Fear No One

Reflection for June 21, 2026 – The Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

In today’s Gospel, Jesus encourages his twelve disciples to be brave as they go out and preach the good news. He reminds them that God loves them and will protect them.  Find Today’s Reading Here

In the 1883 painting “Mass in a Connemara Cabin,” a small congregation of shabbily dressed faithful is huddled together in a sparsely appointed room. A priest extends his hand over them in blessing. One woman presses her forehead to the ground in prayer.

This painting, created in 1883 by Aloysius O’Kelley, depicts a “station Mass,” offered for the community in a private home. Though this practice originated in the period of the Penal Laws, when Catholic worship was illegal in Ireland, it persisted even after the “emancipation” of Catholics in the 19th century.

I have used quotation marks around the word “emancipation” because we must never forget that just because something is made legal does not mean it is made popular. And it certainly is not made safe.

In the moments that pass immediately after this scene concludes, the altar candles will be extinguished and the faithful will disperse, carrying the Body and Blood of Christ into a world suspicious of him, suspicious of them.

And yet here they are, kneeling. Foreheads pressed to the floor.

This painting sits on my family’s prayer table as a call to reflection. I make my living writing Catholic things for Catholic publications. The people who read what I write are bound to agree with me — they’re usually reading my words in a church. I must confess that in my personal life, I am far less bold. I fear controversy. I dread giving offense. I buckle beneath the weight of discipleship.

It doesn’t matter that most Americans identify as “Christians” — the world we face when we leave Mass is every bit as resentful of true Catholic teaching as the world that lies beyond O’Kelley’s Connemara cottage. And while I do not fear those who can kill my body, I do fear those who can kill my reputation.

“Mass in a Connemara Cabin” illustrates how my ancestors worshiped: in secret, in shadow.

I worship in the daylight.

Which of us acknowledges Christ more fully? More courageously?

©LPi