“When evening had come” (Mk 4:35). The Gospel passage we have just heard begins like this. For weeks now it has been evening. Thick darkness has gathered over our squares, our streets and our cities; it has taken over our lives, filling everything with a deafening silence and a distressing void, that stops everything as it passes by; we feel it in the air, we notice in people’s gestures, their glances give them away. We find ourselves afraid and lost.
Like the disciples in the Gospel we were caught off guard by an unexpected, turbulent storm. We have realized that we are on the same boat, all of us fragile and disoriented, but at the same time important and needed, all of us called to row together, each of us in need of comforting the other. On this boat… are all of us. Just like those disciples, who spoke anxiously with one voice, saying “We are perishing” (v. 38), so we too have realized that we cannot go on thinking of ourselves, but only together can we do this.
On this boat… are all of us.
It is easy to recognize ourselves in this story. What is harder to understand is Jesus’ attitude. While his disciples are quite naturally alarmed and desperate, he stands in the stern, in the part of the boat that sinks first. And what does he do? In spite of the tempest, he sleeps on soundly, trusting in the Father; this is the only time in the Gospels we see Jesus sleeping. When he wakes up, after calming the wind and the waters, he turns to the disciples in a reproaching voice: “Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” (v. 40).
Let us try to understand. In what does the lack of the disciples’ faith consist, as contrasted with Jesus’ trust? They had not stopped believing in him; in fact, they called on him. But we see how they call on him: “Teacher, do you not care if we perish?” (v. 38). Do you not care: they think that Jesus is not interested in them, does not care about them. One of the things that hurts us and our families most when we hear it said is: “Do you not care about me?” It is a phrase that wounds and unleashes storms in our hearts. It would have shaken Jesus too. Because he, more than anyone, cares about us. Indeed, once they have called on him, he saves his disciples from their discouragement.
The storm exposes our vulnerability and uncovers those false and superfluous certainties around which we have constructed our daily schedules, our projects, our habits and priorities. It shows us how we have allowed to become dull and feeble the very things that nourish, sustain and strengthen our lives and our communities. The tempest lays bare all our prepackaged ideas and forgetfulness of what nourishes our people’s souls; all those attempts that anesthetize us with ways of thinking and acting that supposedly “save” us, but instead prove incapable of putting us in touch with our roots and keeping alive the memory of those who have gone before us. We deprive ourselves of the antibodies we need to confront adversity.
In this storm, the façade of those stereotypes with which we camouflaged our egos, always worrying about our image, has fallen away, uncovering once more that (blessed) common belonging, of which we cannot be deprived: our belonging as brothers and sisters.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, your word this evening strikes us and regards us, all of us. In this world, that you love more than we do, we have gone ahead at breakneck speed, feeling powerful and able to do anything. Greedy for profit, we let ourselves get caught up in things, and lured away by haste. We did not stop at your reproach to us, we were not shaken awake by wars or injustice across the world, nor did we listen to the cry of the poor or of our ailing planet. We carried on regardless, thinking we would stay healthy in a world that was sick. Now that we are in a stormy sea, we implore you: “Wake up, Lord!”.
Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith?” Lord, you are calling to us, calling us to faith. Which is not so much believing that you exist, but coming to you and trusting in you. This Lent your call reverberates urgently: “Be converted!”, “Return to me with all your heart” (Joel 2:12). You are calling on us to seize this time of trial as a time of choosing. It is not the time of your judgement, but of our judgement: a time to choose what matters and what passes away, a time to separate what is necessary from what is not. It is a time to get our lives back on track with regard to you, Lord, and to others.
We can look to so many exemplary companions for the journey, who, even though fearful, have reacted by giving their lives. This is the force of the Spirit poured out and fashioned in courageous and generous self-denial. It is the life in the Spirit that can redeem, value and demonstrate how our lives are woven together and sustained by ordinary people – often forgotten people – who do not appear in newspaper and magazine headlines nor on the grand catwalks of the latest show, but who without any doubt are in these very days writing the decisive events of our time: doctors, nurses, supermarket employees, cleaners, caregivers, providers of transport, law and order forces, volunteers, priests, religious men and women and so very many others who have understood that no one reaches salvation by themselves.
In the face of so much suffering, where the authentic development of our peoples is assessed, we experience the priestly prayer of Jesus: “That they may all be one” (Jn 17:21). How many people every day are exercising patience and offering hope, taking care to sow not panic but a shared responsibility. How many fathers, mothers, grandparents and teachers are showing our children, in small everyday gestures, how to face up to and navigate a crisis by adjusting their routines, lifting their gaze and fostering prayer. How many are praying, offering and interceding for the good of all. Prayer and quiet service: these are our victorious weapons.
