22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2026 - "Get behind me, Satan"

 

Well, St. Peter certainly went from hero to zero pretty quickly, didn’t he? Last week, our Gospel reading from the beginning of Matthew chapter 16 described the Lord extolling and praising Peter’s faith: “Blessed are you, Simon, Son of Jonah”. The Lord then promoted Peter, we might say, as prince of the apostles. “You are Peter, the rock, and upon this rock I build my Church, and I will give to you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.” Here, Peter and his successors, the Popes, were given by the Lord himself, the highest authority in the Church—the power, authority, and responsibility to loose and bind.

This fact is expressed in canon law, which says “The bishop of the Roman Church, in whom continues the office given by the Lord uniquely to Peter, the first of the Apostles, and to be transmitted to his successors, is the head of the college of bishops, the Vicar of Christ, and the pastor of the universal Church on earth. By virtue of his office he possesses supreme, full, immediate, and universal ordinary power in the Church, which he is always able to exercise freely.”

So, a pretty big promotion there, for St. Peter, on their way to Caesarea Philipi.

But then, this week, just seven verses later in Matthew chapter 16, the Lord refers to Peter as Satan: “Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.” One can hardly imagine a more serious rebuke.  Peter you have become a stumbling block—an obstacle to the will of God, an obstacle to the sacred mission of Jesus. Peter, you are obstructing God as Satan does.

How so? When the Lord foretold how he must go to the cross, suffer and die and then be raised, Peter sets his will at odds with Jesus. “May God forbid you to do this,” he says.

Peter here insinuates that Jesus turn away from the cross, that the He turn away from the mission to save humanity, that he turn away from his commitment to love his people to the end because it might hurt.

The Lord says, “Get behind me Satan” because Peter was siding not with God, but with God’s enemy, the one who desires not our salvation but our damnation, the one who works to keep man in his fallen state, who would see us deprived of God’s presence for all eternity, just like him.

“Peter, You are thinking as human beings do”, not as God does, what is "good, and pleasing, and perfect" as Paul writes in our second reading. What’s that say about human ways of thinking? That we don’t always think with the mind of God, in fact, sometimes our thoughts are downright Satanic.

Our thoughts are sometimes quite disordered, aren’t they? Perverted thoughts. Violent thoughts. Selfish thoughts. And when we act on these thoughts, we side not with God, but with Satan.

This tendency, this vulnerability is in all of us. It’s the part of us that gives-in to pressure all too easily, a part of us that caves when obedience to God requires effort. We see this all the way back in the garden of Eden. At the foot of the Tree of Knowledge—Eve begins listening to that voice—that Satanic voice that doesn’t force, but merely whispers that her own will, her own strength, her own plan, could bring her happiness—that setting her will in opposition to God’s could bring her fulfilment.

So, too with Adam. And with Adam, we see even less of a struggle. When presented with the forbidden fruit from the hands of his wife, we don’t even see an argument. We don’t see Adam calling to mind the command of God given to him directly: “Do not eat of the tree,” God says, “or else you will die”. Adam caves without any recorded resistance. How pitiful! And yet, are we any better? St. Dominic Savio would say that “he would rather die than commit sin.” How often we fail to exercise the slightest resistance!

Most of us are a lot like Peter. We have moments where we profess our faith, our minds and hearts and lips are open to God’s truth. And then we have moments of “thinking as human beings do” and fall to the temptations whispered by the Enemy.

But we shouldn’t despair because of this. It’s the Christian condition. We’re believers who also sin, sinners who also believe. We’re imperfect. We’re all learning. That’s what it means to be a disciple. And God loves us for it. Jesus died not for the perfect, but for the imperfect. But he also expects that when we sin, we humbly admit it. We confess it. We seek to amend our life—to change our thinking and behavior, just like Peter.

Following Peter’s story through the New Testament. He stumbles and falls. He literally sinks into the sea when he takes his eyes off Jesus. He runs away from the cross. He denies the Lord, thricely. Even after the resurrection, scripture records Peter’s imperfections. He goes back to fishing. He locks himself behind the doors of the upper room. Even after Pentecost, Peter makes mistakes. Paul writes to the Galatians how when Peter came to Antioch, Paul had to tell Peter face to face that he was wrong for refusing to eat with the Gentile converts.

