Sunday, 21 June 2026 — Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A
First Reading: Jeremiah 20:10-13
Second Reading: Romans 5:12-15
Gospel: Matthew 10:26-33
Full text on USCCB: https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/062126.cfm
Let’s be honest. A lot of us grew up believing a promise, and most of us have noticed it did not come true. The promise was that if we were careful enough, worked hard enough, and planned well enough, we could make our lives secure. But here we are, with more information and resources than any generation before us, and we are no less afraid.
We know this fear intimately. It is the heavy, quiet dread that wakes you in the middle of the night. You lie staring at the ceiling, your mind running through a punishing list of what-ifs. You worry about your kids making choices you cannot control. You worry about bills, job security, the health of someone you love, or the heartbreak of caring for a parent who might not even remember who you are anymore. Beneath it all is just this deep exhaustion. It is the heavy burden of trying to keep everything from falling apart, paired with the quiet realization that you simply cannot guarantee any of it.
It is right into this exact exhaustion that Jesus speaks to us today.
In the Gospel, He is sending His closest friends out into a hostile world. He is completely upfront about the real trouble they will face. Yet three times He tells them, not to be afraid (Mt 10:26, 28, 31). It’s interesting to notice what He does here. He does not wave a magic wand and make the fear disappear. He does not promise them a perfectly pain-free life. Instead, He redirects their gaze. He tells them to stop fearing what can only touch the body, and start standing in awe of the One who holds both body and soul (Mt 10:28). We spend so much energy looking at the loud, immediate threats in front of us that we forget whose hands we are actually in.
When Jesus tells us to fear the Father, He is not giving us one more thing to be anxious about. We have enough panic in our lives. He is inviting us into something much deeper. He is inviting us into a profound awe of the God whose love and judgment are the only verdict that finally matters.
We have seen this fearless awe before, in people who had every reason to panic but absolutely refused to let fear dictate their lives. Think about those three young men in the book of Daniel, dragged before a blazing furnace by a king who thought he held their lives in his hands (Dan 3:16-18). He gave them an ultimatum. Bow down, or burn. Their answer is one of the most courageous things ever spoken. They looked at the king and said, our God is able to save us, and He will. But even if He does not rescue us, we still will not bow to what you have made. They were not brave because they had a guarantee of physical safety. They had no such promise. They were brave because their awe belonged to someone the fire could never reach. A fire might burn a body to ashes, but it cannot touch a soul that is resting securely in God.
That same fearless trust sustained the prophet Jeremiah. Even when he was surrounded by people just waiting for him to fail, Jeremiah rooted himself in the God who sees right into the human heart (Jer 20:10-12). And my friends, this is the exact same Father who Jesus tells us has counted the very hairs of your head. Every single one is numbered (Mt 10:30). Let that sink in. You are known that intimately.
Jesus reminds us that sparrows are sold for pennies, yet not a single one falls to the ground without the Father knowing (Mt 10:29). Now, He does not promise that the sparrow will never fall. The fall is a reality of life in this world. But He promises that the fall never happens unseen. It never happens outside the Father’s hands. When we fall, we do not fall out of His reach.
You are not just drifting through a cold, random universe. You belong to the living God. You belong to the only One who has never once taken His eyes off of you. So this week, when that familiar fear wakes you in the middle of the night, or when the burden on your shoulders simply feels too heavy to carry, I want you to try something. Practice a new response. Speak one simple sentence out loud into the dark. Do not say it as a desperate wish, but as a hard truth you are learning to trust. Just say, “You are with me.” Say it over and over until it stops being just words. Say it until it becomes the solid ground you stand on when everything else feels like it is giving way.
For so long, we thought we could build walls high enough to keep the anxiety out. But those walls are never high enough, and honestly, they were never the answer. You were not made to build walls to keep the world out. You were made to be held by the God who loves you. Let your awe rest on Him. Trust the One who holds your soul and numbers the hairs on your head, and watch how those smaller, everyday fears begin to lose their grip on your life. Step forward with courage this week, knowing this beautiful truth. No one who has been seen that closely has ever been left alone in the dark.
Amen.
Yes, it’s not the walls that make us fearless but God’s love and His strong hands that hold us.
Praise and Glory to God 🙏🙏🙏