Fear Not 220

Brothers and sisters, gathered here in this humble stone sanctuary, where the flickering light of oil lamps casts shadows on these ancient walls, listen to the words of the prophet Isaiah, echoing through the ages: '...be glad and rejoice forever in what I am creating...' (Isaiah 65:18). Ah, what a divine invitation! In the hush of this sacred space, without the clamor of modern inventions, let us ponder this promise as the Early Church Fathers did, their voices rising like incense in the cathedrals of old. Draw near, my beloved, and hear how St. Jerome, that vigilant guardian of Scripture, unfolds this verse in the Catena Aurea. He teaches us that Isaiah speaks not merely of earthly joys, but of the new heavens and new earth, where God Himself creates a realm untouched by sorrow. 'Be glad,' he urges, for the Lord is fashioning Jerusalem anew—a city of righteousness, where the former troubles are forgotten. And oh, how St. John Chrysostom, the golden-mouthed preacher, amplifies this! In his homilies, he reminds us that this creation is God's ongoing work, a symphony of grace amidst our trials. 'Rejoice forever,' he proclaims, for even in exile, even in persecution, the faithful glimpse the eternal banquet prepared by the Creator. Consider Origen, that profound mystic of Alexandria, who in the Catena sees this as the spiritual renewal of the soul. God is creating within us, molding our hearts like clay in the potter's hands, transforming despair into delight. And St. Augustine, wrestling with the human condition in his Confessions, echoes this: 'You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.' This verse, he might say, calls us to rejoice in the divine artistry that redeems our fallen world, turning ashes to beauty. But let us bring this heavenly vision down to the dust of our daily lives, dear flock. In these times of uncertainty—when the Roman legions march, when famine grips the land, when illness shadows our homes—do we not feel the weight of the old creation? The struggles of the marketplace, the whispers of doubt in the night, the betrayals among kin—these are the thorns that pierce our flesh. Yet Isaiah bids us rejoice! Not in fleeting pleasures, but in what God is creating even now. See how He weaves hope through our hardships: the widow finds solace in communal prayer, the laborer discovers strength in the Eucharist, the sinner encounters mercy in confession. In this unplugged era, before the din of amplifiers drowns the still small voice, let us unplug from the illusions of self-sufficiency. The Fathers teach us that true joy springs from surrender to the Creator's hand. As St. Basil the Great notes in his commentaries, preserved in the Catena, this rejoicing is eternal because God's creation is inexhaustible—renewing the cosmos, renewing our spirits, pointing to the resurrection where all tears are wiped away. And so, my dear ones, in the glow of these lamps, let us lift our voices in passionate plea: Trust in God! Rejoice in His ongoing creation! For He who formed the stars is forming a new you, a new community, a new world. Cast aside fear; embrace the gladness that endures forever. Amen. #FearNot220 #FearNotUNPLUGGED #165of220 #Catholic