Lent is a time to listen and allow God to speak into the silence. But what if the path we are asked to walk is a frightening one?

March 1, 2026: Second Sunday of Lent
Genesis 12:1–4a
Psalm 33:4–5, 18–20, 22
2 Timothy 1:8b–10
Matthew 17:1–9

Speaking into the Silence

A reflection by Carter Fahey

Lent is a time to listen. A time to make space. A time to pause, take a breath, and allow God to speak into the silence. But what if the path we are asked to walk is a frightening one? What are we to make of the discomfort and anxiety we may face along the way?

This Sunday’s readings all address these questions, which are so fundamental to our journeys as Christians, and are perhaps especially relevant today, when the act of loving one’s neighbor can seem so revolutionary.

In the first reading, God asks Abram to trust in providence: leave your homeland, your family dwelling, the places and people you have known and loved. Leave everything you have known, and let me guide you. Trust that I will guide you, and you will be blessed without measure.

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… All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you.” (Gen 12:1–3)

Throughout our lives–but perhaps especially during this season of Lent– God asks us to do something similar, to undertake a journey and place our trust in Them. For many, this may be a literal journey–leaving behind one’s hometown and family for the first time, relocating for work, making an international move to pursue a degree or career. For others, the journey might be less literal–leaving behind habits and routines that are no longer helping us move forward, learning to be vulnerable after being hurt by others, remaining open to love even at the risk of heartbreak. Whenever God asks something of us, it is likely to involve some anxiety or discomfort. We cannot move forward without taking a step, nor can we grow into the people we are meant to be without a few growing pains along the way.

We do not undertake such journeys alone; indeed, we are supported by “the strength that comes from God,” the unwavering and unconditional love bestowed upon each of us by the same God who “saved us and called us to a holy life, not according to our works but according to his own design and the grace bestowed on us in Christ Jesus before time began” (2 Tim 1:8–9).

When we find the courage to heed God’s call, facing our anxieties and setting off in the direction we find ourselves guided, we open ourselves to further experience God.

Peter, James, and John illustrate this perfectly–they not only followed Jesus where he led them –in Sunday’s gospel reading, “up a high mountain by themselves”–but spiritually, too, striving to understand and follow his teachings even when they struggled to wrap their heads around the immense significance of what they heard (Mt 17:1). They were, of course, only human, but their earnest determination left them open to seeing the divine–literally:

And he was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light.

…behold, a bright cloud cast a shadow over them, then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.” (Mt 17:2–5)

If we persist in following God’s call, we too open ourselves to experiencing God. Like the disciples, though, we are likely to have one of two very human reactions.

For some of us, the voice of God may prove too frightening. We may cover our ears, close our eyes, and hide until it simply goes away, leaving us to our comfortable patterns of life and well-worn routines. This is certainly the disciples’ reaction to God’s voice–they “fell prostrate and were very much afraid.”

Others may find themselves so enraptured with God’s radiance that they would prefer to contain God, making God into an object, a creature to be contained and enjoyed. This is Peter’s reaction to seeing the transfigured Christ with Moses and Elijah. “Lord, it is good that we are here,” he says. “If you wish, I will make three tents here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Mt 17:4).  He wishes to reside with God in this life, to grasp God’s glory and refuse to let go. How many of us, if we experienced something of God’s glory, would want the same? Who would want to return to our dull lives after being dazzled by God’s utter radiance?

To both, Jesus’ response is the same. He comes to them in his humanity, touching and comforting them, saying “Rise, and do not be afraid” (Mt 17:7). The brief flash of divine radiance is gone, “they saw no one else but Jesus alone” (17:8). Christ remains, consoling the fearful and accompanying the disciples down the mountain, back to their lives and routines. Forever changed by a glimpse of glory, they carry something of the experience with them, spreading the Good News to those around them.

Let us strive to be like the disciples, who followed Jesus’ call and were forever changed, and like Abram, who “went as the Lord directed him” (Gen 12:4). And as we journey onward, “may your kindness, O Lord, be upon us who have put our hope in you” (Ps 33:22).

Carter Fahey (he/him) is the Associate Editor of Breath of the Spirit and studied at Oxford. He is a convert and has an interest in doing outreach work to Catholic communities to combat misinformation and create opportunities for community among LGBTQIA+ people.