that heals and encourages me. At times, I have prayed for an insight into the goodness of a family member whom I am struggling with during a particular season. God wants us to see with His eyes and heart. We are still partially blinded by our sin and selfishness, but He can drive away that fog for a time when we pray for the grace to forgive and to see more truly.
Kelly Henson is a Catholic writer and speaker who explores the art of integrating faith into daily life. She, her husband and their four children are parishioners of Our Lady of Grace Parish in Greensboro, and she has worked for more than 15 years with teens, children and families as a missionary, youth minister and teacher. She blogs at www.kellyjhenson.com.