Prayer and quiet service: these are our victorious weapons.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Faith begins when we realise we are in need of salvation. We are not self-sufficient; by ourselves we flounder: we need the Lord, like ancient navigators needed the stars. Let us invite Jesus into the boats of our lives. Let us hand over our fears to him so that he can conquer them. Like the disciples, we will experience that with him on board there will be no shipwreck. Because this is God’s strength: turning to the good everything that happens to us, even the bad things. He brings serenity into our storms, because with God life never dies.
The Lord asks us and, in the midst of our tempest, invites us to reawaken and put into practice that solidarity and hope capable of giving strength, support and meaning to these hours when everything seems to be floundering. The Lord awakens so as to reawaken and revive our Easter faith.
We have an anchor: by his cross we have been saved. We have a rudder: by his cross we have been redeemed. We have a hope: by his cross we have been healed and embraced so that nothing and no one can separate us from his redeeming love. In the midst of isolation when we are suffering from a lack of tenderness and chances to meet up, and we experience the loss of so many things, let us once again listen to the proclamation that saves us: he is risen and is living by our side.
The Lord asks us from his cross to rediscover the life that awaits us, to look towards those who look to us, to strengthen, recognize and foster the grace that lives within us. Let us not quench the wavering flame (cf. Is 42:3) that never falters, and let us allow hope to be rekindled.
We have an anchor… We have a rudder… We have a hope
Embracing his cross means finding the courage to embrace all the hardships of the present time, abandoning for a moment our eagerness for power and possessions in order to make room for the creativity that only the Spirit is capable of inspiring. It means finding the courage to create spaces where everyone can recognize that they are called, and to allow new forms of hospitality, fraternity and solidarity.
By his cross we have been saved in order to embrace hope and let it strengthen and sustain all measures and all possible avenues for helping us protect ourselves and others. Embracing the Lord in order to embrace hope: that is the strength of faith, which frees us from fear and gives us hope.
“Why are you afraid? Have you no faith”? Dear brothers and sisters, from this place that tells of Peter’s rock-solid faith, I would like this evening to entrust all of you to the Lord, through the intercession of Mary, Health of the People and Star of the stormy Sea. From this colonnade that embraces Rome and the whole world, may God’s blessing come down upon you as a consoling embrace.
Lord, may you bless the world, give health to our bodies and comfort our hearts. You ask us not to be afraid. Yet our faith is weak and we are fearful. But you, Lord, will not leave us at the mercy of the storm. Tell us again: “Do not be afraid” (Mt 28:5). And we, together with Peter, “cast all our anxieties onto you, for you care about us” (cf. 1 Pet 5:7).
"O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen."
My Jesus,
I believe that You
are present in the Most Holy Sacrament.
I love You above all things,
and I desire to receive You into my soul.
Since I cannot at this moment
receive You sacramentally,
come at least spiritually into my heart. I embrace You as if You were already there and unite myself wholly to You. Never permit me to be separated from You.
Amen.
Jesus Christ,
you traveled through towns and villages “curing every disease and illness.”
At your command, the sick were made well.
Come to our aid now, in the midst of the global spread of the coronavirus,
that we may experience your healing love.
Heal those who are sick with the virus.
May they regain their strength and health through quality medical care.
Heal us from our fear,
which prevents nations from working together and neighbors from helping one another.
Heal us from our pride,
which can make us claim invulnerability to a disease that knows no borders.
Jesus Christ, healer of all,
stay by our side in this time of uncertainty and sorrow.
Be with those who have died from the virus.
May they be at rest with you in your eternal peace.
Be with the families of those who are sick or have died.
As they worry and grieve, defend them from illness and despair.
May they know your peace.
Be with the doctors, nurses, researchers and all medical professionals who seek to heal and help those affected and who put themselves at risk in the process.
May they know your protection and peace.
Be with the leaders of all nations.
Give them the foresight to act with charity and true concern for the well-being of the people they are meant to serve.
Give them the wisdom to invest in long-term solutions that will help prepare for or prevent future outbreaks.
May they know your peace, as they work together to achieve it on earth.
Whether we are home or abroad,
surrounded by many people suffering from this illness or only a few, Jesus Christ, stay with us as we endure and mourn, persist and prepare. In place of our anxiety, give us your peace.
Jesus Christ, heal us.
- Kerry Weber is an Executive Editor of America Magazine, taken from www.americamagazine.org
A little spiritual enrichment and perspective, direct from the Holy Spirit and written by Fr. Tom Byrnes, former parochial vicar at St. Stephens, and current pastor of St. Anthony of Padua in West Harrison, NY.
March 6, 2020
May the Lord give you His peace.
