What are you afraid of? A few years ago, I came across an article about cancer specialists and end-of-life conversations. The article explained that many doctors hesitate to tell terminally ill patients the full truth about their condition. One of the biggest reasons wasn’t lack of knowledge. It wasn’t lack of compassion. It was fear. The doctors feared breaking devastating news. They feared causing pain. They feared taking away hope.
Thank you for taking the time to read this homily for the 12th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME -JUNE 21, 2026 – Your support means a great deal to me, and I’m deeply grateful for the many who share these messages with their friends, families and social media followers. If you’ve found meaning in these words, I’d be grateful if you’d share them with others who might benefit.
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Yet the article pointed out something surprising. Patients who were honestly informed about their condition often did better emotionally and spiritually than those who were not. Knowing the truth helped them prepare. It helped them make important decisions. It helped them have conversations with loved ones that they had been putting off.
The truth didn’t eliminate fear. But it helped people face it.
Reading that article reminded me of one of Jerry Seinfeld’s classic observations. He said: “According to most studies, people’s number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. Death is number two. This means to the average person, if you’re at a funeral, you’re better off in the casket than doing the eulogy.”
It’s funny because it’s absurd. But it’s also funny because it’s true.
Fear has a remarkable ability to shape our lives.
So let me ask again: What are you afraid of?
Maybe it’s a health issue… financial uncertainty, or loneliness, or watching your children head down difficult paths. Maybe it’s the future, aging, being forgotten, or the possibility of failure. Maybe it’s simply the fear of speaking up when you stand alone. For many of us, much of our energy is spent quietly trying to manage our fears.
That’s why today’s readings are so fitting.
In our first reading, we find the prophet Jeremiah, and he was terrified.
Sometimes we imagine prophets as these fearless super heroes of faith. They were being sent by God to share His message, so that had to make them confident, bold, and unwavering, right? Well, Jeremiah was nothing like that.
He knew exactly what God was asking him to do.
God had sent him to speak uncomfortable truths to people who had no interest in hearing them.
Israel was headed toward disaster. The people had wandered away from God. And so the message that God had given to His people through Jeremiah was clear: if they did not change, catastrophe would follow.
No one wanted to hear it. And Jeremiah paid the price.
He was mocked. Ridiculed. Rejected. Threatened.
In today’s reading he explains: “I hear the whisperings of many: ‘Terror on every side!'”
He knows people are waiting for him to fail. Waiting for him to stumble. Waiting for an opportunity to tear him down.
Yet despite his fear, Jeremiah keeps speaking. Why?
Because he feared disappointing God more than he feared disappointing people.
That’s a lesson we desperately need today. We live in a culture where many people are terrified of what others think. People carefully curate their social media profiles. They avoid difficult conversations. They remain silent about deeply held convictions. They measure truth by popularity. Many people are less concerned with being faithful than being liked.
Jeremiah reminds us that sometimes following God means standing apart from the crowd.
And that’s never comfortable.
Jesus takes this even further in today’s Gospel. Three times in a few short verses He says:
“Do not be afraid.” Not once. Not twice. Three times.
Whenever Jesus repeats Himself, it’s because He knows we’re going to need the reminder.
He is preparing the disciples for opposition. He knows they will face rejection. He knows they will be mocked. He knows some will lose friendships, status, opportunities, and even their lives because of Him.
Yet His message remains: “Fear no one.” Now notice what Jesus does not say. He does not say there is nothing to fear. He does not say life will be easy. He does not say bad things won’t happen. He doesn’t promise comfort. He promises something better. He promises His presence.
The reason Christians need not be ruled by fear is not because life is safe.
It’s because God is faithful.
The same God who notices every sparrow that falls.
The same God who knows every hair on your head.
The same God who created you, redeemed you, and calls you by name.
That’s why Jesus says:
“So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”
Think about that.
The God who governs galaxies knows your name.
The God who holds the universe in existence knows your worries.
The God who conquered death knows exactly what is keeping you awake at night.
And He has not abandoned you.
Yet perhaps the most important part of today’s Gospel is when Jesus says:
“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.”
In other words, there are things worse than physical suffering. There are things worse than failure. There are things worse than embarrassment. There are things worse than death.
The greatest tragedy would be allowing fear to separate us from God. Because fear can do that. Fear can keep us from answering God’s call. Fear can keep us from forgiving. Fear can keep us from loving. Fear can keep us from committing ourselves fully to marriage, priesthood, religious life, or whatever vocation God has given us. Fear can keep us from speaking about our faith. Fear can keep us from trusting God’s plan. Fear can slowly shrink our lives until we become spectators instead of disciples.
The enemy doesn’t always need to destroy faith outright. Sometimes all he has to do is make us afraid enough to stop living it. That’s why courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is choosing faith despite fear. Every saint experienced fear. Peter experienced fear. Paul experienced fear. Jeremiah experienced fear.
Even Jesus, in His humanity, experienced anguish in Gethsemane.
The saints were not fearless people. They were people who trusted God more than they trusted their fears.
Pope Benedict XVI once said: “A disciple of Christ is one who, in the experience of human weakness, has had the humility to ask for His help, has been healed by Him, and has set out following closely after Him.”
That’s the invitation today. Not to pretend we have no fears. Not to deny them. Not to ignore them. But to place them before Jesus. To stop letting them make our decisions. To stop letting them define our future. To stop letting them determine our priorities.
Because the truth is that every one of us is going to serve something. Either we will serve our fears. Or we will serve our faith. One of those paths leads to anxiety and paralysis. The other leads to freedom.
The world offers many voices competing for our attention. Experts. Politicians. Commentators. Influencers. Algorithms.
All of them eager to tell us what we should fear next. But only one person has conquered sin and death. Only one person walked out of a tomb. Only one person can say with authority: “Do not be afraid.” His name is Jesus Christ. May we trust Him. May we follow Him. And may we never allow fear to keep us from becoming the disciples He calls us to be.









