Fearless Faith - A Homily for the Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

 

            A few weeks ago, a video swept the internet about a little boy in Patrocinio, Brazil named João Miguel. In the video, João Miguel, without fear or hesitation and armed only with his simple, child-like faith, approaches Fr. Artur Oliveira as he’s giving his homily. He interrupts the priest and asks him to pray for his Uncle Flavio, who was hospitalized on a respirator with a new strain of the COVID-19 virus. João Miguel sounds a lot like Jairus and the hemorrhaging women we meet in our Gospel, who both showed the same fearless faith that led João Miguel to the steps of the altar. The kind of faith we need more of today.

          If our readings today tell us anything it’s that faith in God saves. Our first reading from the Book of Wisdom assures us that “God did not make death the final dissolution of human beings.” [1] Creation has a positive goal. Our Psalmist agrees, singing praise to God with the faith-filled conviction that “no matter what kind of suffering or hardship we experience here on earth, a glorious resurrection of our bodies awaits us if we are faithful.”[2] And our Gospel proves it.

Today’s Gospel serves us a Markan Sandwich—a story within a story that’s typical of the Gospel of Mark. In the first story, Jairus, a synagogue official, risks the scorn of his community to beg Jesus to heal his dying daughter. In the second story, the hemorrhaging woman violates the law to seek Jesus’ healing power— the law that prohibited the ritually unclean from approaching anyone. In both stories, our petitioners set life-draining illnesses at Jesus’ feet, hoping for God’s help; in both stories, their prayers are answered; and in both stories, fearless faith in God through Jesus Christ heals and restores the victims to the fullness of life.

          So what kind of faith are we talking about here? Well, you’ll notice that both healing stories involve touch. The woman touches Jesus’ cloak, and she’s healed; Jesus takes the little girl’s hand, and she rises. In both cases, “the inner conviction that physical contact accompanied by faith in Jesus’ saving power . . . was rewarded.”[3] So the faith that Jesus acknowledges in the woman and Jairus, the faith we’re called to imitate, requires an intimate encounter with Jesus. “The way to experience Jesus’ saving power is to reject fear and yield to faith, a deeply personal faith that comes into living contact with him.”[4] You’ll recall that the disciples were incredulous when Jesus asked who touched him. Everyone was touching him, but only one was healed, the one who set her fears aside and touched him with a hand of faith.

          The meticulously literal among us may ask, “How do we touch Jesus when he’s not physically here to touch?” I offer two easy suggestions. First, we pray. “While some might approach prayer as if ordering from a menu, the purpose of prayer—be it petition, praise, or penitence—is to bring us into an encounter with the God of life who desires the encounter more than we do.”[5] In prayer, we spend time with Jesus, we talk with him, we lay our problems at his feet, and we listen for his guidance and inspiration through the movement of the Holy Spirit in our lives. In prayer, we get in touch with Jesus.

Second, we come to Church and receive Jesus in the Eucharist. The Eucharist is the source and summit of our faith, and the sacraments are the privileged place of encounter with the divine in Jesus Christ. Why? Because the sacraments are the visible sign of an invisible reality. So in the Eucharist, the visible signs of bread and wine convey the invisible reality of Jesus’ real presence—body, blood, soul, and divinity—among us. We can’t get much closer to Jesus than when we receive him faithfully in the Eucharist and carry him out into the world to do his will. In the Eucharist, we touch Jesus, and Jesus touches us.

Now, I’ll be the first to acknowledge that faith has gotten a bad rap—it’s considered irrational or naïve by modern standards, especially considering the seemingly endless pain, suffering, and death that accompany our human experience. It’s become downright unpopular to be a person of faith these days, and many are afraid to express their beliefs for fear of ridicule at best, and persecution at worst. Even Jesus was laughed at by the crowd in today’s Gospel when he suggested that faith would heal the little girl. But Jesus and Jairus and the hemorrhaging woman had faith in God anyway. The girl lived, and the woman was healed. That same faith carried Jesus up Calvary on Good Friday and proved three days later that fearless faith can even conquer death for good.

Through a “so-close-you-can-touch-him” encounter with Christ, our lives are no longer defined by the pain, suffering, and death we inevitably experience. United in faith with Jesus, we become the fearless daughters and sons of God we were meant to be from the beginning. Fearless faith, then, gives new meaning to our lives, even in suffering, “a meaning that is profound and ultimate, and stable no matter what may happen. . . . Men and women of this kind of faith face catastrophe or confusion, affluence or sorrow unperturbed, [they] face opportunity with conviction and drive, and [they] face others with self-forgetting charity.”[6] It’s no surprise that countless psychological studies confirm that people of faith are happier and healthier and that they rebound more quickly and permanently from illness and personal tragedy.

If you don’t believe me, ask João Miguel. A later video confirms that João Miguel’s prayers were answered. His Uncle Flavio came off the respirator within a week of João Miguel’s request for prayers and left the hospital not long after. When asked by Fr. Oliveira why his uncle got better, João Miguel proudly replies, “Because we prayed a lot, and God helped us!” Of course, not every prayer is answered the way we might wish, but fearless faith gives us the comfort of knowing that God will grant everything we request with faith and trust if it’s what’s best for us. “If God does not grant our request, it is because he has greater blessings in store for our benefit.”[7] João Miguel, Jairus, and the hemorrhaging woman are wonderful examples of the kind of fearless faith we all need to face life’s challenges, the kind of faith that heals us, saves us, and restores us to the fullness of life as daughters and sons of God.

