The 3 Great Fears of Human Beings, and the 3 Temptations of Jesus in the Desert

 

(First Sunday of Lent (C): This homily was given on March 9, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 4: 1-13.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: First Sunday of Lent 2025]

The late Fr. Benedict Groeschel was not only a priest, he was also a psychologist, with a doctorate from Columbia University.  That means he understood the workings of the human mind pretty well. 

In his book, The Virtue Driven Life, Fr. Groeschel made a very interesting statement in this regard.  He said, “Human beings have three great fears—to be no one, to have no one, and to have nothing—and they cause people to be self-centered and ungenerous.”

I read that line as I was in the process of preparing for this homily, and I said to myself, “That’s amazing!  Those are precisely the 3 temptations Jesus faced after his 40-day fast in the desert!”  Fr. Groeschel doesn’t make that connection directly in his book, but it’s true nonetheless.

This means that in dealing with these 3 temptations from the devil, Jesus was actually facing the 3 greatest fears that we face in our lives.

Let’s take them in the order Fr. Groeschel mentions them (which is actually the opposite of the order that Jesus experienced them in this Gospel story).

Human beings, he says, have 3 great fears.  The first is the fear of being no one—that is to say, the fear of being a nobody; the fear of not being recognized and appreciated for who we are.  Satan mistakenly thought he could find this fear inside of Jesus and use it to lead him into sin, and so he took our Lord to the very top of the Temple in Jerusalem.  There he said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written: ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to guard you, and with their hands they will support you, lest you dash your foot against a stone.’” 

Satan was saying, “Jesus, I know who you are—I know you’re one of those really important people that God the Father will protect.  But the men and women here in Jerusalem—they don’t know that.  They think you’re just an ordinary man.  So show them who you are; throw yourself down from here!  Just like it says in the 91^st psalm, God the Father will send a whole flock of angels from heaven to catch you—and everybody in the city will see it!  They’ll say, ‘Wow, this guy can fly!  He must be a special person.’  Then they’ll listen to you; then they’ll take your words seriously!”

Jesus was able to resist this temptation, because he had a PERFECT relationship with his heavenly Father.  He knew exactly who he was; he knew he was loved by God the Father with a perfect love—and he was completely secure and at peace in that knowledge.  Consequently, he wasn’t afraid of being a nobody.

But sometimes, we can be!  And it’s important for us to be aware of that, because this kind of fear can easily cause us to compromise our moral principles: “I want to be accepted by my friends—I want them to think I’m cool like they are—and so I’ll drink with them on weekends”; “I want my co-workers to like me, and so I’ll talk and act just like they do.”

The fear of being a nobody.

Andy Warhol used to talk about people wanting their 15 minutes of fame.  There’s a lot of truth in that.  Some people will do almost anything to get noticed these days.  Why do you think there are so many reality shows on TV?   Why do you think so many people with terrible voices audition for American Idol?  They don’t want to be “nobodies”.  They want to be known for something—even if that “something” brings them embarrassment and humiliation! 

The antidote to this kind of fear is a deep, personal relationship with the Lord.  (That’s not pious drivel; that’s reality!)  This is why our relationship with Jesus Christ—nourished by prayer and the sacraments—needs to be our top priority in this life!

Because the more we know and love Jesus—and even more importantly, the more we really know and understand his love for us—the less this fear of being a nobody will control us.

Put it this way—if Jesus Christ is my best friend; if I really know that he loves me just as I am; and if I know he will always be there for me, then I don’t have to be afraid of being a nobody!  Ever!  I’ll know—I’ll always know—that I’m a somebody!  I don’t have to prove anything to anyone.  As long as I’m striving to be faithful to Jesus, I have nothing to worry about.

The second fear according to Fr. Groeschel, is the fear of having no one.  Once again, Satan mistakenly thought he could find this fear within Jesus, and use it to get him to disobey his Father.  So he showed our Lord all the kingdoms of the world, and said to him, “I’ll give you all this power and glory, if you just worship me.”  In other words, “Jesus, you don’t have to worry about your future; you don’t have to be concerned that someday no one will care about you.  Just worship me, and I’ll make you the ruler of all these countries.  Then you’ll be all set!  You’ll have lots of servants—thousands of people at your beck and call at every moment of every day.  You’ll never be alone; you’ll never be neglected!”