There’s even a Christian legend how when Peter finally arrives in Rome, he flees out of fear of martyrdom, and it’s not until the Lord appears to him personally, that Peter finally has the courage to carry his cross.

“Get behind me” it was a strong rebuke. But in a sense, it was also an invitation, wasn’t it? “Get behind me” is the proper place of the disciple. Peter, a sinner, had stepped in front of Jesus, trying to direct him away from the Cross. Jesus invites him back to his proper place, and he does.

Peter had placed himself in front of Christ, as if he knew the path better than the Lord. Jesus tells him: get behind me. Take your proper place again. You are not the master. You are the disciple. And that is where all of us belong: not telling God what He should do, but behind Jesus, following him wherever he leads. Following Jesus requires obedience, but brings freedom. Following Jesus, requires humble admittance of sin, but brings mercy. Following Jesus involves the cross, but leads to resurrection and eternal life.

We’re not to despair because we stumble, nor are we to pretend that our sins and compromises are irrelevant—their disordered, wicked, and at odds with God’s will. And through the teaching of the Church, the Lord rebukes us. But rebuke is part of the solution. Peter’s story does not end with the rebuke. It ends with sanctity—with the ultimate act of love for Jesus—the witness of his life and the winning of the martyr’s crown.

Through that series of stumbling and repentance, continuing to follow the Lord, Peter finally learned to think and act with the mind and heart of Christ. May the Lord give us that same grace: to recognize where we are thinking merely as human beings do, to repent with humility, and to follow Christ faithfully, unto the cross and resurrection, for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

 

August 28 2026 - St. Augustine, bishop & doctor - Light for those wandering in darkness

 

For decades of his life, St. Augustine wandered in the darkness. He sought happiness in the pleasures of the flesh. He sought happiness in worldly philosophers. He sought happiness in strange sects. But they failed to satisfy and left him restless. But upon finding the Truth, the pearl of great price, the Truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Augustine gave his life entirely to Christ.

There are countless stories like Augustine’s up and down the centuries. Men and women who sought happiness, sought truth in a hundred thousand ways, but came to discover truth and goodness here in the Catholic Church.

In many cases, it was the witness of Ordinary Catholics that led them home. The faithful witness of Catholics at prayer, engaging in works of charity, of helping them when they needed help, helped them to open their hearts to the possibility that, herein lies goodness. That despite what the world says about God and the Church, there might be something to this Catholic stuff.

For Augustine, there appear to be two people that influenced him most. His mother, St. Monica, who prayed and wept and did penance for his conversion for decades. And the Bishop St. Ambrose, whose preaching captivated him.

St. Augustine’s mind and heart and soul longed for God and knowledge of Christ Jesus. And for him, it took a while for him to find his heart’s longing.

So we should be patient with those who seem to be wandering through life, for those outside of the Church, even those who left the Church. God has placed a longing in their hearts that can only be satisfied by God.

And yet, we should also be diligent in praying and working for their conversion. St. Augustine was converted because St. Ambrose was doing what he was supposed to be doing, and St. Monica was doing what she was supposed to be doing.

We need to be patient and diligent in praying and laboring for the conversion of souls. Including our own. It was because Ambrose and Monica had cultivated their own holiness, that God was able to work so effectively through them. Augustine was able to encounter Christ through Ambrose and Monica, because Ambrose and Monica and made a home for Christ in their own souls, and adorned that home richly—Augustine’s blindness was dispelled because of the light shining in Christ’s Holy Church.

St. Augustine is a great saint for our own day—who himself prays no doubt, for those addicted to sin, those fleeing the Church and the Truth of the Gospel, and for all of us, that we may be effective instruments for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

 

That the preaching of holy bishops and priests may attract those seeking for Truth to the Truth of the Gospels.

That Christian parents may be diligent in their prayer and good example for the forming their families in faith.

