Happy Father's Day - Repost Fr. Andy Upah Homily June 20, 2021

 Homily for Nativity for Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time 6/20/2021 Fathers Day - Fr. Andy

Happy Fathers Day to all fathers, grandfathers, godfathers and spiritual fathers. 

Since it is Father’s Day, and inspired by today’s Gospel, I feel compelled to talk a little bit about being on the boat with my father.  I have many memories in the boat with dad, mostly on the lake, which is really where the Gospel story today took place - the “Sea” of Galilee is actually a big lake which would only rate as the second biggest lake in the state if it were in Iowa.

But some of my earliest memories with my dad were on the river, no, not the Mississippi River but the Iowa River, which near my hometown is a fast flowing river that in no way would be crossable on foot.  We would take our 16 foot flat bottom boat out with a little 25 horsepower motor on it, armed with poles equipped with 20 lb test and a variety of baits, searching for huge, often elusive catfish.

From early on I remember my dad putting the fear of God into me about the river.  He told me there was to be absolutely no messing around, because if I were to go in, there was no way he was coming in after me.  He often joked about the way he swam, he would always say, “I sink to the bottom and run like heck to the shore!”

But it was a dangerous place, the river, that is, it seems from time to time we would hear of people drowning, and when you were on it, you could see the swirls and imagine the undertows that went along with them, that was where we’d always try to find the big cats at. 

I enjoyed being on the boat with my dad… I was always a little nervous though... I respected the power of the river, especially since my dad, who is still the strongest man I know, respected it and took it so seriously himself.  Not even he could control the river.

In many instances in the Bible, water, the sea symbolizes a place of evil forces that only God can control.  By Jesus showing he could control the sea, He showed Himself to have the power of God, and the disciples began to recognize this: “They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?””

The disciples are learning, through this experience and several more after it (such as driving out demons and raising a girl from the dead), that Jesus is God in their midst and they must trust in Him, that their faith in Him will conquer every fear.  This is a lesson that we must learn ourselves.

How many experiences of God’s presence does it take for us to trust Him fully?  Do we fear the evil in this world that we cannot control?  Do we think that Jesus is in our boat but He is asleep?

St. Augustine suggests that Christ is not asleep in our boat, but rather it is our faith that is asleep. Augustine says, “You are afraid because you are asleep; you are tossed about on the stormy desires raised by the breath of those who tempt you to do evil because your faith is asleep. ‘Your faith is asleep’ means you have forgotten your faith.  To wake Christ means to awaken your faith, to recall what you believe.  Remember your faith; wake Christ within you.  Your faith will immediately [calm] the frightening winds and waves of those who tempt you to do evil.”

St. Augustine is dead right, it is our faith, not Jesus, that goes to sleep.  We forget those times when Jesus was really present.  We let our beliefs go, and give in to temptations, we let our faith be lulled to sleep.  

We fear because we do not trust in God as we should.

An example that I see happen almost every year is when I help lead this Kairos retreat for high school juniors.  When they come into it, they are a little afraid.  Many haven’t been living their faith very well, most people lose their faith in middle school, age 13 in fact, according to national studies. 

They might not even realize they’re afraid, they might just think they’re too cool or that this isn’t a good use of their time, but I think more often than not, those feelings are actually rooted in fear.

So, as the retreat leaders, we have to encourage them from the start, Trust The Process. TTP (- it was written in chalk outside the front door of the Nativity for a couple of months after we hosted Kairos here.)  Don’t fear, don’t anticipate, don’t worry, just Trust.

And they do, and you know what happens?  They have amazing experiences of God’s love for them.

Oftentimes, either directly or indirectly, I am asking you to do something, outside of your comfort zone, whether it be to examine your own fears or hesitancies or to come to the church on a Wednesday night for a Holy Hour, or to attend one activity or another, I am encouraging you to do something, in order to move your faith.