Once again, this fear—the fear of having no one—was not in Jesus.  He knew he was never alone; he knew the Father was always with him.  And so he said to Satan, “You shall worship the Lord, your God; him alone shall you adore.”

Jesus didn’t give in to this fear, but we can.  Pretty easily.

Politicians who support immoral laws even though they are “personally opposed” give in to this fear.  They’re afraid that if they support the right laws, they’ll lose the support of those who helped to put them into office.

Priests who are afraid to teach EVERYTHING that the Church teaches in matters of faith and morals also give in to this fear.  They fear their parishioners won’t like them anymore.

Whenever a Catholic fails to speak up for what’s right and true when he knows that he should speak up—be it at work or at school or among his friends—that Catholic gives in to this type of fear.

And we’ve all been there, haven’t we?  I know I have!

The last fear Fr. Groeschel mentions, which ties in with the very first temptation of Jesus in this scene in the desert, is the fear of having nothing (or the fear of not having our needs met).  This is similar to the second fear in some respects, but the second one related more to persons; this one concerns possessions.

Satan said to Jesus, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to turn to bread.”  His message there was, “Jesus, you’re pretty hungry right now, aren’t you?  You’ve been fasting for 40 days and 40 nights in this awful desert.  Aren’t you worried about your health?  Aren’t you afraid of starving?  You should be!  Well, then, do something about it; satisfy your urge!  Give yourself a good meal!  You deserve it!”

Jesus, of course, knew that his Father would provide for all his needs, so he rejected this temptation immediately and said to Satan, “One does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

The fear of not having enough wasn’t present in Jesus Christ; but sometimes, once again, it can manifest itself in us.  Why, for example, do people steal?  Why do they cheat on their taxes?  Why do they cut corners in their businesses?  Why are they sometimes less charitable than they should be—or could be?

In many cases, it’s simply because they’re afraid!  They’re afraid that they don’t—or that they won’t—have enough!

So there they are—the 3 great fears we face during our time on this earth: the fear of being a nobody; the fear of having no one; the fear of having nothing. 

As we’ve just seen, Jesus was able to overcome every one of these fears, in and through the loving relationship he had with his heavenly Father.

But the good news is that we, too, can overcome them!  We can overcome these 3 fears by finding our strength, our security and our peace IN OUR RELATIONSHIP WITH JESUS!

So let’s resolve today to work very hard at improving our relationship with the Lord during this holy season of Lent—by prayer, by reading Scripture, perhaps by attending Mass and Eucharistic Adoration more frequently, and, of course, by going to Confession.  Let’s resolve to improve our relationship with Jesus in these very practical ways, and get rid of the fears that afflict us.

 

What will the Ashes I Wear Today be a Sign of?

(Ash Wednesday 2025: This homily was given on March 5, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Joel 2: 12-18; Psalm 51; 2 Corinthians 5: 20-6: 2; Matthew 6: 1-18.)

[Gor the audio version of this homily, click here: Ash Wednesday 2025]

A couple of years ago, Bishop Thomas Tobin, who was in charge of our diocese at the time, wrote a column in our diocesan newspaper, The Rhode Island Catholic, in which he spoke about the things we wear, and how what we wear often reflects, as he put it, “our belief or our loyalty”.  What we wear, in other words, is often a sign of something deeper.  He began by commending the Catholic school students who had been kicked out of the Smithsonian Museum a few weeks earlier for wearing hats that said, “Rosary Pro-Life.”  He commended those students for having worn something that was a sign of “their commitment to life.”

