Casting Out Fear

When I was a teenager, there were a few clothing brands that it seemed like all the cool kids wore. I was not a particularly cool kid, but I still was able to convince my mom to buy me one or two of those T-shirts that I thought would make me cool. I remember the first one I ever got was from the brand No Fear, and it had some pithy, slightly ridiculous saying on it about not being afraid.

I look back on that with a smile and a shake of the head; 14-year-old me didn’t really know what fear was. In many ways, perhaps I still don’t, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of things that I think I’m afraid of, no matter what kind of clothes I have on: fear of failure, fear of rejection, even fear of public speaking, which I’ve managed to overcome at least in part.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to the hearts and minds of his disciples, touching upon what must have been the deepest fear for many of them – the fear of death and bodily harm. Life was precarious in the ancient world, with the threat of violence, disease, poverty ever present. Jesus knows that his listeners would have faced a constant struggle of how to provide for themselves and their families, how to avoid confrontation and conflict with those around them, how to not run afoul of the authorities who could cause them trouble – how to survive basically from one day to the next.

Does any of that sound familiar? Maybe our fears are slightly different than those of Jesus’s day, but if we’re honest with ourselves, we worry about many of the very same things: health, well-being, security, liberty, happiness. And not only do we worry, but we also experience the pain and the loss that comes as part of life. In light of all that, perhaps we wonder then how exactly Jesus can tell us to “Fear no one.” Okay, yes, we need to have faith through it all, but isn’t it a little bold for him to say that we shouldn’t be afraid of all these things that are worth being afraid of?

The answer, of course, is that we must remember who is speaking. Jesus was never afraid of being bold, or of challenging those who heard him. But Jesus’s words are not empty, but are backed up by his own life. As the Son of the Father, he knows of what he speaks, which is why we can trust him when he tells us that there is nothing to fear when we know we are loved. The answer to our greatest fears – death, sorrow, loss – is the perfect love of the Father. All that we experience is seen by him, and he holds us all of us in his grasp.

If all of that sounds a little too neat and nice, then let’s remember Jesus’s own life. He trusted in the love of his Father to such a degree that he was not afraid of those who sought to destroy him; though surely afraid at some level of his being, he also went joyfully and confidently to the Cross, knowing that it was the very means of giving all of us a share in the perfect love of the Father. But Jesus also knew that the Father would raise him – that the perfect love of the Father would not permit death to have the final word but would instead reveal the gracious gift, as St. Paul calls it (Rom 5:15), which is the resurrection of the body. If we’re listening closely to what Jesus says today, he is giving us a preview of the truth of the Resurrection. And it’s that ultimately which helps us to face our fears – indeed, to cast them out: that we believe that no matter what harm or loss or sorrow may befall us, the Father will restore and resurrect all in his perfect love. God will have the last word, not our fears.

Christ the Teacher mosaic (4th c.), Basilica of Saint Constance, Rome

 Perhaps now we can see how Jesus calls us to not be afraid. It’s not by thinking we are so strong or so courageous, as if we can deny our fears entirely. Rather, it’s only by placing our fears within a larger framework of love – contextualizing them, allowing them to be answered by a faith and a trust in the One who himself has passed through death into the eternal life of the Resurrection. And that’s why Jesus says that in the end the only thing to fear is losing out on all of that – being afraid not of the destruction of the body, or anything that might happen to us from outside, but what can happen from inside, the destruction of the soul through our sin, our pride, and our self-justification. A lot of our sins are motivated ultimately by our fears: fear of feeling pain; fear of being criticized; fear of being alone; fear of missing out on something. Today, Jesus tells us, “Don’t be afraid of those things; don’t let your fears compromise your love and your trust in my Father, such that you risk losing what he wishes to give you.”

Do you know what sums up all of this perfectly? That which we do here at Mass. We come with our hearts full of anxiousness and worry, but also commending ourselves to the love of God, trusting that he loves us and trying to love him. And we listen to his word to us, and we respond with faith renewed. And then we participate in the very proof of that love which is the Sacrament of the Altar – when the mystery of Jesus’s self-offering, his death and resurrection, is made present again for us. And receiving that gracious gift (Rom 5:15) of he who once was dead but now lives forever, our hope of sharing in his Resurrection is strengthened and deepened, so that as we face the things that bring us fear and worry, as we seek to live out the joy of the Gospel that Jesus calls us to, we can have the confidence of perfect love which casts out all fear (1 Jn 4:18).

