DROPPING THE SHOPPING

Some twenty-five years ago as I drove through the Hamptons on Long Island, New York, I remember eyeing the gorgeous mansions in this playground of the rich, and thinking 'It must be good to live here.' Less noticable were the low discreet walls behind which lurked huge amounts of garbage, the inevitable by-product of a mentality that says, 'If it doesn't meet your taste or fit the current fashion, toss it.'

The words of Jesus' friends in this Sunday's Gospel, 'Master, it is good that we are here...' remind me of the Hamptons. The Gospel is Luke's version of the Transfiguration of Jesus on the mountaintop, itself a symbol of the world intended by the Creator. Like the Gospel as a whole, the vignette tells of redemption: first we sinned and then God redeemed us.

A new awareness of creation has expanded this view. We now tend to think of creation - the planet and the universe - as part of God's plan; that God is first, Creator and Lord of every moment of history. To the age-old question 'Who made me?' we still see the answer 'God made me' (in the past). This is still the truth, but not the full truth. The full truth is that God continues to create me in the present.

Here we have Jesus praying on the mountain, his face changing in appearance and his clothing becoming dazzling white. Standing with him in his glory are Moses and Elijah. Peter, James and John are overcome and want to stay, thinking it would be good for them all to live there.

What did they see that made them want to stay? The corner of a veil was lifted and a glimpse of what the Creator has in mind for his creation, a kind of land flowing with milk and honey, was on display. The Preface of Sunday's Mass calls it 'the glory of the Resurrection.' Paul talks in the second reading about the Lord Jesus Christ who 'will change our lowly body into his glorified body....'

Our world is not flowing with milk and honey. Au contraire, we find ourselves locked into an unhealthy cycle of work, spend and create more garbage. We go into debt to purchase stuff we do not need and then work longer than we want in order to keep up with the payments. Caught in this kind of syndrome we forget where our worth lies. Our value lies in realizing that God is making us in the present, moment by moment.

Have we gone way too far down this road of work, spend and pollute? Can we visualize the life God has in mind for us? An enlightening little book appeared several years ago about the ancient ways of an Himalayan village. The writer describes a society 'in which there is neither waste nor pollution, a society in which crime is virtually non-existent, communities are healthy and strong....' - Learning from Ladakh, by H. Norbert-Hodge.

A decade before I took that trip through the Hamptons, Pope John Paul II spoke in New York City's Yankee Stadium about 'breaking with the frenzy of consumerism.' Consumerism, like much of traditional Christianity, is unaware of the sacredness of creation. Many writers say the environmental and ecological problems we face today are the results of runaway consumerism.

Lent and the Gospel call us to a temperate lifestyle. Fasting is part of a way of life that is meant to be characterised by moderation. A familiar statistic reminds us sadly that 20% of the world's population (the industrialized countries) consumes 66% of its resources and generates 75% of all pollution and waste products.

Looking with environmental and ecological awareness at this Gospel of the Transfiguration can trigger the vision of a better life for everybody on our much abused planet.

PASTOR EMERITUS