The Bishop went on to say, “How often we proudly wear a t-shirt, a sweatshirt or a hat bearing the name and logo of our favorite team, the Pittsburgh Steelers, for example.”  [Incidentally, both Fr. Mahoney and I think that was a very bad example that the Bishop used—but that’s another story!  His point was still well taken.]  The Bishop continued, “Sometimes we wear things that have religious meaning. Christians wear a cross to identify themselves as followers of Christ. Catholics wear medals or pins to share a favorite devotion. When a priest wears a purple vestment for Mass rather than a white vestment, it means something.”

Then he rightly noted that on Ash Wednesday we—and all Catholics--will leave church “wearing” something—something that we were not wearing when we entered the building before the Mass began. We will be wearing ASHES on our foreheads! Which brought him to the important point for our personal reflection this morning. He said that these ashes will be “a very visible sign.  But a sign of what?”

That’s the key issue for each of us to consider as we begin the holy season of Lent today: What will the ashes I wear today actually be a sign of?

• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to make my spiritual life—my relationship with Jesus Christ—my immortal soul—my top priority during the next 40 days?
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to pray more, and to read Scripture more often; that I intend to come to Mass faithfully every Sunday—and maybe even during the week?  You all got to Mass this morning.  How about doing that at least one morning a week throughout the Lenten season?
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I’m going to take an honest look at my life during the next 40 days, so that I can identify those things I need to change?  And will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to bring those matters—those faults—those sins—to the sacrament of Reconciliation at some point during the season of Lent, so that they can be forgiven?  Fr. Mahoney has added some extra times for confessions each week, so there’s no excuse for not getting there.
• Will they be a sign of the fact that I intend to seek reconciliation with people I’ve offended in my life (that would be a fantastic Lenten activity!), and will they be a sign that I will seek to grow in charity during this holy season?
• Or will wearing the ashes I receive this year simply be a sign of the fact that I somehow paid my “spiritual dues” on March 5, 2025; that I went through the motions, and did what many Catholics (probably most Catholics) think they’re supposed to do on Ash Wednesday every year?

Those are extremely important questions.  They’re the questions that need to be answered by us, and by everyone else who “wears” ashes on their forehead today.  Of course, they can only be answered adequately when Lent is over, and when we reflect back on what we’ve done—and not done—during this holy season.

May that reflection back help us to see, happily, that the ashes we wore this Ash Wednesday were a positive sign: a sign of the great spiritual growth and personal improvement that we would experience—and which we did experience—during the 40 days of Lent in 2025.

 

 

The ‘David Syndrome’ and How to Deal With it

 

Nathan confronts King David

(This homily was given on March 2, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Sirach 27:4-7; Psalm 92:2-16; 1 Corinthians 15:54-58; Luke 6:39-45.)

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Eighth Sunday 2025]

You could call it the “David Syndrome”—named after David, the second king of Israel.  It’s what Jesus is talking about in our gospel reading today from Luke 6, in that section where he says, ”Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam [i.e., the plank] in your own?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,’ when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye?”

As I said, this syndrome—this disorder—is named for King David, because this is precisely where he was at after he sinned with Bathsheba.

Most of us know the story.  David was out taking a stroll on his rooftop veranda one evening and he spotted a young woman bathing off in the distance.  So he invited her over to his place for a little “coffee-and”.  Not surprisingly, it was the “and” that got him into trouble.  One thing led to another (as the old saying goes), and the woman—Bathsheba—ended up pregnant.

Now David could have repented and ended things right there, but instead he made the decision to take matters into his own hands and to try to conceal his sin.  He called Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah the Hittite, home from battle and tried to get him to go home.  He wanted Uriah to sleep with his wife, and thus to think that he was the father of the child.  But Uriah refused to go.  And it was right for him to refuse because at the time the nation was at war, and Uriah was a good soldier.  Good soldiers in Israel weren’t supposed to go home to their families when a war was going on.

So David arranged to have Uriah killed.  He instructed the leader of his army, Joab, to put Uriah on the front lines of the battle, and then to pull back from him at a certain point, so that Uriah would be exposed to enemy attack—a “sitting duck,” so to speak.  Well Joab, unfortunately, did what David commanded him to do, and Uriah was, indeed, killed.

