Les Misérables and the Transfiguration: Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent

The Academy Awards are this weekend, and normally they don’t hold much interest for me, but this year I’m pleased to say that one of my old friends is nominated for a major award. I’ve been teaching the novel Les Misérables for almost twenty years and it has become a steady companion to me each Lent as the eighth graders and I read it at this time every year. The latest movie of the novel is a film version of the Broadway musical starring Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway, and Russell Crowe, and it’s nominated for best picture.

The movie is a powerful experience, and it captures well the religious themes of the novel. As I’ve taught the book over the years, I’ve seen it change lives and open eyes.

One of the reasons the novel has such a powerful influence is its main character, Jean Valjean.

For anyone about to join the Church, or for anyone who is trying to live out their baptismal call, Jean Valjean’s story vividly illustrates the path of the Christian life. Valjean is like Abram in today’s first reading, or like the three disciples in today’s gospel.

Jean Valjean

Jean Valjean

As the story opens, Valjean has just been released from prison after nineteen years. He served five years for stealing a loaf of bread to give to his sister and her seven children in a time of unemployment and no money. The rest of those nineteen years he had to serve because he kept trying to escape. As he’s released he’s a hardened man who hates society for having punished him so severely.

And he has no reason to change his attitude as he is rejected by every place he turns to find work after his release. No one will have him. Every one turns him away.

Everyone except one person, that is. A kindly old bishop welcomes him in, gives him warm food and a bed, treats him like an honored guest.

The bishop lives a very simple life, and his only bit of extravagance is the set of silver plates and utensils that he breaks out when he has company.

Jean Valjean repays the bishop’s hospitality not by staying around to do a little gardening for him, or by helping him repair part of the cathedral. He repays him by sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night and stealing the bishop’s silver.

Well, Valjean doesn’t get very far. He’s caught by the police and brought back to the bishop. And though the bishop is a simple man who leads a simple life, he’s very intelligent, and he can see what’s happening. The bishop says, “Oh, there you are Valjean. But you left so quickly you forgot to take the silver candlesticks, too.” The policeman are flabbergasted because of course Valjean told them the silver was a gift from nice old priest with whom he’s spend the night. Rather than press charges, the bishop saves Valjean from having to go back to prison for life.

After the police have gone, in one of the most famous scenes in all of world literature, the bishop tells Valjean that he must use this silver to become an honest man, that he has bought his soul for God.

Now this story has been put in short story collections under the title “The Bishop’s Candlesticks,” and it serves as a great example of forgiveness, of turning the other cheek. But that’s not why it’s in the novel. This generous act of the bishop is a major turning point in Jean Valjean’s life and it takes place at the very beginning of the story. In fact, in the movie musical, this much of Valjean’s life only takes about ten minutes of screen time.

Like God’s covenant with Abram in the first reading, or Jesus’ transfiguration in the gospel, or as with our Baptism, First Eucharist, and Confirmation, the real story has yet to begin.

The bishop makes the offer, and Valjean accepts and commits himself to changing his life.

God made the offer to Abram who put his faith in the Lord; but then he and his descendants had to go out and live that covenant. It would take many years–years of unfaithfulness, year of slavery, years of traveling in the desert, years of divided kingdoms and exile–and still the covenant would not be completely fulfilled.

Peter, John, and James climbed Mount Tabor and saw the glory of the Lord, but this was no time for pitching a tent, for setting up camp. Jesus was not talking with Elijah and Moses about the beautiful sunrise, the soft breeze or the lovely view. They were talking about the suffering and death that was soon to come. This is the turning point of Luke’s gospel.

Shortly after this transfiguration experience Jesus “resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem.” The phrase Luke uses is literally translated as “he set his face” toward Jerusalem. After Jesus’ face changed on Mount Tabor, Jesus sets it toward Jerusalem, toward his suffering and death.

Valjean, too, sets his face toward suffering and death. The rest of the novel tells the story of Valjean’s struggle to follow the bishop’s instruction to become an honest man. In the rest of the book, Valjean has to learn to continually pour himself out in sacrifice, even when he knows it will not be appreciated or repaid.

The Church places these readings at the beginning of Lent to remind catechumens that they are not simply preparing for an event at the Easter Vigil. They will certainly encounter God in the sacraments of Baptism, Eucharist, and Confirmation. But then they must set their faces toward Jerusalem, pick up their crosses and follow Jesus.

But these readings are for us, too, who have been fully initiated into the Church. Our lives are to be continually poured out for the sake of others. As Paul says in his letter to the Philippians, we are not to be occupied with earthly things, but we are to remember our citizenship is in heaven.

Lent is the time for a renewed recommitment to emptying ourselves for the sake others with no thought of repayment or gratitude.

It is the time for pouring ourselves out for our children, even if they rarely think of the sacrifices it takes to raise them.

It is the time for spending time at the House of Charity helping people who over and over again seem unable to break themselves from the chains of addiction, or whose mental state prevents them from really understanding what they’ve been given.

It is the time for spending hours in prayer for people who never even know they’re being prayed for, and who perhaps continually make our lives miserable.

This is the call of the disciple. This is what it means to follow Jesus.

And at the end of our story, at the end of our journey, Jesus will change our lowly bodies to conform with his glorified body.

If you’re looking for some inspiration as Lent continues, you may consider watching the new Les Misérables film, though it’s definitely not for children; better yet, the book could be a part of your Lenten reading. I wouldn’t necessarily recommend the 1400 page unabridged version though that could be a Lenten penance, I suppose. My students and I read a 600 page abridged edition by Enriched Classics that’s very very good.

Whatever our Lenten inspiration is this year, whether it’s Les Misérables or some other book, movie, devotion, or practice, these forty days give us an opportunity to look at our lives and ask, “Am I stuck on Mount Tabor camping out in my tent, or have I set my face toward Jerusalem, following Jesus as his disciple?”

“Have my Baptism, First Eucharist, and Confirmation been one-time events, or do I constantly renew them by giving of myself to others in service?”

Deacon Nick

Nick Senger is a husband, a father of four, a Roman Catholic deacon and a Catholic school principal. He taught junior high literature and writing for over 25 years, and has been a Catholic school educator since 1990. In 2001 he was named a Distinguished Teacher of the Year by the National Catholic Education Association.

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