I am trying to be like Jesus here in the sense that I’m trying to wake you up, if you are in fact asleep.  Only you know that, but you can tell by your response to my “asks,” to these opportunities and encouragements regarding your faith.

For many of us, our faith goes to sleep, we let fear take control when we should let God, and this goes for my “asks” as well.  Often, we also might not even realize that it’s fear controlling us. It can show up as different excuses. Everyone says they’re too busy to add anything to their calendar. 

I’d like to challenge that idea by suggesting that maybe we’re just afraid to let go of something that keeps us too busy to be with God. What if we offend someone by insisting we go to Mass on Sunday when we are visiting them out of town? What if we let our kids down by not letting them compete in every single sport and thus ruin their childhood? 

What if it’s hard to make the sacrifices that God is asking of me? Even like getting up earlier so that I can go to Mass before work? I believe that it’s actually fear behind these excuses. 

Whenever we are tempted to fear, especially things that are good and Holy, we need to recognize that lack of faith and turn to Jesus, turn to God who calms the storms of our hearts with His abiding love.

As we heard Paul say in our second reading, “The love of Christ impels us.”  His love for us, our love for Him, it impels us to move forward in faith, to keep our own faith awake while encouraging others in theirs.

Paul goes on to say, “[Jesus] indeed died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.”

Jesus died to save us from our sins.  Saving His disciples on the boat from an evil they couldn’t control was just prefiguring saving them from a greater evil, our sins, which, without forgiveness, would lead us to eternal death.

And since we have been saved, “The love of Christ impels us” or should impel us, to want to bring that salvation to everyone that we know, to awaken their faith.

St. Josemaria Escriva said, “We are urged on by the charity of Christ to take upon our shoulders a part of this task of saving souls.  As a result, we will foster in ourselves a vehement desire to live as co-redeemers with Christ, to save all souls with him.”

Today, many, many people are asleep, simply because they think everyone will be saved.  For a follower of Jesus, this position does not make any sense.  We heard Jesus' question today, ““Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?””

Why is faith necessary if everyone goes to heaven?  What good is hope either?  But Jesus encourages these virtues.  

He says elsewhere, in Matthew chapter 7, “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many. How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life. And those who find it are few.”

And later in Matthew 10:28 too He says, "And do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in Gehenna."

Friends, many people have let their faith fall asleep, and this is what the evil one wants!  We need to help awaken it for them!  I cannot do this on my own, but together we can, that is why we work with Jesus to bring people the Good News of salvation through the forgiveness of our sins.

Just going to Mass when you are on vacation is a powerful witness to others.  Prioritizing Sunday Mass over everything else is a powerful witness to children. We witness the love of Jesus to others oftentimes without saying a thing.

This world is dangerous, like a boat caught in a storm on the sea or in a fast moving river, we cannot control everything, as hard as we try, we need the protection and salvation that comes from Jesus.  

Our responsibility is to first stay alert ourselves, and then to help awaken others to the evil that threatens their souls.  

May God bless and protect us all as we work for the glory of His Kingdom.

Repost National Catholic Register July 18 2020 Do Not Be Afraid

Friends of Faith:

I don't do a lot of reposting -- and this one is almost a year old, but in retrospect it is even more heartbreaking when we think about those who have been "feared" to death and some who are still "sheltering in place" even nearly 18 months later. And the division caused by the fear mongers is equally as stark in it's shouting of evil in our midst.

Please pray for faith and courage for all: for the faithful to speak the truth and for others to open their hearts to hear it. And especially for those who have given up on faith, God, and the promise made to us all -- that HE only will conquer.