That our young people may be kept safe from the evils and errors of our culture. That they may seek and find Christ in the witness of the Church.

For those who have fallen into error or serious sin, those whose pride keeps them from knowing God’s mercy, and for those who have fallen away from the Church or do not know Christ, for their conversion and the conversion of all hearts.

That the love of Christ, the divine physician, may bring healing to the sick and comfort to all the suffering.

For the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, and all the poor souls in purgatory, for deceased priests and religious, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom.

O God, you know that our life in this present age is subject to suffering and need, hear the prayers of those who cry to you and receive the prayers of those who believe in you. Through Christ our Lord.

 

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2026 - A mission to all nations & OCIA invitation

 

As I’ve shared before, during college seminary I had the great privilege of studying for a semester in the Eternal City of Rome. And that semester included quite a few trips to St. Peter’s Basilica. In fact, even before really getting our bearings, now my dear priest friend Fr. Matthew Pfeiffer and I, went to St. Peter’s on our first day in Rome. Like countless pilgrims before us, we made our way through the streets of Rome, into Piazza San Pietro, the large piazza located directly in front of St. Peter’s Basillica, surrounded by that iconic colonnade.

The colonnade was designed by the Italian architect Gian Lorenzo Bernini, under the direction of Pope Alexander VII in the mid-1600s. 284 Doric columns surround the piazza to resemble the welcoming arms of the Church, like a mother embracing all of her children. What a beautiful symbol for the nature and mission of Mother Church to embrace and gather all the peoples of the world.

The Scripture readings on this 20^th Sunday of Ordinary Time have this theme of the universal embrace—the universal mission of the Church—a mission to every race and culture. The Church is to be a home and hospital and sign and instrument of communion for the entire human family.

The Lord Jesus died for the salvation of all peoples of all places. And while his mission was to save all of humanity, he never traveled outside of the Holy Land, to Rome or Spain or Athens or the Canary Islands or to these shores of course. Rather those countries and the rest of the world would come to know Christ’s salvation, through us, through the preaching and teaching of His body, the Church.

The Church is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy in the first reading: “my house shall be called
a house of prayer for all peoples.” In the Psalm, as well, we offer the prayer of the people of God that one day, “all the nations of the earth” might praise God, together.  In the second Reading, St. Paul explains how God's mercy is for all people--all of us are sinners, but Christ died for all, so that all people might be reconciled to God.

And then in our Gospel reading, we hear of this gentile woman approaching Jesus for salvation for her daughter. And she wasn’t just any Gentile, she was a Canaanite, one of the great historic enemies of the Jewish people. And for coming to Jesus, begging salvation from him, Jesus praises her. She receives praise that not one of Jesus’ disciples, not one of the apostles receives. The Lord says to her, “great is your faith!” And her faith becomes a conduit of healing and deliverance for her family.

Salvation, healing, deliverance, the joy of knowing Christ in this life and in life everlasting. This is why we approach Jesus in faith, this is why we take membership in his Church so seriously. And this is why we need to take seriously our call to evangelize. Because God wants all peoples on earth to know and love Jesus Christ and be saved. And that happens through our witness—showing the world that being Catholic matters, and that it is vitally important, eternally important.

Do you talk about the Church with love? With joy? Do your children and grandchildren hear from your lips that the Mass matters, that confession is a gift, that prayer is vital to you, that Jesus Christ has changed your life? Do your neighbors and coworkers know that your faith is not simply a private hobby, but the center of who you are?

Evangelization does not always begin with a theological argument. Often it begins with a simple witness: “I go to Mass because I need the Lord.” “I went to confession and found peace.” “I will pray for you.” “Would you like to come to a church event with me?” “Our parish has been a place of grace for my family.” These are not complicated words. But spoken with sincerity, they can open a door.

And we should not underestimate the power of invitation. Many people are waiting to be invited. Many people who have drifted from the Church are not hostile; they are wounded, distracted, embarrassed, or unsure how to return. A personal invitation from someone they trust may be the first step of their journey home.

