February 27, Transfiguration B (Luke 9:28-36 [37-43a])
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus—like Moses and Elijah—is a figure of departure.
I have two sons, two years apart in age. When they were babies and toddlers, I was overcome with anxiety. For about two years, I had difficulty functioning, triggered mostly by news of climate change. Of course, climate change is a worrisome fact of our lives these days, one we should put all our problem-solving powers toward addressing. But I’m less anxious about it lately—not because it’s any less of a problem, but because my children are teenagers now. Their being less vulnerable in the world has me feeling less vulnerable in the world.
But there’s also this ineffable thing, something I perceive about them and others their age. They know what I was once afraid for them to learn. They know they’re coming into adulthood with climate change as one of the shaping forces in their lives. What they had once been too young to conceive of, they’re now fully aware of—and for the reason of having grown up in this (literally) new environment, I think I sense in them a new fortitude about what must be done.
Maybe I’m fooling myself or shirking responsibility. Or maybe they really will rise to their reality in a way that only those born into this new reality could.