Has the coronavirus got your worried? It’s completely understandable. When we feel like we are not in control of something it can trigger all kinds of anxieties, especially when it comes to things that effect our health. It hit home for me the other day when an 8 th grader mentioned how afraid she was about dying from this disease, as if it was already at her doorstep. How do we deal with feelings of impending doom?
First, it’s so important to embrace the facts. All too often we are reacting to misinformation, hearsay, perceptions, and interpretations generated by fear and worry. I have enclosed a fact sheet about the coronavirus provided by the Westchester County Department of Health. Granted, these aren’t “fun facts” but at least we can focus our energies on the real concerns and not the imagined ones.
Second, it’s also important to recognize what we can do rather than dwell on the things outside of our control. For example, I may not be able to eradicate the virus, but I can certainly wash my hands and keep them away from my face! Exercising common sense when it comes to hygiene and selfcare go a long way as well. At the end of this note I am going to list a few steps for our own parish.
Third, excessive worry over exposure to the coronavirus is in large part due to overexposure to “news” about the coronavirus. Our mind and spirit are not given a chance to detach and focus on anything else if the news is constantly playing in the background or notifications are repeatedly pinging our phones. It’s important and responsible to be informed but very unhealthy if we overindulge in the all too often poor spirited filled details. Just like a summer day at the beach…a little sun is great for a tan…too much and we’re left with a sunburn. Get the facts and get out. Limit your screen time. Restrict or limit news alerts and notifications on your phones and tablets. Be attentive to children within earshot of adult conversations or who may be in the room with you while you are watching the news. Television is NOT child friendly.
Fourth, when sharing information with others, especially with young people, we are called to be evangelists not alarmists. It means being attentive to time and place and knowing our audience. It’s not a matter of hiding the facts, running away from the truth, or pretending there is no virus. Even the most tragic of events and situations can be communicated in the light of Christ’s love. We are called to be messengers and bearers of the Good News of hope and life. Didn’t Jesus transform the brokenness of Good Friday into an Easter? Isn’t His story about the victory of faith over fear? I am quite sure, united with Christ, we can handle a virus by any name, corona or otherwise.
So in summary, let us focus on the real virus infecting our community one far more damaging than the coronavirus: FEAR. We know the source of that virus, namely, the evil one. He exposes us to a variety of strains of fear: fear of the unknown, fear of the known, fear of death, fear of rejection, fear of illness…there are too many to list here! His goal is to get us so consumed by fear that we give little thought to faith. For example, his hope is that his latest strain of fear, the coronavirus, will get us so obsessed with becoming sanitized that we will take our focus off of being sanctified…so worried about finding bottles of Purell to purify our hands that we will give little thought to finding time for prayer to purify our hearts.
Granted, Purell and other sanitizers have their place in the world of preventative care. However, should we run out of sanitizer for our hands, we will never run out of sanctifying grace for our hearts. (Isn’t that the main goal of our lives and a particular focus of Lent?) It is FAITH in God that provides the ultimate victory over FEAR. Faith doesn’t mean that God will necessarily snap His fingers and wipe out the coronavirus. (After all, He didn’t take way the cross on Good Friday either.) This doesn’t make God mean, uncaring, or unconcerned. Faith means, GOD IS WITH US. God who is our loving Father who created us is with us. God our loving Brother who saved us is with us. God who is the Holy Spirit the source of all love is with us. Consider that when we are with the one we love…nothing else matters. In fact, all things seem possible. With God, who is love, all things, are possible. Every victory is achievable. Every obstacle is surmountable. There is no fear…only hope.
Let us recall and heed the words of the great Saint Padre Pio whom many of you have great devotion here at St. Anthony’s: “Pray, hope, and don’t worry.” Let us overcome the fear based hype of hell and embrace the Christ driven hope of heaven. If we are as vigilant in folding our hands in prayer as we are of washingthem in Purell, we will most certainly overcome any virus that should come our way! In short, remember to: Wash and Fold!
Your local shepherd,
Fr. Tom
A great article to help remind all of us that we're in this together, and what we can do to help each other. Click HERE to read the article in it's entirety.
Prayer to the Virgin Mary for Protection
O Mary, you shine continuously on our journey as a sign of salvation and hope.
We entrust ourselves to you, Health of the Sick.
At the foot of the Cross you participated in Jesus’ pain,
with steadfast faith.
You, Our Lady of New York, know what we need.
We are certain that you will provide, so that,
as you did at Cana of Galilee,
joy and feasting might return after this moment of trial.
Help us, Mother of Divine Love,
to conform ourselves to the Father’s will
and to do what Jesus tells us:
He who took our sufferings upon Himself, and bore our sorrows to bring us,
through the Cross, to the joy of the Resurrection. Amen.
We seek refuge under your protection, O Holy Mother of God.
Do not despise our pleas – we who are put to the test – and deliver us from every danger, O glorious and blessed Virgin.