The Canaanite woman’s faith became a conduit of healing for her daughter. So too, our faith can become a conduit of grace for others. Our prayer, our gentleness and sincerity, our love for the Church, our willingness to speak of Christ—these can become instruments by which the Lord brings healing and deliverance to families, to parishes, and to souls.

This weekend, in the bulletin is a flyer for OCIA formerly called RCIA—the program and process for Adults to become Catholic. Maybe some of you here are not members of the Church. Please know you are welcome to find out more about full membership in the Church, give me a call or shoot me an email. For those of you who are already full members, that flyer can be given to someone who isn’t. There’s likely someone in your life, who you can invite. I recommend praying for them this week, and then making the invitation. Pray for the openness to God. And pray for your own courage to make the invitation. You can simply say, hi, I’ve been praying for you, when my pastor brought this up at church, I thought of you, if you are interested, please know you are more than welcome and I’d be willing to pray with you and answer any questions that I can and find out answers to those I don’t know.” It’s a simple invitation that will change peoples lives for the better.

It's an act of love to care about a soul enough to want them to experience the fullness of life that is available to us as Catholics. For out of love, Christ died for all. And out of love Christ sends us to gather all of humanity into the arms of mother Church, to embrace and live his truth, to be filled with his life and his grace, and thereby become the people God made us to be, and to receive the gift of eternal life through faith for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

August 14, 2026 - St. Maximilian Kolbe - No greater love

 

St. Maximilian Kolbe was born in Poland in 1894, entered the Franciscans at the age of 16, and was ordained 8 years later. In his first years of his priesthood he taught in the seminary in Krakow, the same diocese from which Pope John Paul would be ordained about 30 years later. In January 1922, he founded a monthly religious devotional called “Knight of the Immaculata” and operated a religious publishing press. Between 1930 and 1936, the saint undertook a series of missions to East Asia. In 1938 he would be recalled to Poland by his superiors. A year later, on 19 September 1939 he would be arrested by the Nazi’s for the first time, when the town in which he ministered was captured by the germans. Two years later, he was arrested again, and this time sent to the concentration camp at Auschwitz.

You’ve probably heard the story, how while in Auschwitz, several prisoners managed to escape.  As punishment, 10 men were selected to die.  When a married man with a family was among them, St. Maximilian asked to take his place.  The stunned Nazi officer agreed to the exchange.  St. Maximilian and the other nine men were stripped, locked in a cell, and left to starve to death.  After two weeks, some, including St. Maximilian were still alive.  They were given lethal injections of carbolic acid, and their remains were thrown into an oven.

“No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends.” St. Maximilian death was not a sudden, last-minute act of heroism. He had cultivated Christ like love for souls throughout his priesthood, throughout his life, just as each of us are called to do. To cultivate love.

“Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth,” writes St. John.

Every day we are given opportunities to cultivate love, to die to self in order to live for others: to be patient when we are irritated; to forgive when we have been hurt; to give our time when we would rather be left alone; to pray for someone who has wronged us; to notice the lonely, the suffering, and the forgotten; to make sacrifices for our families, our parish, and those entrusted to our care.

Holiness is not granted by God waving the holiness wand over our head. Holiness is formed through daily choices. Every time we choose charity over selfishness, mercy over resentment, generosity over comfort, Christ’s love takes deeper root within us.

Through the intercession of St. Maximilian Kolbe, may God teach us to cultivate that love each day, so that when love demands sacrifice from us, great or small, we will be ready to give ourselves freely for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

 

 

That all members of the Church, laity and clergy, will be committed to self-sacrificial service in their daily lives.

For an end to indifference to God and human dignity in our government institutions, universities, businesses, and personal attitudes.

For an increase in devotion to Our Lady, that through our love for her, the Church may obtain a renewed zeal for souls.

That the love of Christ, the divine physician, may bring healing to the sick and comfort to all the suffering.

For the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, and all the poor souls in purgatory, for deceased priests and religious, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom. We pray.

O God, who know that our life in this present age is subject to suffering and need, hear the prayers of those who cry to you and receive the prayers of those who believe in you. Through Christ our Lord.

