Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Like many people, I have struggled for years with the question of faith. It’s not so much a question as it is an “intangible” in search of a definition. I think I know what faith is, but what I know is always shifting, always changing. Some days I have greater certainty, other days I am completely in the dark. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trying to hold in my hands something that cannot be held, like moonlight or grief or happiness. The descriptions in the bible we read though intended to illustrate and clarify the concept of faith sometimes leave me nowhere nearer to a working understanding, which I sometimes wish I had considering my line of work. Lucky for me, I don’t get asked the question often. I know some people expect me to have faith in abundance, and I guess I can fake it well. And often, people who ask the question don’t really want to hear my answer. Instead, they want to tell me what they understand and answer their own question. And the fact that people are still asking what faith is, where do you get it, what does it cost, how much of it do I need, does it go bad if I don’t use it, and will I run out if I use it everyday … tells me not everyone is satisfied with the answers out there (and people definitely have strange and interesting ideas about faith altogether).

When I was younger, I thought that faith was something I had to come up with in response to God’s invitation to believe. Every time I joined the assembly at church each week in professing the Nicene Creed, I was announcing to the world that I had faith, or something like it. I didn’t always understand what I said when I professed that creed (I don’t think I will completely understand it ever), but it was a quantifiable expression of faith. I could finally describe it in words. Then I found out faith is first a gift that God gives. Eventually I wondered whether God gave the gift of faith to everyone. God seems to like doing stuff like that, giving the best gifts to the clueless, the undeserving, and the ungrateful. But if everyone got the same gift of faith, would it still be a gift? And if some didn’t get the gift, wouldn’t that be like a punishment instead? But then I thought God gives everyone the gift of free will, so that we have the power to make good and bad choices, the power to accept and reject any of God’s gifts. It’s still a gift even if God gives it to everyone. And the value of that gift of faith is not diminished by its misuse, abuse, or neglect. You might not get the best mileage out of it if you don’t use it according to the manufacturer’s instructions, but it is the very same gift that your saintly mother received, the same gift that convicts on death row received, the same gift that Pope Leo received. The difference it appears is what you do with it.

The sacred author of the Letter to the Hebrews defines faith as “the realization of what is hoped for and evidence of things not seen.” (11: 1) I’m not sure that makes it any clearer for me. The Catholic Encyclopedia online makes a distinction between faith that is an individual’s personal response to revealed truths, and the body of those truths that form a particular collective religious experience. So the entirety of what the Catholic church teaches and offers to its members can be properly considered a “faith” as well as each person’s embrace of these truths, whatever defines our understanding of religion. But the question of religion is something else altogether. People have said to me many times it’s all the same, that God doesn’t care which church you go to as long as you go, that you don’t even need to go to church just as long as you believe in God. I no longer argue with them when they tell me that. So I just give them a tilted half-nod and a smirk, meaning “well, you can tell yourself that” but we’ll need some time if you want to know what I think. And you know where to find me if you really want to go there.

The book of Wisdom speaks about the Passover as one concrete expression of a people’s faith, following specific instructions from God, and their heartfelt conviction that God would save them from their oppressors. This historical event is fundamental to the Jewish faith. Abraham acted on his faith, as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews. At that time, there was no collection of beliefs and teachings to constitute a religion. But his faith was definitely a personal conviction in God’s trustworthiness which he showed by the choices he made, like leaving his father’s house for some unknown land and trusting God’s promise he would be a father of many nations while yet being childless. And following his example, those who came after Abraham built their faith in God on the promises made to him, as well as their personal belief in God’s trustworthiness.

In the gospel, Jesus challenges his listeners to take courage, to reach out to their neighbors in need, to remain vigilant, not slacking in their conviction, to be worthy of their master’s trust that they would distribute food to their fellow servants at the proper time, and be ready to open the door when he arrives … all quantifiable expressions of their heartfelt conviction in God’s trustworthiness. Jesus may not have mentioned strict adherence to a specific set of teachings or beliefs, but he did tell his listeners to practice what they believe. Only much later, before returning to the Father after the resurrection did he speak of building a church on the rock of Peter’s faith, the same Peter whom he rebuked for dismissing his announcement of his passion and death, “Get behind me Satan. You are thinking not as God does but as human beings do.” (Mt 16: 23), the same Peter who asked Jesus to call him to walk across the water, but doubted and began to sink, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” (Lk 14: 31). Surely there must be so much more to faith than just one’s own belief in God’s trustworthiness, heartfelt and genuine as that might be.

How does a person acquire faith?—is what it comes down to. If God gives faith as a gift, then the seed has already been planted in our hearts. And how does the seed of faith germinate, thrive, blossom, and bear fruit? I am no gardener, but I think it requires proper rich soil and an environment that fosters growth. The expressions of faith that belong to a people of genuine faith provide just that good soil and healthy environment. And building on that foundation is a life nourished with humble prayer, joyful worship, genuine moral decision-making, sincere care for one’s neighbor, and the good example of companions attentive about truly putting their faith into practice. It’s not a complex formula, but it can’t be left entirely to chance either. Faith needs to be nurtured and strengthened and challenged. So when we fall on difficult times, when our faith is tested, when darkness and our oppressors surround us on every side, we will not be forced to place our trust blindly in some Stranger whom we do not know.

We are often told to “have faith” especially when there isn’t much else to say. It’s just another way of saying: “Let go of your need to be in control, of your need to know what’s going on and why. Trust that God knows, that God cares for his children, and that God doesn’t give up.” There isn’t much else that really matters ultimately, except that we do our best to live as we believe, and in doing so, prepare to be with God for all eternity. And if we believe that God is trustworthy, what need have we to fear?

Rolo B Castillo © 2025