Standing Firm in the Storm
A Reflection on Matthew 10:17-22
Jesus speaks words to his disciples that might seem frightening at first:
they will be handed over to courts, flogged in synagogues, and brought before
governors and kings. But notice what he promises in the midst of this warning: the
Holy Spirit will speak through them. This is Jesus preparing his friends not to
be terrified, but to be ready. He's teaching them that following him isn't
about seeking comfort or popularity, but about remaining faithful even when it
costs them something. The Lord never promises his followers an easy road, but
he does promise his presence. I learned this in a stark way back in the early
1990s when I was promoting the rosary online. I received a threatening message,
someone with their face completely covered, holding a rifle, with text in what
appeared to be Aramaic and English words telling me to stop. I didn't know if
it was a man or a woman, where they were from, or what they truly intended. But I
blocked that person and kept going. The Lord has protected me, and I'm still
here. Over the years, I've faced plenty of ridicule, too, especially for praying
the rosary at different jobs, but I never stopped. When we face rejection or
hostility for our faith, we're participating in something ancient and sacred.
We're walking the same path the apostles walked, and Jesus walks it with us.
Years later, I was a manager at a company where I'd arrive an hour early,
before anyone else. I made it part of my prayer time each morning working there, to Pray The Rosary
while walking around the facility, asking our Lord for the safety and success
of the business and for all the people who worked there. After about a month or
so of this, I was called into the office by the owner, and I was told to stop
promoting the rosary and forcing it on everyone. I was stunned. "What are
you talking about?" I said. "No one even knows I do this. I'm praying
for your success, for your business. Why are you attacking me?" He
insisted that I had to stop. I later discovered they had cameras everywhere and
had been watching me. They were so opposed to my praying the Rosary in their
facility that they demanded I stop, and things became so uncomfortable that I
eventually had to quit. But between you, me, the Lord, and our Lady, after that
conversation, I just continued walking around, praying the rosary anyway, and
counting on my fingers, not making my rosary visible. I never actually stopped.
I'd rather lose my job than deny Jesus out of my life.
This kind of persecution, whether subtle or severe, reveals what Jesus knew his
followers would face. He says that family members will betray one another, and
that "you will be hated by all because of my name." Christian
discipleship can divide even the closest relationships, and Jesus isn't celebrating
that division; he's being honest about the cost of truth. When we stand for
what's right, when we refuse to go along with what's popular but wrong, when we
choose holiness over acceptance, there will be consequences. But the Gospel
reveals something powerful here: our ultimate identity isn't found in being
liked or fitting in, but in belonging to Jesus. The praise or blame of the
world cannot change who we truly are, beloved children of God, marked with the
blood of Christ, sealed with the sign of the cross.
Then comes the promise that steadies everything else: "the one who
perseveres to the end will be saved." This isn't about being perfect or
never struggling. Perseverance means getting back up when we fall, continuing
to pray when prayer feels dry, choosing love when hate seems easier, and
holding onto faith when doubt whispers in our ears. The Christian life is a
marathon, not a sprint. There will be days when living out our faith feels
natural and joyful, and there will be days when it requires every ounce of
strength we have. But Jesus promises that if we hold on to him, if we keep
putting one foot in front of the other in faith, he will bring us home. The
Church has always treasured the witness of the martyrs, not because they sought
suffering, but because they valued Jesus more than their own lives. We may
never be asked to give our physical lives, but we're all called to the daily
martyrdom of dying to selfishness, pride, and fear.
This Gospel invites us to examine where we stand. Are there areas of your life
where you've compromised your faith to avoid discomfort or conflict? When have
you experienced the Holy Spirit giving you words or courage you didn't think
you possessed? How can you support other Christians who are facing ridicule or
persecution for their beliefs? What does perseverance look like in your daily
life right now, in your relationships, your work, your prayer, your struggles?
And perhaps most importantly: what are you willing to endure for the sake of
Jesus' name?
©2025 James Dacey, Jr., OFS
