Commentary on 12th Sunday (B)

This reflection comes from Father Paul O’Reilly, S.J., a doctor and a Jesuit priest who currently works with the homeless in London:

Year B: 12th Sunday of Ordinary Time

“Why are you so frightened? How is it that you have no faith?”

When I first went on the missions I had fond imaginings of trekking up 
through the jungle like the last of the Mohicans, so I felt a bit 
disappointed that it turned out just to be a flight in a small plane. 
But, if I had wanted a test of courage, I don’t think I could have 
chosen better. It turned out to be an ‘Islander’ – a twin engined 
propeller-driven job which really should have retired at the same time 
as Biggles. From the inside, it bore a disturbing resemblance to the 
Mini Minor on which I learned to drive. Suddenly I discovered that a few 
hundred adolescent butterflies were holding a ‘rave’ inside my stomach. 
And the moment when the pilot turned round and cheerily explained that 
our take-off might be “a bit twisty” as he would have to steer around 
the potholes on the runway seemed to coincide with the time when the 
butterflies started handing round the Ecstasy.

Nevertheless, we somehow wobbled up into the air and flew hesitantly off 
in the general direction of the Venezuelan border. >From 6,000 feet, the 
view was magnificent: all around us thirty thousand square miles of the 
world’s greatest unspoiled rain-forest stretched away in all directions. 
We flew over the vast expanse of the mighty Demerara and Essequibo 
rivers. And I’m sure I would have thoroughly enjoyed it all, had the 
view not been slightly obscured by the flapping of the upper part of the 
engine cover, from which a couple of screws had fallen off. I was also a 
little distracted when the pilot, having got us up to level flight, 
looked around him, decided that everything was satisfactory, sat back, 
took his hands off the controls, lifted his feet from the pedals and 
busied himself with a crossword. For all I know they do exactly the same 
on a British Airways 747, but at least there you can’t see the joystick 
waggling about of its own volition.

Suddenly - and for the rest of the flight - I was terrified at the 
thought of the plane being out of control and spiralling down to an 
interesting but brief explosion in the rain forest. Of course, that 
never happened - the plane carried on serenely in level flight until we 
got to our destination. And I am sure that there was never any real 
danger at all. But, even knowing that in my head and trying to tell it 
to myself, didn’t actually make it feel any better.

And even after three years of flying regularly a couple of times a week 
in our small plane, I still couldn’t entirely get rid of it. I still 
felt just a little bit nervous getting into the plane. The pilots 
thought it was hilarious and (I am convinced) did extra aerobatics just 
to wind me up. But I still kept hearing the words of the old Amerindian 
man who preferred to go down to the coast by trail, rather than by plane:

As he said: “If the truck breaks down, then where you is, is where you is.
If the plane breaks down, then where you is, is where you ain’t!”

But in the Gospel, the fears of the disciples are not the fears of 
people who haven’t done this before. These are experienced fishermen who 
know exactly what a storm is and who know that this is a bad one. The 
fears that can beat us do not come from a lack of knowledge or a lack of 
experience. They come from a lack of faith. It is by Faith that we can 
trust – whether or not our feared disaster happens – the boat sinks; the 
plane falls out of the sky; or whatever is our personal dread that wakes 
us up in a cold sweat at 2 in the morning. Whatever it is, the answer is 
not: “oh don’t worry about it, it’s not going to happen.” It just very 
well might.

Faith is the ability to know – not just in the head, but in the heart – 
that even if the very worst does happen, Jesus is still with me in the 
boat and He loves me and He saves me.

One of the pilots once gave me a card which said: “Jesus – ain’t nothing 
going to happen today that you and me can’t handle together.” - Which 
might sound a bit twee, but when he gave it to me, he also said: “Every 
pilot knows that he can get it wrong and fly into a mountain. Well, if I 
do that, at least I can know I was doing something worthwhile at the time.”

Let us pray that, whatever fears, risks and dangers we encounter in 
living out our own missions in Life, we may know and trust that God goes 
with us into all of them. And that, if it does all go horribly wrong, 
that at least we were doing something worthwhile at the time.

Grant us Lord that freed from fear and saved from the hands of our foes, 
we may serve you in holiness and justice all the days of our life in 
your presence.

Let us profess our Faith in Christ who calms all the fears and 
storms in our lives.

Paul O'Reilly, SJ <fatbaldnproud@opalityone.net>