Of the over 500 words we just heard proclaimed from the scriptures, there’s one, single, five letter word that has the power to derail everything I might want to preach today. A simple adjective that I wonder if it stood out for anyone else the way it did to me: GREAT.
The word “Great” – maybe a decade ago that word was harmless – optimistic, powerful, even unifying for people. Here in the United States in 2026, just saying it out-loud can make some lean in and others brace for impact. It’s bizarre how political, tribal even triggering it can be – which is the last thing I want to do right now. But you can’t ignore the elephant in the room. And that word is jumping off the page in the first reading today from Genesis.
Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for SECOND SUNDAY OF LENT – MARCH 1, 2026 – Your support means a great deal to me, and I’m deeply grateful for the many who share these messages with their friends, families and social media followers. If you’ve found meaning in these words, I’d be grateful if you’d share them with others who might benefit.
And for those who prefer listening, you can find the audio version on SoundCloud HERE or subscribe to the podcast on iTunes HERE. Your comments, messages, and the way you’ve embraced these homilies continue to inspire me. Sincerely in Christ -Father Jim
Part of the reason “Great” has become so controversial now is because we probably never gave much thought to how subjective that could really be. I think most people kind of assumed that there was some sense of universal agreement over a word this simple and common. But to be fair, that’s probably never really been the case, we’re just more sensitive to the differences now. For example, if I say the Mens US-Canada Olympic Hockey gold medal game last Sunday was “Great” – the kid scoring a dramatic overtime winner to give Team USA’s first mens hockey gold in 46 years – I doubt Canadian fans would agree with that assessment. Other die-hard hockey fans could probably point to other games that fill out those highlight reels of “Greatest sports moments in history” as being even more dominant or memorable that make last Sunday’s USA victory pale in comparison. You’re left wondering if what actually determines greatness is the Jersey you’re wearing. And honesly, that can be annoying. That objectivity is lost because of our own scoreboards.
Which is why it’s so important for us to go back to that first reading – go back to Genesis and pay attention to what God is saying, what He means as He looks at a, (at this point) 75 year old man named Abram (married to a 65 year old Sarai) who have been childless and says to Abram “I will make of you a great nation… I will make your name great…”
What does that actually mean?
Abram and Sarai had been praying for a baby for decades. They longed for it. Grieved for it. Saw younger couples hold babies… heard people’s whispers… Maybe felt sour turn into ache and disappointment. Doubts tormenting them “does God see us? Does He even care?” So when the Lord God shows up and promises not just a child, but an entire, great nation, you can almost hear Abram thinking “FINALLY – thank GOD! Yes, the comeback story I’ve dreamt of!”
Except God’s version of “great” looked nothing like Abram’s. When the promise seemed to be taking forever, Sarai suggests a very human workaround: Take my servant Hagar as a second wife – maybe she can give you the child we’ve been praying for? Abram, truthfully doesn’t put up much of an argument “OKAY.” What starts as a desperate and ill conceived (pun intended) attempt to “help God out” quickly falls apart. The birth of Ishmael turns into jealousy, family tension, division and heartbreak. Abraham learned the hard way – something that he would have to keep re-learning for the rest of his life – God doesn’t need our cleverness. God wants our faithfulness – our trust – our willingness to leave behind the familiar, the comfortable, the “I’ve got this script” we’ve written for our own lives and follow Him, stepping out into the unknown.
That’s why Abraham’s story is so powerful, because it’s so relatable. We do the same thing – all of us, at every stage of life. Whether your trying to figure out your future; a parent juggling work and kids; a grandparent watching the world change at such breathtaking paces the likes of which you never imagined – or every and anyone in between – the pressure is real. There’s this lure for all of us to be “great.” We keep hearing voices telling us our worth is determined by how thing in our life look – the right job, the right grades, the right relationships; the right number of likes or achievements. The picture perfect life we imagine… even rooting for the “right team” in the big game. We fall for it over and over again, why? Because who doesn’t want to be great?
But then life happens. A dream goes unfulfilled. The plans fall apart. A diagnosis comes. The child moves out. The retirement doesn’t live up to what we imagined it to be. And suddenly the same voice within that sounded so confidently saying “you’ve got this” begins to whisper “see you’re not enough…” or worse. None of this is new. It’s an echo of what we heard last Sunday Mass readings of the fall in the Garden of Eden.