 Readings: Wisdom 1:13-15, 2:23-24; Psalm 30; 2 Corinthians 8:7, 9, 13-15; Mark 5:21-43

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[1] Daniel Durken, ed., The New Collegeville Bible Commentary: Old Testament (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2015), 1154.

[2] Jeffrey Cole, ed., The Didache Bible (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2014), 632n.

[3] United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, New American Bible, rev. ed. (Washington, DC: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2015), 1663n.

[4] Mary Healy, The Gospel of Mark (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2008), 110.

[5] Mary M. McGlone, “The Inside Story,” National Catholic Reporter 57, 8 (June 11-24, 2021), 19.

[6] Charles Hefling, Why Doctrines, 2^nd ed. (Chestnut Hill: The Lonergan Institute, 2000), 20.

[7] Cole, 1323n.

 

No Other Way

            A faithful servant of God died this week. I was honored to preach his funeral Mass.

 

        We come together today to celebrate a remarkable man—a man who respected the God-given dignity in everyone; a man who lived a purpose-filled life in selfless service to others; a man who bore his cross with unfailing faith in a God who saves; a man who taught us that the meaning of life is love. The man we celebrate today, of course, is Jesus Christ, and Tom Eisenhart would have it no other way.

          You see, Tom knew that in the face of death, the Church confidently proclaims that God created each person for eternal life. Tom knew that God sent his only Son, Jesus Christ, to reconcile all of humanity with God, to open the gates of heaven to all so we can enjoy a life of perfect love, happiness, and peace united with God forever. And Tom knew that we celebrate the Paschal mystery, Christ’s passion, death, and resurrection, at every Mass, including a funeral Mass, to offer our praise and thanksgiving for God’s great mercy, for Jesus’ selfless sacrifice, and for the gift of eternal life.

Tom also knew that Jesus didn’t just open the gates of heaven and leave us to our own devices to figure out how to get there. In his teachings and his own example, Jesus showed us the way—a way of living that can be summarized in one word: love. Jesus makes clear in our Gospel that the greatest commandment is to love God with all our hearts, all our souls, and all our minds. And though he was only asked for the greatest, Jesus throws in the second greatest as well because they’re so closely linked—the commandment to love our neighbor as ourselves. Again, Jesus didn’t just talk the talk, he showed us by living in perfect, loving fidelity to God and in selfless, loving charity to all of humanity.

          Our job, then, the very meaning of our lives, is to love, and Tom knew that. Now, I’ll be the first to admit, and I’m sure Tom would agree, that it isn’t always easy to love God and our neighbor. Life has no shortage of hardships, illness, and suffering, and the death of someone so dear to us makes it hard to believe that God really loves us, and it challenges our ability to love him back. Add to that the fact that sometimes we just don’t feel very loving, and sometimes the people around us aren’t very lovable, and this whole love God, love our neighbor thing seems downright impossible. Yet, it’s in these times that we’re called to love even more, to run the race as if to win it—one step at a time. That’s why Saint Paul, in our second reading, challenges us to keep preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ in our words and our actions with patience, courage, constancy, and endurance. As one biblical scholar aptly put it, “The Christian must count every time as an opportunity to speak for Christ,” and the best way to speak for Christ is to love. Tom Eisenhart knew that.

          How do I know? I know because Tom Eisenhart loved. While Tom was famous, perhaps notorious, for loving loud and proud at sporting events and graduations, most of the time Tom was the quiet guy in the background loving God and neighbor through simple acts of selfless service. That’s the Tom I encountered the most. In fact, if you were to draw a circle around me with a 20-foot radius, you’d mark the place where I encountered Tom the most. Right here, every Sunday in the Church he loved, I’d find Tom carrying the bags, setting up or taking down chairs, watering the piano (yes, you heard that right), bickering with Diane over the placement of the microphones, making sure the communion tray had a cup for the choir, making sure I knew if it didn’t, and quietly doing whatever needed to get done so we could celebrate Jesus with all due honor and respect.

And that’s just what Tom did in this 20-foot radius circle. He also served our Church as a catechist for 30 years, as a Eucharistic minister at Mass and for the homebound, and in countless ministries. Tom served the country he loved as well, seeing active duty in Vietnam, where, not surprisingly, he was awarded the Bronze Star for Meritorious Service. And if a wife, six children, fifteen grandchildren, one great-grandchild, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews and in-laws weren’t enough to serve and love, and he loved you all with every ounce of his being, Tom still found time to love countless friends, friends of friends, and complete strangers, offering his help and support to anyone who needed it. He even found it in his “Iron Heart” to love this poor deacon. Whether he was just saying hello, asking me a question, challenging something I said in a homily, telling me I did a good job, or telling me what I did wrong or what I failed to do, Tom always treated me with the loving respect that every child of God deserves.

Diane said it perfectly, “Tom was truly a servant of all and yes, sometimes maddeningly so.” Tom was a servant of all not for any earthly glory, but because he knew that this life wasn’t about him; it’s about Him—Jesus Christ. It’s about living the way Jesus taught us to live so that we can share in the great gift of eternal life that Jesus purchased for us with His life. Tom knew that life is meant to be lived loving God through selfless service to others and that there’s no other way. So if you want to honor Tom, believe. Believe that because He lives, Tom lives. Believe that through a life lived in loving, selfless service to others, we, too, can win the crown of righteousness that awaits us. If you want to honor Tom, don’t imitate Tom. Imitate the man Tom modeled his life after, the man we celebrate today—Jesus Christ. Tom would have it no other way.

Readings: Ecclesiastes 3:1-8; 2 Timothy 4:1-8; Matthew 22:34-40