Friends, ask the Lord to give you some insight this week about your own fears. Where are you being tempted to lose your faith, to lose your love because of your worries and anxieties? And then ask him to give you an even deeper insight into the perfect love that the Father has for you, a love that the Son has shared with you by his blood, a love that, if you believe in it, can cast out your fears. May this Eucharist and every Eucharist we celebrate give us the foretaste of receiving one day the fullness of the gracious gift the Lord has prepared for us.

Care from the Heart

The green vestments I am wearing indicate, if we weren’t already aware, that we are now back in Ordinary Time. In fact, we’ve been in Ordinary Time for a few weeks, ever since Pentecost Sunday. We’re only now switching to green vestments though because on the last few Sundays we’ve celebrated some special feasts that come this time of year: the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity two weeks ago, and the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ last Sunday.

There’s one more special feast that often gets overlooked, and that’s because it’s celebrated on a Friday – the Friday of this past week, in fact. The Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus is sort of the crowning feast of this time of year, and perhaps for that reason, the month of June has long been associated with devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The history of that devotion is too long to get into here, but briefly, in the modern form is roots date from the 17th century. Figures like St. Margaret Mary Alacoque and St. John Eudes, and groups like the Society of Jesus, helped to popularize the devotion of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and its basic message – that in the Heart of Jesus we see the depth of God’s love for his people.

In today’s Gospel, we hear more about Jesus’s Sacred Heart, and how it is moved with pity at those who are “troubled and abandoned.” Rather than merely feel compassion toward the crowds, Jesus acts to help them. He sends out select disciples to go and minister in his name, giving them the authority to preach, to heal, and to sanctify. And we are told the name of these twelve men, who are called apostles, which means “one who is sent.” They are the twelve apostles who will be Jesus’s closest collaborators throughout his ministry, and indeed the ones who will be charged with continuing that ministry in and through the Church.

In other words, the Gospel today tells us it is out of the compassion and love of Jesus’s own heart that he has called and sent ordained ministers to serve his Church. And that is still true today. Those who are trusted with ordained ministry – whether it’s the original twelve apostles; or their successors, whom we call “bishops”; or their collaborators, the presbyters; or the special servants that we call deacons – Jesus calls and sends all his ordained ministers to care for his flock with compassion – with love, and not just with their own imperfect love, but with the love of his Sacred Heart.

Sacred Heart of Jesus (1767) by Pompeo Batoni

I’ve found sometimes that there’s a danger when a member of the clergy starts talking about ordained ministry. It can come across as self-serving, as self-glorifying. Certainly we all know that there are some clergy who have sought to serve themselves, mistreating or even abusing the flock entrusted to them for their own gain. But the reality is that the majority of us clergy whom the Lord calls do what we do not for ourselves, but for you. We try to respond to the Lord’s command to sanctify, teach, minister – not because it’s all about us, but because it’s all about *you* and the Lord’s love for you. I think sometimes this basic point gets missed when we gather here on Sundays – how everything that is done here is done because of Jesus’s love for you. The Lord calls the priest and deacon to proclaim, to preach, to consecrate, to bless – all so that you can go forth from here to minister to the world.

And that’s the final takeaway for today. What Jesus gives you, he also asks you to share: as he says at the end of today’s Gospel, “without cost you have received, without cost you are to give.” Jesus loves you, and has compassion for you, and has sent his ministers to care for you, so that having been made holy, you will then go and share those gifts with others. We who are ordained ministers do that for you, the lay faithful. And you are called to do the same, in your own way – in your homes, in your places of work, in your families, in every aspect of your life. The Lord sends you now to those who whom you know who are troubled and abandoned, that they too might receive his care and love. In this way, the Lord is sanctifying all the world, making for himself what God foretold to Moses: “a kingdom of priests, a holy nation.”

Friends, as we prepare to celebrate the Eucharist, let’s remember that it is the transforming love of Jesus that has gathered us together this day. And, as priests and people alike, let’s focus ourselves anew on what the Lord has called us to, and what he sends us to do – to preach, to proclaim, to sanctify, each in our own way, always with the love and compassion of his Sacred Heart.