I haven't changed anything except to take out pictures and page breaks. If you'd rather go to the original it is at https://www.ncregister.com/blog/coronavirus-stalks-in-the-darkness-but-do-not-be-afraid

In Constant Faith, Hope and Charity/Love,

Charlotte

July 18, 2020 - National Catholic Register - Msgr Charles Pope

Do Not Be Afraid

“You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.” (Psalm 91:5-6)

I write this from my perspective as a priest responsible for the care of souls; I do not claim to be a medical expert. My pastoral concern is that we as a nation and as a Church have succumbed to excessive fear, which bespeaks a spiritual problem. The medical concerns arising from the pandemic are not without merit, but they are not unprecedented. What is unique today is the collective paralysis brought on by this fear. I write to express my concern and to reiterate the constant biblical cry, “Do not be afraid!”

Some weeks ago, I wrote here at the Register about the crippling fear that seems to have seized the whole world, calling all to ponder that Jesus came to destroy him who holds the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death (Hebrews 2:14-15).

I cannot avoid concluding that many people indeed are “in slavery through their fear of death.” There seems to be no end in sight for the fear they feel — no solution other than a cure for COVID-19. Watching the news only exacerbates the anxiety, as the media naturally focuses on the areas where things are not going well in our fight against the virus. It has now become politicized and commercialized, because fear is recognized as one of the best ways to control people, to attract viewers, and to sell products.

What will it take to help people get their courage back? What is the endgame that public officials have in mind? Will there ever be a day when we say, “Let’s all get back to normal?” Will we always have to wear masks? Will we ever be allowed to sing, shout or cheer in public again? Will crowds ever be allowed to gather in common areas and convention centers? Will those who go about living life normally always be shamed and called selfish and irresponsible?

Let’s get into our time machine and travel back just one year. Crowds gathered freely; airports were hives of activity; planes were packed with travelers and concert halls were packed with eager listeners. Restaurants were full of diners and churches with the faithful. People shook hands and hugged, their beautiful faces uncovered for all to see. People laughed out loud, choirs sang joyfully and stadiums erupted with cheers after a score.

That was a year ago. Now so many are cowering in fear. They view every human being they encounter as a potential source of grave illness or even death: “He looks healthy, but I’d better stay far away because he may be carrying COVID-19!” Never mind a calculation of relative risks; every human contact might pose an existential threat. As a priest, I cannot imagine anything more demonic than this sort of fear. Satan wants us to fear and even detest one another. Our communion with one another is devasted by this extreme wariness.

“But Father! This is a very different virus. It’s extremely potent. We have to do this!” Again, I am neither a doctor nor a scientist. But I am a priest, and as such I think we must count the other costs. There is more to life than just not getting sick and not dying. People have lost their jobs; food production has dropped, and famine is just around the corner in some parts of the world. Routine medical care has been largely suspended. Important human events like weddings, funerals, the sacraments and enriching cultural events have been curtailed if not prohibited. Schools have closed and few have been permitted or have had the courage to reopen. There is a cost to these losses as well.

We have been through tough flu seasons before without shutting down the country. I remember in 1968 — a terrible year for many reasons — the Hong Kong Flu was raging; 100,000 Americans died from the flu that year. My grandfather was a doctor and warned us about it, but neither the country nor the world shut down. The sick were isolated; the vulnerable were given heightened protection. I remember seeing “Quarantine” signs on the doors of some of the houses in my neighborhood. If someone had the flu, the entire household was ordered to stay inside for two weeks, and that very visible sign was placed on the front door. Meanwhile, the healthy went about their work, and life continued. Yes, the death toll was high, but everyone understood that life had to go on. Years ago, there were so many dangerous illnesses to be afraid of — cholera, smallpox, tuberculosis, polio. It takes courage to live, and people of the time had that courage.

In the current pandemic, which is admittedly severe, we have quarantined the healthy along with the sick, the resilient along with the vulnerable. Crippling fear has seized so many people, and at some point, fear begins to feed on itself. We have shut down our economy, depriving many of their livelihoods and of the dignity that comes from working, from using their talents and from providing for their families.

In the Church, collectively speaking, we too have cowered and capitulated. We have not summoned people to trust and faith. We have hidden our teachings on the role of suffering in bringing forth holiness and future glory. We have not presented the theology of death and dying at a time when it is so needed.