So there was David—guilty of two deadly (what we today would call “mortal”) sins—and yet he felt absolutely, positively no guilt whatsoever—about any of it!  For him, life was great.  He had a new wife (he ended up marrying Bathsheba) and a new son.  And in his kingdom, it was business as usual.

Until he was presented with a problem—a problem that supposedly involved someone else.  The prophet Nathan, inspired by the Spirit, came to David one day and said, “David, I need your help. I’m trying to figure out how to judge this particular case.  There were two men in a certain town; one was really, really rich, the other, unfortunately, was really, really poor.  The rich man had lots and lots of flocks and herds (too numerous to count); whereas the poor guy had just one little lamb that he had bought with the little money he had. But he loved that lamb—and so did his children.  It was part of their family.  That is, until the day the rich man stole the lamb from the poor man and his family, and cooked it up as a meal for one of his houseguests.  He could have chosen one of his own lambs to feed his friend (he had thousands to choose from), but he refused to do that.  What do you think about that man, David?  What’s your opinion?”

David got angry and said, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die!  He should be executed!”

Nathan said, “Well, that’s very interesting, David, because YOU ARE THAT MAN!!!”

That was the moment David realized that he had a plank sticking in his eye—and a pretty big one at that.  It was also the moment when he began the process of removing the plank.  Thankfully it did not take long for the king to admit his sin to Nathan.  In fact, the very first words that came out of David’s mouth after Nathan confronted him were the words, “I have sinned against the Lord.”  Later on David would express his repentance in the 51^st psalm when he wrote: “Have mercy on me, O God, in your kindness; in your compassion blot out my offence.  O wash me more and more from my guilt, and cleanse me from my sin.”

Hopefully it’s now clear: the “David Syndrome” is the tendency we all have to see the sins of other people more clearly than we see our own.  David saw the sin of the rich man in Nathan’s story very clearly, but he was blind to his own.  It reminds me of the little story I once read in a commentary on today’s readings.  Some of you probably have heard this before.  It’s about 4 monks who had taken a vow of silence.  All four of them were walking down the road one day, when one of them stubbed his toe on a rock.  He said, “Ow!”  The second turned to him and said, “You idiot!  You broke your vow of silence!”  The third said to the second, ”You’re a bigger idiot than he is; you broke your vow of silence in telling him that he broke his!”  The fourth one just smiled and said, “I’m the only one who didn’t.”

Here we have four men, each of whom saw the faults of the other three more clearly than he saw his own.

That’s fallen human nature; that’s the “David Syndrome.”

I think it’s providential that we have this particular gospel reading on the Sunday before Lent begins.  (Yes, believe it or not, this coming Wednesday is Ash Wednesday!)

Lent is a time of year when we should focus in a special way on the “planks” in our eyes: the planks that we, like David, tend not to be aware of—or that we may tend to ignore.  That requires some introspection; that requires some honest soul-searching, which in Catholic terms is commonly referred to as an “examination of conscience.”

Examining our consciences is actually something we should get in the habit of doing every day of the year.  If King David had examined his conscience after he committed adultery with Bathsheba, perhaps he wouldn’t have added murder to the list of serious sins he needed to repent of. 

Ordinarily, planks are removed for us in the sacrament of Reconciliation—even big planks like David’s.  Hopefully we will all make the effort to get to confession at least once during the upcoming Lenten season.  Remember, we have confessions here at St. Pius every Thursday afternoon at 5pm and every Saturday afternoon from 3-4:30pm—and other times by appointment.

All that having been said, my prayer for all of you is that this year you will have, not only a happy Easter, but also (and even more importantly) a “plank-free” Easter!

What Does Jesus Mean When He Tells Us To ‘Turn The Other Cheek’?

(Seventh Sunday of the Year (C): This homily was given on February 23, 2025 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by Fr. Raymond Suriani.  Read Luke 6: 27-38.) 

[For the audio version of this homily, click here: Seventh Sunday 2025]

“To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other as well.”