Believing in Love

It is a pleasure to be here with you all on Trinity Sunday. Today’s feast happens to fall this year on the first Sunday of June, a month which in recent years has become associated with cultural dialogues about love, identity, and the authentic nature of self. There’s a lot that could and should be said about those cultural dialogues and about how they relate to our lives and our Catholic faith. But for the moment, perhaps it’s enough to say that these themes of love and identity are at the heart of today’s feast – not only in terms of how we understand ourselves but in how we understand God. Allow me to explain what I mean.

The reading we just heard was short – only three lines taken from the Gospel of John, the first of which was: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life.” This passage, John 3:16, is maybe the most famous in all of the Bible, and rightly so: it sums up perfectly, in his own words, Jesus’s identity. He speaks these words to the Pharisee Nicodemus, who has come to him at night in search of answers about who he is. And Jesus gives them to him: he is the Son of God, sent so that we might believe in him and thus receive salvation rather than the condemnation we deserve by virtue of our sins. Jesus’s presence among us, the whole reason for his coming, is due to love: the love of God for human beings.

How important it is for us to return to this idea again and again! So often our understanding of God, and our ideas about religion and faith generally, can become sidetracked into other things. We might even wonder, “Does God love me? Does he care about what I am going through?” And the answer is YES – God himself, in the person of Christ, tells us today that his love is at the root of everything. The foundation of God’s entire focus toward us human beings is saving love. And the reason for that is because God himself *is* love, as we know from the First Letter of John. That’s what we celebrate today in the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity. Who God is, is Love – a communion of Love, between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And as God reveals his own identity to us, he also invites us, amazingly, to participate in that identity: we as mere human being can come to know the divine love of the holy Trinity, be caught up in it even now, and even share in it forever in eternal life.

But if all of that sounds great, here’s the challenging part: where do we see God’s love most clearly and visibly? In the Cross. In the history of Christian art, some of the most frequent depictions of the Holy Trinity are with Jesus on the Cross, with the Father and the Holy Spirit above him, showing him to the viewer. That’s because more than any of Jesus’s sermons, more than any of his miracles, more than anything else he does, it is his suffering and death that reveal the depth and totality of God’s love. Jesus makes reference to this in the same dialogue with Nicodemus that our Gospel passage comes from. He says that we human beings are asked to believe in the love that is revealed when the Son of Man is lifted up – in other words, when he Jesus will be raised up on the Cross. It’s in the Cross of Christ that we come to know and believe in the saving love of God, the love he has for sinful humanity.

The Most Holy Trinity (1625) by Guido Reni 

And this is important for us, too, because if it’s true that we sometimes lose sight of love as being at the heart of who we are and what we believe, it’s also true that we too often think of love in some way other than how God reveals it – the love of the Cross. You and I experience love in all kinds of ways. We know it through our families, through our friends, through love of the world and what is in it, even through a proper love of ourselves and our own identities, unique among creation. But all of these loves, good as they may be in some way, also must be purified. Because we exist in a fallen world, and because we are ourselves are fallen, our loves can be distorted – they can distract us from or even lead us away from true Love itself, Love with a capital L, which is the love that Jesus has revealed on the Cross. This is the love that God has for us, but it’s also the love that he calls us to have – to imitate, to strive for, and to be purified in our own manner of loving, so that our love may be ever more fashioned in the love of the Cross.

Perhaps we might think today about how we think of love: love as an abstract idea, as a cultural touchstone, and above all love as it is lived out in our lives and the lives of those we know. And perhaps we might each ask ourselves: How are my notions and experiences of love rooted in the love of God? Are my loves self-serving, or do they try to imitate and be purified by the sacrificial love that God has revealed for me in the Cross? How can my ways of loving myself and others be directed not toward earthly ends but toward sharing one day in the eternal love of the Holy Trinity?

To answer these questions, my friends, surely all of us, in some way or another, must seek out Jesus, like Nicodemus did, and find in him again the authentic identity of what it means to love. This month of June that we have begun has for centuries been the month dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus – the devotion which sums up everything I’ve said. The love of God, the love that is his very identity as Holy Trinity, is revealed to us in the Cross of Christ. He continues to love us now, and with the continuing love of his Sacred Heart, he calls us to encounter the love of the Cross, to believe in it, and to conform our own ways of loving to it. 

May the Eucharist that we celebrate this day help us to experience anew the saving love of the Holy Trinity, so that by our own sacrificial, Christlike love we may be led to eternal life.