We have limited and even denied the sacraments to the faithful, conveying the silent message that physical health is more important than spiritual health. In some dioceses, churches were locked, confessions forbidden, and Holy Communion inaccessible. Some priests who tried to supply Holy Communion to the faithful in a creative manner were criticized by liturgists and bishops. Some tried offering outdoor or “drive-in” Masses and were met with rebuke. In some cases, Mass was forbidden by local authorities, and many backed down in the face of this external pressure. While we could not recklessly disregard civil ordinances, too many of us were content to hunker down and forego public Mass. We would not utter the biblical cry, “Do not be afraid,” out of fear of being called insensitive or irresponsible.

This situation is unprecedented in our lifetime, so it is understandable that we struggled at first with what to do prudentially. But now we must reflect on all that has happened and resolve to never again allow a governor or mayor dictate whether, when or how we may give the sacraments. Even if government officials can forbid large gatherings, it does not follow that the sacraments cannot be provided at all, via other means. I never refused Holy Communion to anyone who asked me during this time; I merely gave them Holy Communion outside of public Mass. I also continued to hear confessions in the church throughout the period, grateful that my bishop never forbade it or demanded that I lock the church.

What then is to be our role as we go forward? Some universities and public schools have announced that will not reopen for normal, in-person instruction in the fall. Will we simply follow along and refuse to reopen our Catholic schools? Or will we say to our faithful that it is time to go forth into a world that has never been and will never be risk-free, balancing the needs of all against our fear of death? How long will we continue to offer public Masses in the current limited fashion? Masks hide the beauty of the human visage and the subtleties of our expressions; will we return to seeing one another smile, frown, laugh, and cry? Will we go back to shaking hands, hugging, and touching one another? Will I be able to offer Mass without retreating immediately back into the sacristy? Will parishioners be able to mingle and chat after Mass rather than running straight to their cars?

What is our end game? Prudence has its place, but my concern as a pastor and physician of souls is that we are allowing unrelenting fear to drive our response. Until we as the Church confronting the situation and “man up” as Christians should, fear will masquerade as prudence, and folks like me who question whether we’ve gone too far will be called irresponsible and even reprehensible.

For the time being, follow the recommended precautions, but ask yourself, “When will this end, and who will get to decide that?” The Church, and each one of us, has a role to play in ending the fear that this pandemic has set loose. COVID-19 can undoubtedly be a serious illness, but contracting it is far from an automatic death sentence. However, getting sick and even eventually dying is a part of living in this world. Some will call me insensitive for even mentioning this truth, but our parents, grandparents, and more distant ancestors went forth daily into a world that was far more dangerous than anything we have experienced. They lived life, accepting both its blows and its blessings. What about us today? Is God no longer with us? Are sickness and death the worst fate or is crippling fear a far more painful and dehumanizing sentence? Isn’t there more to living than just not dying or not getting sick? Will we as a Church be part of this conversation or will we remain fearfully silent? Will we simply reflect the beliefs and opinions of the current culture, or will we influence it with a theology that insists that suffering and death have meaning and an important role in our lives?

No doubt some readers will think me imprudent, irresponsible, and insensitive. I accept that. But my take is that fear is a far more serious ailment than COVID-19. Life is risky, but there is greater ruin for us if we do not accept it and live anyway. At some point we have to break out of the huddle and run the play. God will be with us.

Msgr. Charles Pope Msgr. Charles Pope is currently a dean and pastor in the Archdiocese of Washington, DC, where he has served on the Priest Council, the College of Consultors, and the Priest Personnel Board. Along with publishing a daily blog at the Archdiocese of Washington website, he has written in pastoral journals, conducted numerous retreats for priests and lay faithful, and has also conducted weekly Bible studies in the U.S. Congress and the White House. He was named a Monsignor in 2005.