 

 

 

August 12 2026 - St. Frances de Chantal - Radiant through different walks of life

 

St. Jane Frances de Chantal was wife, mother, nun and founder of a religious community.  This 16^th Century saint had an amazing array of life experiences, many of which, however, involved the cross.

 Jane’s mother died when she was but 18 months old. Her father, who was head of the French parliament saw to her development as a woman of beauty and refinement.  She was married at age 21 to Baron de Chantal. They had six children, but three died in infancy. At their castle, she restored the custom of daily Mass, and was deeply engaged in various charitable works.

Jane’s husband was killed in a hunting accident after seven years of marriage, leaving her a widow at 28 with four children, and broken-hearted.

A few years later, her father invited her to come to Dijon to hear the Lenten sermons of the holy bishop of Geneva Switzerland, St. Francis de Sales. Which certainly changed her life. The saint became her spiritual director, and under his direction, she grew in sanctity and discerned a religious vocation. So, at age 45, she joined the Visitation Nuns, the cloistered community founded her spiritual director. Their charism was to seek to exemplify the humility and meekness exemplified by Our Lady at the Visitation.

Life’s challenges however continued.  Her son was killed, and a plague ravaged France.  In response to the plague, she persuaded local authorities to respond to the plague victims and she put all the resources of her convent at the disposal of the sick.

Additionally, Religious life did not shield Jane Frances de Chantal from great trials of the spirit, temptations, darkness, and spiritual dryness, but her strong faith enabled her to carry these crosses. St. Vincent de Paul, who knew her personally, said: “for all that suffering, her face never lost its serenity, nor did she once relax in the fidelity God asked of her.” 

It may surprise us that a saint should be subject to such great suffering, spiritual dryness, darkness.  But that’s how saints are made. Saints are those who persevere through the darkness. At the heart of the saint is a trust and faith in God that is deeper than any darkness—that no matter what one is feeling, no matter what tragedy or chaos life throws at you, we rely on God’s grace, we seek to be faithful to God in season and out of season. Just because we are having a bad day, a bad week, a bad decade, we are not excused from the commandment to love.

Jane Frances de Chantal went to her heavenly reward in 1641 at the age of 69 after many sorrows and joys. She is invoked as a patron saint of widows, people with problems with their in-laws…we didn’t even get into those…and parents who are separated from their children.

A soul made beautiful and holy through God’s grace, through the crucible of suffering, imitation of the Blessed Virgin, and the help of other saints along the way. May we benefit from her prayers and holy example, and like her become radiant through the many different walks of our own life for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.

- - - - 

That we like St. Frances de Chantal, we may respond to life's challenges with faith, perseverance, and love, and that we may grow in our trust in God amidst life's turmoil.

For those facing trials of the spirit, temptations, or spiritual dryness, those experiencing grief,  depression, broken-heartedness, for widows, for parents who have lost children, for those with problems with their in-laws, and for those experiencing any kind of darkness in their lives, that they may find hope in the examples of saints who persevered through similar struggles.

For the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, and all the poor souls in purgatory, for deceased priests and religious, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom. We pray.

Loving and merciful God, as we celebrate the saints, hear our prayers, that we like them may face life’s challenges with unwavering faith, persevering hope, and generous charity. Through Christ our Lord.

August 10, 2026 - St. Lawrence of Rome - Charity, Courage, Comedy

 

Last week, on the Feast of Pope St. Sixtus, we recalled how in the mid-3^rd century, the Roman Emperor Valerian issued the cold imperial decree that all bishops, priests, and deacons be arrested and put to death.  The Pope himself, Pope Sixtus II, was arrested and killed on August 7th 258 AD. Saint Lawrence, whom we honor today, a deacon of Rome, was arrested and killed four days later.

Upon his arrest, Deacon Lawrence was ordered by the Roman Prefect to bring him the treasures of the Church. Now, the Roman Authority no doubt envisioned Lawrence gathering up the silver and gold chalices and candlesticks. But, the holy Deacon did something surprising. Rather than gold and silver, Deacon Lawrence gathered a great number of the blind and the lame, the orphans and widows of Rome. When the prefect arrived, Lawrence declared, “These are the treasures of the Church.”

