Suffocating Under the Weight of Life? A Priest's Simple Tip on How to Breathe Again

 

When Life Feels Overwhelming, Look to the Martyrs

My dear brothers and sisters, there is so much to draw from in just these simple Friday morning readings.

St. Paul tells his beloved Timothy that the marks of a true apostle of Christ are perseverance, endurance, love, patience, and faith in the face of persecution. And when we feel like we are going through a really bad time, all we need to do is remind ourselves of the lives of the martyrs. That’s it. Once we do that, we can rest assured that what we are going through isn’t even close to what they went through.

We all know that feeling. We try our best and still get knocked down. No good deed goes unpunished, as the saying goes. And we feel genuinely bad about what we’re experiencing.

Then we read about the martyrs.

The Example of St. Boniface

Take St. Boniface. Born in England, he traveled to Germany to convert the Germanic people. He was out there preaching, preparing people for confirmation, doing all of this good and difficult work, when a group of pagans killed him. Everything back then was already hard. And yet he pressed on, only to be cut down in the middle of it all.

That is what real suffering looked like.

A Way of Life, Not Just a Teaching

Whenever you are going through a tough time, whenever you are feeling really low, read the lives of the martyrs. You will find yourself thinking, okay, I can handle this. I can get through this.

That is exactly what St. Paul was pointing Timothy toward. “You have followed my teaching, my way of life.” And what is that way of life? Faith, patience, love, endurance, and a willingness to suffer. Not because suffering is pleasant, but because we believe that Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.

Amen.

Darkness Won't Win: A Priest's Call to Courage This Father's Day

 

Gloom and Doom for Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day.

Now, to be fair, the readings this Sunday were not exactly what you’d expect for a celebration. The first reading opens with “I hear the whispers of many. Terror on every side. Denounce, let us denounce him. All those who were my friends are on the watch for any misstep of mine.” The responsorial psalm adds, “For your sake, I bear insult, and shame covers my face.” And then Paul reminds us that through one man, sin entered the world, and through sin, death.

For Mother’s Day, we got “love one another.” For Father’s Day, we get terror and denouncement.

Not very fair, is it? 

A Jane Austen Movie and the Words We Never Say

Yesterday, I watched a movie with my mom on Prime. The movie was Persuasion, based on the Jane Austen novel. It was an hour and a half long. The story follows two people who were engaged when they were young, but the woman’s family refused to let her marry him. He had no name, no money, no status, no power, nothing. So they went their separate ways.

Now she’s 27, unmarried, and she runs into him again. He has become wealthy, successful, and powerful. And for the entire length of the film, the dialogue between them goes something like this.

“Hello.” “Hello, it’s good to see you.” “It’s good to see you too.” “How have you been?” “I’ve been okay, how are you?” “I’m good.”

That’s it. That’s the whole movie. An hour and twenty-five minutes of that.

I was sitting there thinking, “I could have made this movie five minutes long! Just tell her you love her! Tell him! Say the words!”

The last minute of the film, she gets a letter. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ll never love anyone else. You’re the only person in my life.” She runs. They find each other. They kiss. Credits.

They spend an hour and a half letting fear hold them back.

Fear Is the Thing That Stops Us

There’s something worth noticing about that kind of paralysis. In the movie, everybody else has an opinion. Everybody around them sees exactly what’s happening. But the two people who actually need to act can’t bring themselves to do it.

Why? Because they’re afraid. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of being labeled a failure. And that fear forces them not to take a step forward.

The English, as a culture, have produced some of the most remarkable people in history. Shackleton, who endured the Antarctic. Isaac Newton, who invented calculus at around 18 years old. Writers, scientists, explorers of every kind. Brilliant, courageous people. And yet there’s also this quality of feelings almost never shared, words almost never said, steps almost never taken.

Charlie Munger once said he wanted to know where he was going to die so that he would never go there. Some people ask how they can succeed. Others ask how they can fail, and then they avoid those paths. Both are ways of thinking about the same problem.

The Real Message in the Readings

Here’s what ties all of it together. Look at the readings again, but this time read the message underneath them.

“Terror on every side.” Don’t panic.

“For your sake I bear insult and shame covers my face.” Don’t panic.

“Through one man, sin entered the world and through sin, death.” Don’t panic.

“Fear no one.” That’s the gospel. “Nothing is concealed that will not be revealed nor secret that will not be known.” Do not be afraid.

The message running through every single one of those heavy readings is the same. Don’t panic. God has your back.

What Fathers Are Called to Model

Fathers carry a particular name and a particular responsibility. The question worth asking on Father’s Day is this: what is the greatest gift you could ever give your children?

One answer is this. Don’t panic, and teach your children not to panic. You don’t have to say a lot, but you have to teach a lot. And you teach not by saying a lot but by sharing a lot. Share your story. Share where you came from.

The priest’s own father did this well. He always reminded his children where the family came from. Seven children in Italy during World War II, with bombs falling around them. His father was the first in the family to go to university. His grandmother went to school through third grade. His grandfather, a teacher himself, through sixth grade. That was the foundation.

And the message that came out of that story, told again and again, was simple. If we could get through that, you can get through anything in your life. Don’t panic.

Failure Is Not the Worst Thing

Churchill put it plainly. “Success is not final. Failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts.”

Douglas Adams, who wrote The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, said something that lands differently but points in the same direction. “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they go by.”

There’s a message in that kind of humor. Don’t take yourself so seriously. It’s okay to fail. Everybody makes mistakes. Don’t be the person who can’t admit it. Don’t live your life trying to appear perfect all the time.

G.K. Chesterton said it best. “Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.”