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that these words of Jesus have caused many people over the centuries to shake their heads in disbelief. 

They’ll typically say, “Is he serious?  Does Jesus expect us to subject ourselves to physical abuse and like it?  Is he saying that if we defend ourselves from physical attack it’s a mortal sin?  What does he mean when he tells us to ‘turn the other cheek’?” 

Well, to answer these questions properly, we need to make a very important distinction: the distinction between those things which are morally wrong, those things which are morally legitimate, and those things which are morally virtuous.  For example, if an armed soldier refuses to defend an innocent civilian in battle, and allows that person to be attacked or killed, that soldier commits a sin!  His failure to help a defenseless person is morally wrong!  Listen to what Jesus (speaking through his Church) tells us in the Catechism.  This is from paragraph 2265 which deals with the 5^th commandment (“Thou shalt not kill.”).  There we are told, “Legitimate defense can be not only a right but a grave duty for one who is responsible for the lives of others.  The defense of the common good requires that an unjust aggressor be rendered unable to cause harm.  For this reason, those who legitimately hold authority also have the right to use arms to repel aggressors against the civil community entrusted to their responsibility.”

That soldier could have done something—and SHOULD have done something—to save an innocent person from an unjust aggressor.  But he consciously and deliberately failed to carry out his duty, and therein lies his sin.

So, obviously, when Jesus says, “Offer [your other cheek],” he is not saying that we should permit the destruction of the innocent or the defenseless!

Nor is he saying that we should allow ourselves to be abused or killed!  That’s another common misunderstanding of the text.

The Catechism is very clear on this point: Self-defense is morally legitimate, as long as it’s proportional to the attack.  For example, if someone tries to slap your face without good reason, it would not be morally permissible to pull out a 44 Magnum and blow them away!  But it would be permissible to block the person’s hand and neutralize the attack— that’s a proportional defense.

The basis of this, believe it or not, is the idea that we should love ourselves!  Remember, Jesus said, “Love your neighbor AS YOU LOVE YOURSELF.”  Self-love is not bad, as long as it’s not prideful or egotistical or narcissistic.  We are to love ourselves because we are created in God’s image and likeness; we are to love ourselves because we are “temples of the Holy Spirit.”

Listen once again to the words of the Catechism.  These are taken from paragraph 2264: “Love toward oneself remains a fundamental principle of morality.  Therefore it is legitimate to insist on respect for one’s own right to life.”

God has entrusted a “temple of the Holy Spirit” to each of us; consequently it’s morally permissible for us to defend our temple if it’s unjustly attacked. 

Leaving aside now these misunderstandings, what exactly is Jesus saying?  What are the challenges he’s giving us in this command to “turn the other cheek?”  Well, first of all, he’s challenging us to forgive others totally and completely; that means he’s challenging us to let go of any and every grudge.  He’s also challenging us not to seek vengeance. He’s challenging us to be patient with the shortcomings of others and to love everyone, even our enemies.  In short, Jesus is challenging us to do all those things we have great difficulty doing!

And he’s also challenging us in our willingness to endure unjust suffering for his sake and the sake of his Gospel: for example, the suffering that comes when a co-worker calls us “a religious fanatic” because we believe in the 10 Commandments; the suffering that comes when family members refuse to associate with us because we take our faith seriously and refuse to compromise our beliefs; the suffering that comes to the young Christian person who’s ostracized by his so-called friends because he won’t drink, or do drugs, or engage in promiscuous sexual activity. 

These are examples of the “little martyrdoms” that Jesus challenges us to embrace every day in his name!

So the bottom line is this: It’s morally wrong not to defend the innocent, when you have a responsibility to do so; it’s morally legitimate to defend yourself from an unjust aggressor; but it’s morally virtuous to endure unjust sufferings and little martyrdoms each day, for the sake of Jesus Christ and his Gospel. 

Through the power of the Eucharist that we receive at this Mass, may God give us the special grace we need to be morally virtuous in this way, taking our ultimate motivation from Jesus himself, who said, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on account of the Son of Man.  Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!  Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.”