In great anger, the Prefect condemned Lawrence to a slow, cruel death. The Saint was to be slowly roasted alive upon an iron grill.  Lawrence however was burning with so much love of God that he almost did not feel the flame. He even joked.  “I'm done on this side! Turn me over” Among many other things, St. Lawrence is a patron saint of Comedians.

We tell these stories about St. Lawrence century after century because they reveal profound truths. Firstly, St. Lawrence pointing to the poor and lame and calling them treasures, is completely accurate. The poor and lame are valued by God and are to be treated as such by us. We are taught by the Lord himself, what we do for the least of these, you did for me. So, if we claim to value and love Christ, that means we must value and love the poor and do what we can to care for them.

Secondly, St. Lawrence’s comedy, his holy humor in the face of suffering and death, flip me over, I’m done on this side, reveals our attitude to these things. The world says that suffering and death are the worst things you could possibly experience and should be avoided at all costs. The world says, “Fear the cross, Flee from the cross. Nothing is worth the cross.” But the Christian attitude is very different, isn’t it? St. Paul writes “Death where is thy sting?”

Those are words of a soul who has found freedom from fear, freedom of a soul belonging entirely to Christ. Lawrence could laugh in the face of imperial cruelty because he knew that Rome did not have the final word. The prefect could take Lawrence’s life, but he could not take his treasure, which he had stored up in heaven. He could burn his body, but he could not extinguish his charity. He could threaten Lawrence with death, but Lawrence already shared in the eternal victory of the risen Christ.

May Saint Lawrence help us to treasure what Christ treasures, to serve with joy, to suffer with courage, and to face every trial with the confidence of those who know that Christ is risen, Christ is victorious, and Christ will never abandon his friends, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.

 

That Christians persecuted for the faith may be courageous in their witness to the saving Truth of Christ.

For the conversion of all those who hate Christ and his Church.

That all Christians may grow in charitable attentiveness to the needs of the poor in our midst.

For all the needs of the sick and the suffering, the homebound, those in nursing homes and hospitals, the underemployed and unemployed, victims of natural disaster, war, and terrorism, for all those who grieve the loss of a loved one, and those who will die today, for their comfort, and the consolation of their families.

For the repose of the souls of our beloved dead, for all of the poor souls in purgatory, for the deceased members of our families, friends, and parish, for the deceased priests, deacons and religious of the diocese of Cleveland, and for those who have fought and died for our freedom.

Incline your merciful ear to our prayers, we ask, O Lord, and listen in kindness to the supplications of those who call on you. Through Christ our Lord.

 

 

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2026 - Prayerful Silence

 

Throughout the Scriptures we find our Lord going to secluded places to pray. In the Gospel today, for example, after a long and arduous day teaching the crowds, healing the sick, performing the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves, seeing to the feeding of thousands of people, Jesus climbed a mountain in order to pray in solitude. That living relationship of prayer with the Father was an indispensable dimension of his life and ministry, especially as he prepared to take up his cross.

The Lord’s own prayer is an example for all of us. As the master has done, so must the disciple. We need prayer, every day, to refresh us, and strengthen us, and guide us, in which we go to a quiet place, a quiet room, the church or chapel, to focus our minds and hearts on God, in which we lift up our needs and the needs of our families, and we allow God to speak to us. Quiet solitude is often the place of divine encounter.

This point is illustrated in our first reading from the first book of Kings: there was this loud earthquake, but God was not heard in the loud earthquake, there was this loud booming fire, but God  was not heard in the booming fire, there was a strong driving wind, but God was not heard in the wind. Rather, it was in the tiny whispering sound.  God’s voice was detected and heard in the quiet. The lesson here is that we must become quiet in order to hear the voice of God. We are often deaf to the voice of God because we have failed to become quiet enough to hear Him.  He wants to speak quiet piercing words to our hearts which help us to fall in love with Him; but if we have the television going, the iphones going, the video games going all the time, we will not hear him. 