From the very beginning, men and women were created for greatness. Made in God’s image, beloved, destined for Glory. And humanity thew it away trying to seize it on our own terms. Every subsequent generation has copied our parents Adam and Eve trying to “fix this myself” as we fall again, and again and again… Every sin, every compromise, every loophole we create for ourselves is just another tumble down the mountain.
Which brings us to the Gospel – Jesus taking his innermost circle of the inner circle – 3 of the 12 apostles – Peter, James and John up the mountain. And there he gives them – and us- a reset. For one dazzling moment, the veil is pulled back. Jesus is transfigured. His face changes. His clothes blaze white. The fullness of who Jesus truly is, is revealed in this awesome, breathtaking moment. Moses and Elijah, the two pillars of the Jewish faith appear and God the Father’s voice thunders, repeating what was heard years earlier when John the Baptist baptized Jesus “This is my beloved Son, listen to Him.” That glory that intimacy, that perfection is what was lost in the Fall – the greatness we were always meant for. Peter, being Peter is just saying what everyone would be thinking in that moment LORD THIS IS GREAT – LET’S NEVER LEAVE.
But Jesus doesn’t let them stay. He leads them back down the mountain – straight toward Jerusalem. Straight toward the Cross.
Because here’s the part that unravels every single one of us who still wants greatness to mean comfort… applause… control. God’s greatness is revealed most fully – not on the mountain – but on the cross. Not when the crowds were waving palm branches shouting “Hosanna.” Not when miracles were leaving crowds jaw dropped. Not when Peter in his excitement says “Lord this is great – let’s stay here.” No… not at all. Rather, when the crowds turned… his friends ran… when heaven seemed silent…When His hands were nailed open instead of lifted in blessing. This is where greatness is revealed. Not in taking – but giving. Not in being served – but pouring Himself out. Not in saving Himself – but staying. Staying when it hurt. Staying when it cost everything. Staying when love looked like losing.
And that’s why we can receive St. Paul’s words to St. Timothy in the second reading as meant for us when he writes “Bear your share of hardship for the Gospel with the strength that comes from God.” Notice, Paul doesn’t say avoid hardship. He doesn’t say if you were truly blessed, this wouldn’t be happening. He doesn’t say try harder and you’ll finally be great. No… He says Bear it. Because Paul understands something that we all too often and too easily forget. The Cross is not an interruption of God’s plan. It is the revelation of it. The grace we need – has already been given. Not after we succeed. Not after we prove ourselves. Not after we become the version of “great” that we think we’re supposed to be. God’s Grace was given before time began and fully revealed in Jesus Christ. That same Jesus who shone on the mountain. That same Jesus who hung on the cross. That same Jesus says to us: Follow me.
And that call to trust Him – when it costs – is not new. The call hasn’t changed since Abram first heard it… Leave behind the land you thought would make you great. Leave behind the narrative you’ve written for God and resenting Him for not following. Leave behind the fear that following where the Lord is calling you will limit or diminish you…that you’ll be ordinary or boring.
Because the secret everyone needs to hear again today—no matter our age or state in life—is this: the greatest thing we can ever become is not successful, not famous, not powerful, not even happy in the way the world defines happiness.
The greatest thing you can become – is His. Totally and completely His. Like Abraham. Like Peter, James and John. Like Paul and Timothy. Like every Saint who looked like a failure to the world but are now timeless examples radiating like the sun in His Kingdom.
This Lent, God is not asking us to be great. He’s asking us to trust the only One who already is. So on this Second week of Lent, everyone of us, no matter where we are in life, are being challenged – What is something God is asking me to leave behind to follow Jesus more freely? What habit is quietly pulling us away from Him? What relationship is not directing us towards Heaven? What fear is keeping us trapped? What timeline or dream are we gripping so tightly that it is actually choking away our peace?
The Lord is inviting us in this vulnerable and intimate of spaces to name it and offer it up. And then do what Abram did – what Peter did. Get up, dust yourself off after every fall and keep walking towards the voice that says “This is my beloved son. Listen to Him.”
Because the One who called Abram to greatness… The One who revealed His glory on the mountain… The One who rose from the dead… He’s still in the business of taking ordinary, messy and falling people and making their names great in the only way that lasts forever. That’s the promise. That’s the glory. And that – that – is what “great” really means to God.
