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Saturday, June 13, 2026

Do Not Be Afraid - Homily for 12th Sunday Ordinary Time - Year A (Matthew 10:26-33)

 


Homily on Matthew 10:26–33

"Do Not Be Afraid"

Today's Gospel from Matthew 10:26–33 contains one phrase that Jesus repeats three times:

"Do not be afraid."

Whenever Jesus repeats something, it is because He knows we need to hear it.

And perhaps there has never been a generation that needs to hear those words more than ours.

We live in a world filled with anxiety and uncertainty. We worry about our health, our finances, our families, our nation, and our future. We carry concerns about our children and grandchildren. We watch the news and wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Fear has a way of stealing our peace long before any actual suffering arrives.

Yet Jesus, looking into the hearts of His disciples—and into our hearts today—says:

"Do not be afraid."

Not because life will be easy.

Not because suffering will disappear.

But because we belong to Him.

And that changes everything.

But before Jesus speaks about courage, He reminds us of something essential.

Fear often grows when we think we are alone, unnoticed, or forgotten.

That is why the Lord begins not with a command, but with a reassurance. He wants His disciples to know that their lives are fully visible to God.

And so Jesus says:

"Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed, nor secret that will not be known."

At first glance, those words may seem unsettling.

But for those who love God, they are actually a source of comfort.

Because they remind us that God sees what the world often misses.

He sees the mother who stays up late praying for a struggling child.

He sees the grandfather quietly praying the Rosary for his family.

He sees the caregiver who sacrifices day after day for a spouse who is ill.

He sees the person who fights temptation and remains faithful when no one else knows the battle they are fighting.

The world often celebrates the loud, the wealthy, and the powerful.

But God notices the faithful.

There is a beautiful story from the life of Saint Mother Teresa.

One day a volunteer became discouraged because nobody seemed to appreciate the difficult work they were doing among the poor.

Mother Teresa smiled and said:

"God has not called us to be successful. He has called us to be faithful."

What mattered was not who noticed.

What mattered was that God noticed.

And He always does.

Knowing that God sees us should give us confidence.

Yet even when we know God is watching over us, another fear often creeps into our hearts.

It is the fear of what other people think.

The fear of standing out.

The fear of being different.

The fear of openly living our faith in a world that often misunderstands it.

And it is to that fear that Jesus now speaks.

Jesus says:

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."

Most of us will probably never face physical persecution.

But we do face something else.

We face the fear of being judged.

The fear of being ridiculed.

The fear of being labeled old-fashioned or intolerant.

The fear of standing firm when everyone else seems to be moving in the opposite direction.

Many Catholics know exactly what that feels like.

You bow your head and pray in a restaurant.

You defend the sanctity of life.

You uphold the teachings of Christ regarding marriage and family.

You attend Mass every Sunday while others sleep in.

And sometimes people look at you as though you're the strange one.

The temptation is to blend in.

To remain silent.

To keep our faith hidden.

But Jesus never called us to be secret disciples.

He called us to be witnesses.

Years ago, a young Marine attended Mass every Sunday while deployed overseas.

Most of the men in his unit did not share his faith.

Some mocked him.

Others joked about religion.

One Sunday morning, as he prepared to attend Mass in a makeshift chapel, another Marine laughed and asked,

"Why waste your time?"

The young Marine simply smiled and replied:

"Because if Christ was willing to die for me, the least I can do is show up for Him."

He wasn't angry.

He wasn't argumentative.

He simply lived his faith.

Years later, after returning home, he learned that the same Marine who mocked him had quietly begun attending church.

Why?

Because he had never forgotten that witness.

The young Marine didn't convert anyone through debate.

He converted someone through courage.

Never underestimate what God can do through a simple act of faithfulness.

The courage of that young Marine reminds us of an important truth:

Most acts of faith do not happen on grand stages.

They happen in ordinary moments when we choose trust over fear.

But while many of us worry about what others think, there is another fear that may be even more common.

