A couple of weeks ago I visited my dentist for my biannual cleaning and checkup.

As he was "probing" the inside of my mouth—which, as you might imagine, is a big job given its size—he happened to discover a filling that needed to be replaced.

He said, "Father Ray, I’d rather not see you make another appointment to get this taken care of; why don’t I do it right now? And let’s try it without any novocaine. But don’t worry, if the pain gets unbearable, I’ll stop and give you a shot."

I said, "Uh . . . okay."

So he began to remove the old filling with his little drilling instrument—you know, the one that makes that awful screeching sound—and almost immediately I felt a slight jolt of pain. Then I felt another—and another. In my mind I prayed, "Dear Lord, please don’t let it get any worse. I can deal with what I’ve felt so far—but not much more."

Well shortly thereafter, the pain stopped. He continued his drilling operation for a couple of minutes, and every 30 seconds or so he would ask, "Does that hurt at all? Do you need some novocaine?" Each time I answered, "No." (Thank God you can still say "Yes" and "No" with somebody’s hands in your mouth!)

After the tooth was re-filled he said to me, "When I questioned you during the drilling, you weren’t feeling any pain?"

I replied, "No."

He said, "That’s amazing, because you should have been feeling something. That filling was a lot deeper than I thought."

I said, "Well, obviously the good Lord took care of me."

He said, "That’s for sure."

There’s a well-known meditation written by St. Francis de Sales in which the great saint says, "God will either shield you from suffering, or give you the unfailing strength to bear it."

I’m very grateful that in the dentist’s office the other day the Lord did the former. Unfortunately, he doesn’t always act in that fashion—he doesn’t always shield me from suffering—but in this particular case he did.

I take some consolation in the fact that God didn’t always shield the apostles from suffering either. Today’s Gospel story provides us with a case in point. The experience Peter, James and John had on Mount Tabor—the experience of seeing Jesus Christ transfigured—was given to them in view of a suffering they would experience within a few short weeks: our Lord’s crucifixion and death. Jesus was well aware of the sadness, confusion and grief that would threaten to overwhelm these men at that time. After all, they had left everything to follow him; they believed he was the Messiah; they had lived with him and worked with him for 3 years. And even though he had already spoken to them about his death, he knew they would not initially understand it and what it meant for the salvation of the human race. (That understanding would only come after Pentecost.) So Jesus gave them a little glimpse of his divinity on that mountain—a brief revelation of his eternal glory: something they could hold onto as they struggled to cope with the terrible events of Good Friday. Jesus didn’t shield them from that suffering, but he offered them—in the words of St. Francis de Sales—the unfailing strength to bear it. As they watched our Lord die, they were to remember the glorious Jesus whom they saw on the mountain that day, and trust that he would somehow win the final victory. They were also to remember the 3 witnesses who testified on Jesus’ behalf during the event: Moses, Elijah, and—first and foremost—God the Father!

This brings us to what I would call one of the practical messages of the Transfiguration: Remembering the lessons of the past in the present moment brings hope for the future. That’s what the apostles were supposed to do, and that’s what we need to do with respect to our own trials and difficulties.

So I ask you this morning: What has God taught you in the past through your sufferings? Spend some time this week in prayer pondering that question. . . . What has God taught you in the past through your sufferings? Has he taught you that he’s faithful? Has he taught you that he always gives you the grace you need when you need it? Has he taught you that worrying about the future when you’re in pain is a waste of time? (He’s taught me that one on many occasions!) Has he taught you the importance of prayer and the sacraments in dealing with suffering? Has he taught you to offer it up? Has he taught you that other people are very often his gifts of consolation and support in difficult times? Has he taught you that repenting of your sins can sometimes make suffering easier to bear and even eliminate a portion of it?

What has God taught you in the past through your sufferings? Pray about that during the next several days. And when you do come to recognize the things the Lord has taught you through your past sufferings, I highly recommend that you write them down. Do that as a service to yourself: so that you will be able to recall those lessons quickly the next time you experience a terrible trial in your life. That will give you a measure of hope for the future in the midst of your present pain.

Let me conclude my homily now by quoting St. Francis de Sales’ entire meditation. Appropriately enough, I’ll give this great saint the last word: