When I was about 3 or 4 years old, a terrific storm of thunder and lightning shook the windows and doors. I was terrified. My mother, seeing my fear, pulled me onto her lap, wrapped her arms around me, and turned the storm into a spectacle we could watch together. Each lightning strike became a moment of awe as she exclaimed, “Ooh aah!” as if we were watching fireworks. She would hug me tight and say, “Listen! It’s going to come now!” just before the thunder rolled. That night, she cured me of my fear, replacing it with a lifelong sense of joy, excitement, love, and safety whenever I hear thunder and see lightning.

I think of that when I read about Daniel, the one whom God protected while he spent the night in the lions’ den. Daniel foretold a time of unparalleled distress, but his story wasn’t one of horror—it was one of consolation. His prophecy assures us that “your people shall escape” and that the wise and just will “shine brightly … like the stars forever.” Daniel’s night in the lions’ den was a glimpse of the bigger story of history, a story that, despite its moments of darkness, echoes Julian of Norwich’s promise: “All shall be well.”

In today’s Gospel, Jesus, knowing his own suffering and death are imminent, speaks of upheaval. His followers would later witness the sky go dark and even hear Jesus cry out in apparent abandonment. But his resurrection proclaimed the ultimate message of hope: God’s love and faithfulness are invincible. Was Jesus wrong when he said, “This generation will not pass away”? Or was he pointing to the transformation already underway through his life, death, and resurrection? The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us that Christ’s sacrifice perfected those being consecrated, signaling that God’s future is happening now, within us.