It is the fear of what tomorrow might bring.

If we're honest, this is where many of us struggle.

We can trust God with yesterday.

We can trust Him with today.

But trusting Him with an uncertain future is much harder.

Will my health hold up?

Will my children remain faithful?

Will my grandchildren know Christ?

Will my finances last?

What will happen to our country?

What does the future hold?

Fear often grows when we focus on what we cannot control.

That is why the story of the farmer during the drought speaks so powerfully to the Christian life.

There is an old story about a farmer who endured a severe drought.

Month after month, the fields dried up.

Neighbors complained.

Many gave up hope.

Yet every morning this farmer continued to walk his property, inspecting the soil and preparing for a harvest that seemed impossible.

One neighbor finally asked,

"Why are you working so hard when there hasn't been rain for months?"

The farmer replied,

"I cannot make it rain. That's God's job. But when the rain comes, I want God to find me ready."

That is faith.

Faith does not pretend problems don't exist.

Faith simply refuses to surrender hope.

Faith says:

"I trust God even when I cannot see what He is doing."

The farmer understood something that Jesus wants His disciples to understand.

We are responsible for faithfulness.

God is responsible for the harvest.

And to illustrate that truth, Jesus points to one of the smallest creatures imaginable—a sparrow.

Jesus says:

"Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father's knowledge."

Imagine that.

The Creator of the universe notices a tiny sparrow.

The God who formed the oceans and hung the stars in the sky pays attention to the smallest details of His creation.

And then Jesus says:

"You are worth more than many sparrows."

What an extraordinary truth.

God knows your name.

He knows your story.

He knows your wounds.

He knows your disappointments.

He knows the prayer you've been repeating for years.

He knows the burden you've told almost no one about.

And He has not forgotten you.

Not for a single moment.

What a remarkable image.

A God so attentive that He notices every sparrow.

A God so loving that He counts every hair on our heads.

But what does that kind of love actually feel like?

Perhaps this simple story captures it best.

A father and his young daughter were walking through a crowded city street.

The little girl suddenly became frightened by the noise and the people rushing around her.

She looked up and said,

"Daddy, I'm scared."

The father immediately reached down and took her hand.

A few moments later he asked,

"Are you still afraid?"

She smiled and replied,

"No."

The crowd had not changed.

The noise had not changed.

The circumstances had not changed.

The only thing that changed was whose hand she was holding.

That is the Christian life.

The storms may remain.

The diagnosis may remain.

The uncertainty may remain.

But Christ reaches down and says:

"Take My hand."

And suddenly we discover that courage is not the absence of fear.

Courage is walking forward despite fear because we know we are not alone.

That little girl discovered something every Christian eventually learns.

Courage is not found in controlling circumstances.

Courage is found in trusting the One who walks beside us.

And when we truly trust Him, we become willing to stand with Him publicly, regardless of the cost.

That leads us to the final challenge Jesus gives His disciples.

Jesus concludes:

"Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father."

Brothers and sisters, the world desperately needs joyful, courageous Catholics.

Not angry Catholics.

Not fearful Catholics.

But joyful Catholics.

Catholics who trust God.

Catholics who love generously.

Catholics who forgive quickly.

Catholics who pray faithfully.

Catholics who are willing to stand with Christ even when it costs them something.

The saints were not fearless because they were extraordinary people.

They were fearless because they trusted an extraordinary God.

And the same Holy Spirit who strengthened them has been given to us.

Brothers and sisters, everything Jesus has said in today's Gospel leads to this moment.

God sees you.

God knows you.

God loves you.

Therefore, you do not need to live in fear.

As we prepare to continue with this Mass and approach this altar, imagine placing every fear you carry into the hands of Christ.

The fear for your children.

The fear for your grandchildren.

The fear for your health.

The fear for your future.

The fear that keeps you awake at night.

Place it all before Him.