Not trying is the real failure. Fear of rejection, fear of looking bad, fear of what people will say, all of it can keep you from the one thing that actually mattered. The man in Persuasion almost lost the woman he loved because he was afraid to say three words. Don’t let that be your story.

Three Things to Carry Into Fatherhood

So here are three things worth holding onto, not just on Father’s Day but every day.

• Don’t panic. The readings are full of hard things. Life is full of hard things. But panic doesn’t help anyone, and your children are watching how you respond.

• God has your back. “Do not fear” is not just a nice phrase. It’s what Jesus said. Believe it.

• Don’t take yourself so seriously. Acknowledge your mistakes. Go to confession. Let your children see you do it. Almost guaranteed, they will follow.

A father who goes to Mass and goes to confession gives his children something no amount of advice can replace. If fathers set that example for their children, it is almost guaranteed that they will continue to go to church and confession into adulthood. It’s not what you say. It’s what you do.

A Blessing for All Fathers

To every father, stepfather, grandfather, and father figure:

Heavenly Father, you entrusted your son Jesus, the child of Mary, to the care of Joseph, his foster father. Bless all fathers and grandfathers as they care for their families. Give them strength and wisdom, tenderness and patience. Give them the ability to love in a way that reflects your love. Support them in the work that they do, protecting those who look to them as we look to you for love and salvation. Help us to love them in a way that would bring honor to you and to them. Bless and heal all those wounded by the imperfections of their fathers, and grant eternal rest to our fathers you have called from this life to yourself, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Congratulations to all our dads. Don’t panic. God’s got your back.

Love Your Children Before They Leave (A Priest's Call to All Christians)

 

What Connects the Three Readings

On the 11th Sunday in Ordinary Time, it can be hard to find the thread running through all three readings. But if we focus on a few key passages in each one, something clear and powerful emerges.

In the first reading from the book of Exodus, the Lord says, “Though all the earth is mine, you shall be my special possession, dearer to me than all other people.” At first glance, that can sound like God is playing favorites, like one group of people is getting special treatment over everyone else.

But we have to remind ourselves that no group of people is homogenous. If God said America is his favorite country, well, you have the old and the young. You have the sick and the healthy. You have believers and non-believers. You have everyone. So there is no real exclusion here. The Lord is dealing with people, not a nation, not a race. Just people. We are his people, the sheep of his flock. That alone is deeply reassuring.

The Depth of What Christ Did

The second reading is perhaps the most reassuring of all. Paul writes that Christ died for us while we were still helpless, while we were still sinners.

Think about how hard it would be to give your life for a good person. That would already take tremendous courage. Now imagine being asked to lay down your life for someone who does not even love you, someone who has nothing to offer you in return. That is even harder. And that is exactly what Christ did.

Even though we were sinners. Even though we were helpless. Even though we were not good people. Christ died for us anyway. And Paul’s conclusion follows naturally from that. How much more, then, since we are now justified by his blood?

Jesus Saw People. The Disciples Saw a Problem.

The gospel brings everything into focus with one simple observation. At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned.

Jesus saw people. The disciples, understandably, saw a logistical nightmare. They saw a crowd that was going to be hungry and tired, a crowd that needed feeding and managing. Maybe they even saw a good collection that day.

But Jesus saw something else entirely. He saw their fears, their loneliness, their confusion, their hopes, and their dignity. He saw their souls.

So the three readings together point to the same three things: people, compassion, and a mission.

I Hate Summer

We all have a tendency to reduce things we should not reduce. We reduce people to something less than persons without even noticing we are doing it.

Think about the way different groups see the people around them.

• Politicians see voters.

• Businesses see customers.

• Kings see subjects.

• Governments see taxpayers.

And families are not immune to it either. Parents can fall into the habit of seeing their children as cheap labor.

Growing up, I hated summer. Every summer, there was a new project waiting. One year, I had to build a brick patio in the backyard. That meant digging nearly a foot down, laying a tarp, putting in gravel, then sand, then brick, leveling everything, ordering the right number of bricks. An entire summer gone.

That patio still exists, somewhere in upstate New York, in a house no one took care of, overgrown now and mostly forgotten. The father who assigned the project has passed away.

Time with your children disappears faster than you think. In ten years, they will not even be in the house anymore. After Mass today, go have lunch with them. Get an ice cream. Look at your children as more than a to-do list. Appreciate the time you have, because it will not last.

Technology and the Danger of Reducing People to Data

Technology does not make this any easier. Pope Leo recently wrote an encyclical on artificial intelligence, and one of its central concerns is exactly this. AI takes people and reduces them to data. Data becomes king. Data becomes gold.

Technology itself is not the enemy. Many people use it every day and find genuine value in it. But as technology increases, humanity has to increase with it. Otherwise it is like putting dangerous tools in the hands of children. You want the rise of technology to be matched by the rise of civilization, the rise of our humanity.

Because AI will never give you the love or the compassion or the relationship you are actually looking for. Never. That is the crux of the encyclical’s message.

People need relationships. People need compassion. People need purpose. And people need fun.

Go have fun with your family, your spouse, your children. The bills will still be there. The chores will still be there. The things that need fixing will always need fixing. But go and do the things that only people can do together. Have a relationship. Enjoy this life. Do not reduce it to one chore after another.

The Mission Is Simple

So what is the mission that comes out of these readings?

The temptation is to reduce people to less than they are. That temptation is everywhere, and it is constant.

As Christians, we are called to resist it. We are called to be experts in seeing people. Not voters, not customers, not data points, not cheap labor. People. With fears and hopes and dignity and souls.

That is the mission. And it starts today.