This is the edited text of the Homily for the Second Sunday of Lent and the launch of the National Year of Prayer for Eucharist28, given by Archbishop Anthony Fisher OP at St Mary’s Cathedral, Sydney, on 1 March 2026.
A few weeks ago, a 15-second video clip went viral showing Hollywood action stars Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise locked in an elaborate fight on a crumbling rooftop. There were sweeping camera angles, stunt choreography, crisp sound effects – everything we’d expect of a multi-million-dollar blockbuster.
Except that it wasn’t. It was in fact the result of a two-line prompt typed into the AI video generator, Seedance 2.0, just released by TikTok co-owners ByteDance. On viewing the clip one famous screenwriter lamented simply, “It’s over for us.” Disney immediately issued a cease and desist order, and the other studios, actors’ unions, and intellectual property lawyers all scrambled to understand what it will mean for them.
If a short instruction to an AI could generate something so polished and convincing that millions believed it was real footage, where does that leave Hollywood?
Can we trust what we see?
The same question must have run through the minds of Peter, James and John today (Mt 17:1-9). Jesus took them up a high mountain, and “There, in their presence, he was transfigured: his face shone like the sun and his clothes like white light.” It was agoging, something completely unparalleled in their experience. They struggled even for a word to describe it, and their word μετεμορφώθη (metemorfōthē), that we translate “transfigured”, wouldn’t have helped people understand much at all.
Next up, Moses and Elijah appear, then a bright cloud covered them, and then a divine voice declared Jesus His Beloved, His favoured, His to-be-listened-to Son. Peter babbles in response and then the three fall on their faces in awe. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Not because it was a fabrication, but because it was real and awesome. They had witnessed the glory of God shining on a human face.
Peter’s instinct was all too human, “Lord, this is wonderful. Why don’t I build three tabernacles, so I can freeze this moment forever.” Fair enough: when we encounter God, we naturally want it to last. But Jesus Himself isn’t looking for limelight. God the Father had already confirmed His identity as “the Beloved Son” at the Baptism in Jordan. There had already been many hints that He was greater than the prophets. So if this is not especially for or about Jesus, who is it for and about? It was for the apostles, and in turn those to whom it was reported, for us: so their understanding and ours – of God, of Christ, and of ourselves – would be transfigured.
Encounter, transformation, mission: the three elements at the heart of this story are the three dimensions of discipleship; they are also three moments of every Eucharist. Every Mass is an invitation into the presence of the living God. We climb the steps into this cathedral, into the sanctuary or pulpit, like climbing Mount Tabor with Jesus. As the incense swirls, we experience the cloud surrounding the apostles. As the Scriptures are proclaimed, we hear God the Father speak. In the candlelight, the stained glass, especially in the white host, we see the glory of Christ. We see the very one the Three saw unveiled that day: His flesh and blood, His body and soul, His humanity and divinity, all He is, given for us.
As St Thomas Aquinas put it: in this “sacred banquet… Christ is received, the memory of His passion is renewed, the soul is filled with grace, and we are given a pledge of future glory.” The Eucharist is our encounter with the Transfigured One.
If prepare ourselves before Mass with fasting and prayer; if we examine our consciences in the penitential rite; if we attend to the readings, homily, and prayers; if we offer ourselves along with the bread and wine brought forward at the Offertory; if we bring our dreams and disappointments as prayers to add to the prayers of the Church; if we worship and receive the Sacrament as worthily as we can, and give thanks afterwards – we can be transformed too, conformed to the likeness of the transfigured Christ.
And thus transformed, we are ready to be sent. To a world so broken and divided, by ancient hatreds and deadly violence today, we are sent, to be as Christ the Prince of Peace, to be as Christ a force for reconciliation, for love, for brotherhood, in a world so broken and divided. We are sent to bring Christ to the world and the world to Christ. To carry the Shining One in our hearts to others. To reach out, sharing our faith, giving cause for hope, expressing love in deeds of service.
All around our cathedral today you see banners with seven short words, spoken by Christ at the Last Supper. These words will be the heart of the 54th International Eucharistic Congress in Sydney in 2028: “This is my Body, given for you.” Our journey to and through Eucharist28 will unfold like that of the first apostles, through three stages of encounter, transformation, and mission.
The first phase – of encounter – has already begun: a period of preparation, not merely logistical but spiritual, encountering the Eucharistic Lord, so that the hearts of our Archdiocese and our nation will be receptive when we come to the Eucharistic Congress.
That will be the second – transformation – phase: a Congress bookended by an opening Mass and the final Mass; a theological conference; a week of worship, catechesis, concerts, celebrations; an unforgettable Eucharistic procession through the streets of Sydney; and Mass in the many rites and languages, parishes and cultures of our local Church. For a week or so, the faithful and all those in our city will reverberate with Faith and be transformed.
The third “mission” phase will stretch to 2033, the two thousandth anniversary of Christ’s Death and Resurrection, but also of the first Eucharist. We will long continue to harvest the fruits of the Congress with stronger faith, deeper devotion, revitalised parishes, and whatever surprises God has in store for us!
But each phase will rely on prayer. And so, this year has been designated a Year of Prayer in preparation for Eucharist28. A year for us to deepen our communion with Christ so that we might be ready for all that lies ahead. A year of openness to encountering Him in our daily lives, ascending the mountain of the Lord as often as we can for Mass, adoration, prayer. To see Him, be with Him, share with Him our joys and anxieties, our hopes and thanks. To ask Him to transform us by His grace and make us fruitful. As our Psalmist puts it (Ps 32/33): “Our soul is waiting for the Lord, for the Lord is our help and our shield. May your love be upon us, O Lord, as we place all our hope in you!”
Dear friends, in a world of striking fabrications and less impressive fakes, the Eucharist stands as the great counterclaim: that rather than making the ordinary seem extraordinary, God makes the ordinary actually extraordinary, bread and wine made Christ’s Body and Blood. The disciples came down from the mountain changed. Christ was readying them for their Lenten journey ahead. As we join them on that way, we pray that through Eucharist28 each of us, our loved ones, our city, our nation will receive that Body He has given for us and so be transfigured with Him.