Because the same Lord who calmed the storm, who raised the dead, who conquered the grave, is the Lord who speaks to us today.

And His message has not changed.

Do not be afraid.

Not because life will always be easy.

Not because suffering will never come.

But because you belong to Him.

The Father knows every hair on your head.

The Son has redeemed you with His Precious Blood.

The Holy Spirit walks beside you every step of the journey.

And if God is for us, who can be against us?

So leave this church today with confidence.

Leave with hope.

Leave with courage.

And whenever fear begins to whisper in your ear, answer it with the words of Christ Himself:

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

"Do not be afraid."

For the One who conquered death is with you now and always.

Amen.




The Harvest is Plenty, But the Laborers are Few (Homily Mathew 9:36- 10:8

 


My brothers and sisters in Christ,

Have you ever looked at the world and felt overwhelmed?

You turn on the news and see violence, division, loneliness, addiction, anxiety, depression, broken families, and people searching desperately for meaning. Sometimes it feels as though darkness is gaining ground.

Yet when Jesus looked upon the crowds, He did not respond with anger. He did not respond with frustration. He did not turn away.

The Gospel tells us:

"At the sight of the crowds, His heart was moved with pity for them, because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd."

That phrase—"His heart was moved with pity"—is one of the most beautiful descriptions of Jesus in all of Scripture.

The original Greek word means something deeper than simple sympathy. It describes a compassion that comes from the depths of one's being. Jesus doesn't merely observe human suffering. He feels it. He enters into it. He carries it.

And today, He invites us to see the world through His eyes.

The crowds around Jesus looked ordinary.

They were farmers, fishermen, mothers, fathers, laborers, widows, and children.

But Jesus saw what others could not see.

He saw hidden wounds.

He saw grief behind smiles.

He saw fears people never spoke aloud.

He saw sins that enslaved them.

He saw souls longing for God.

And when He looked upon them, His heart broke.

I sometimes think about the people we encounter every day.

The cashier at the grocery store.

The elderly man sitting alone in church.

The teenager struggling with anxiety.

The coworker whose marriage is falling apart.

The neighbor who appears successful but feels empty inside.

The person who has not prayed in years because they believe God has abandoned them.

We pass by these people every day.

Jesus does not.

He sees them.

And He calls us to see them too.

One of the greatest dangers in modern society is that we stop seeing people as souls.

We begin seeing them as political opponents, customers, employees, strangers, inconveniences, or statistics.

But Jesus sees every person as someone worth dying for.

That is the Catholic vision of human dignity.

Every person bears the image of God.

Every person is loved by Christ.

Every person has eternal value.

After seeing the crowds, Jesus says something remarkable:

"The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few."

Notice what He does not say.

He does not say the harvest is small.

He does not say people are uninterested.

He does not say the world is beyond saving.

Instead, He says the harvest is abundant.

There are souls everywhere searching for hope.

There are people longing for truth.

There are hearts waiting to encounter Christ.

The problem is not the harvest.

The problem is the lack of laborers.

The Church has always understood that every baptized Christian receives a mission.

Not just priests.

Not just bishops.

Not just deacons.

Every Catholic.

At Baptism we become disciples.

At Confirmation we become missionaries.

The Church is not a building we attend.

The Church is a mission we join.

Too many Catholics believe evangelization is somebody else's job.

"Father can do that."

"The deacon can do that."

"The parish staff can do that."

But Jesus is speaking to all of us.

You may never preach from a pulpit.

You may never travel as a missionary.

But you can witness to Christ in your home.

You can pray with your grandchildren.

You can invite someone back to Mass.

You can forgive someone who hurt you.

You can speak words of hope to someone in despair.

You can become the face of Christ to another human being.

Several years ago, a parishioner noticed an elderly gentleman sitting alone after daily Mass.

Week after week he sat quietly by himself.

One morning she felt prompted by the Holy Spirit to walk over and introduce herself.

It wasn't a grand gesture.

It wasn't a theological debate.