I’ve shared this before, that the Christian Philosopher Svoren Kierkegaard went so far as to say that the constant busyness of the modern world is a sort of disease. And If he were a doctor he would prescribe as a remedy for this disease, “silence”. Silence has a healing effect because it facilitates that divine encounter—with the source of healing and wisdom and strength.

In the Gospel today, St. Peter began to sink, when he took his focus off of the Lord. Peter had been given a command, “take courage, it is I, do not be afraid.” Here Peter was instructed to focus not on his fears but on Jesus. Similarly for us, we make intentional effort, to reorient our focus the waves and storms of life to Jesus.

Silence from the noise of the world is important. But how about silence from our fears and anxieties, from our anxious thoughts. So often, we do not make the effort to silence ourselves from those—from anxious worrying, from the replaying of past hurt, and anxious planning of future possible scenarios. We replay the argument we had yesterday. We rehearse the argument we might have tomorrow. We fret about our family members, our health, our finances, and our work. We imagine conversations that have never happened and disasters that may never happen. And before long, like St. Peter, we are looking everywhere except at Jesus.

Now, the Lord is not telling us simply to pretend that our problems do not exist. The wind around Peter was real. The waves were real. The storm was real. But so was Jesus.

And Peter's great mistake was allowing the storm to become more important in his mind than the Lord standing before him. That happens to us as well. Anxiety takes something real—or something that might possibly become real—and magnifies it until it fills the whole horizon. But, prayer puts things in proper perspective. Prayer reminds us: this problem is real, but God is greater. I do not know what tomorrow will bring, but God is already there. And all things work for good, for those, who love God.

When anxious thoughts arise, we do not have to entertain every one of them. Not every thought that enters our mind deserves our attention and energy. Most of the time, we simply have to say: “Lord, I give this to you.” Or use the prayer of Peter from today's Gospel: “Lord, save me.” Or that beautiful simple prayer: “Jesus, I trust in you.”

 

That is one of the great purposes of prayer. Prayer is not primarily an attempt to persuade God to arrange everything according to our plans. Prayer is placing ourselves in His presence, focusing on Him, so that our hearts become more aligned with His. Certainly, we bring Him our petitions. Jesus Himself tells us to ask so that we may receive, knock, that the door might be opened. But Christian prayer also says: “Father, here is what I desire; here is what I fear; here is what I cannot control—and I place it into your hands.” Prayer teaches the soul to surrender.

And that is why silence is so important. Kierkegaard recognized that when our lives become filled with constant noise, stimulation, and activity, our hearts and lives lose focus. Silence creates room for God. It also conditions and trains us for those times in life when God is hardest to detect.

We need prayer more than we need anything that is being broadcast on television or the internet. Do you believe that? That you need prayer? Sure, your biological life will not end if you cease praying, many atheists and non-practicing Christians prove that. But when we fail to pray as we should, we will NOT have what we need for the inevitable storms of life and or to be the spouse, parent, teacher, evangelist, priest that God made us to be.

You need prayer—time every day when you stop consuming and reacting and planning and worrying and social climbing, and allow God to renew your heart.

St. John Vianney wrote, “When we pray with attention and humility of mind and heart, we quit the earth and rise to Heaven.  We reach the outstretched arms of God.  We talk with the Angels and the Saints.”

August 11, Tuesday this week, is the feast of St. Clare our parish patron. Her statues and stained glass windows so often depict her holding the monstrance with the Blessed Sacrament—a reminder to us to make extra effort to visit and pray before the Lord present in the Eucharist as we can. If you can, visit our eucharistic chapel throughout the week, or come and pray before the monstrance Wednesday mornings.

Time in prayer is never wasted. It is beneficial to the soul, it provides strength to endure the storms of life and the assaults of the devil. It provides light to detect God in the griefs and confusions of life and the avenue to experience joy and delight in the Lord even in the dark valleys. May we pray in imitation of Jesus himself in order to live rightly his disciples for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.