It was simply kindness.

Over time she learned that his wife had recently died. His children lived far away. He was lonely, grieving, and questioning whether anyone would even notice if he stopped coming to church.

So she began sitting with him after Mass.

Sometimes they talked.

Sometimes they simply sat together in silence.

Months later he told her something she would never forget.

He said, "I was thinking about giving up on church altogether. Then you came over and spoke to me. You reminded me that God had not forgotten me."

That simple act of compassion changed a life.

One conversation.

One invitation.

One laborer in the harvest.

Never underestimate what God can do through ordinary Catholics who simply make themselves available to Him.

The Gospel then lists the names of the Apostles.

It's a curious detail.

Matthew could have simply said Jesus sent twelve men.

Instead, he names them one by one.

Why?

Because God works through real people.

Peter was impulsive.

Thomas doubted.

Matthew had been a tax collector.

Simon had been a zealot.

None were perfect.

Yet Jesus called them anyway.

That should encourage every one of us.

Sometimes we think:

"I'm not holy enough."

"I don't know enough Scripture."

"I've made too many mistakes."

"I'm too old."

"I'm too young."

"I'm too busy."

The Apostles would have had every excuse in the world.

Yet Jesus called them.

And He still calls ordinary people today.

The Church has never been built by perfect people.

It has always been built by forgiven people.

Then Jesus gives the Apostles their mission:

"Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons."

At first glance, these commands seem extraordinary.

Yet they reveal the heart of Christ.

The mission of the Church is to bring healing.

The world is wounded.

People are spiritually sick.

Many are deadened by sin.

Many feel isolated and untouchable like the lepers of old.

Many are trapped by addictions, fear, despair, and hopelessness.

The Church exists to bring Christ's healing presence into that brokenness.

Every sacrament is an encounter with the healing Christ.

In Baptism, He washes us.

In Confession, He forgives us.

In the Eucharist, He nourishes us.

In Anointing, He strengthens us.

Through the Church, Christ continues His healing ministry.

This is why the Eucharist is so essential.

When we come to Mass, we do not simply remember Jesus.

We encounter Him.

The same Christ who looked upon the crowds with compassion is present on our altar today.

The same Christ who healed the sick still heals souls through the sacraments.

The same Christ who sent the Apostles now sends us.

Then comes one of the most important lines in the Gospel:

"Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give."

Everything we possess is a gift.

Our faith is a gift.

Our salvation is a gift.

The Eucharist is a gift.

God's mercy is a gift.

None of us earned Calvary.

None of us purchased the Resurrection.

Everything begins with grace.

And because we have received freely, we must give freely.

The world teaches us to ask:

"What do I get out of this?"

Jesus teaches us to ask:

"How can I serve?"

The saints understood this.

St. Francis understood it.

St. Thérèse understood it.

St. Mother Teresa understood it.

They received Christ and then gave Him away.

That is the pattern of Christian discipleship.

Receive.

Then give.

Love God.

Then love others.

Encounter Christ.

Then bring Him to the world.

My brothers and sisters,

The crowds Jesus saw two thousand years ago still exist today.

They are all around us.

People are still troubled.

People are still abandoned.

People are still searching for a shepherd.

The question is not whether there is a harvest.

The harvest is abundant.

The question is whether we will answer the call.

Whether we are priests, deacons, religious, married, single, young, or old, Christ sends each of us into the harvest.

Not tomorrow.

Today.

Perhaps not across the world.

But across the street.

Across the office.

Across the dinner table.

Across the parish.

Because somewhere nearby is a person who needs hope.

A person who needs mercy.

A person who needs Christ.

And perhaps God has chosen you to bring Him there.

So this week, ask the Lord for eyes that see as He sees.

Ask Him for a heart that feels as He feels.

Ask Him for the courage to become a laborer in His harvest.

For the harvest is still plentiful.

The laborers are still needed.

And Christ is still calling.

Amen.