A Receptive Heart: Living by Faith

We often speak about faith, but what does it really mean, and how can we live out this virtue? Today’s reflection reminds that it requires courage and perseverance, especially in uncertain times.

August 10, 2025: Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C
Wisdom 18:6–9
Psalm 33:1, 12, 18–22
Hebrews 11:1–2, 8–19
Luke 12:32–48

A Receptive Heart: Living by Faith

A reflection by Richard Young

Eleven years ago, I had a particularly memorable pastoral visit. It was for a dying gay friend, who was revered in my local Dignity faith community and throughout the entire area. His name was Leon, and he served on the board of our LGBTQ+ Center during the 80s. He was very instrumental in organizing our first pride parade in 1987, an event which, especially in those days, drew some very hateful folks. Over the years, that even included a few neo-Nazis. Leon had guts! He also managed to acquire an official historical plaque from the state to honor a prominent lesbian author who was born in our city more than a century earlier. Her marker was erected on the grounds of Leon’s place of employment: our downtown metro library. Unfortunately, it was vandalized several times, but to honor Leon, the community continues to maintain it.

I could write so much more about how fascinating Leon was, and about his amazing accomplishments, but I think what I will remember most about him was the apparent state of his soul, when I saw him a day or two before his death. In all my years as a priest, I had never before seen someone so at peace about that transition. Leon could be very charming, and he was laughing and joking with the hospital staff and thanking them for their good work. He knew the end was near, and it seemed that he was sort of looking forward to it. I gave him the eucharist and the anointing of the sick, which he received with great reverence. He seemed really happy to see me, and after our prayer, he gave me a sweet smile, held my hand, and chatted with me for a few more minutes. As I left, I felt as though he blessed me far more than I blessed him.
   
Our readings, especially the second one, tell us about faith. I tell the story about Leon’s faith, because it is essential that this virtue is understood as more than some dry, theological concept. It is more than something that begs for a definition over which scholars can argue. I will share a couple of those well-crafted definitions in this reflection, but don’t expect them to be inspiring all by themselves. To really make sense, they need the Leons of the world. Talking about faith, without including stories of those who live by it, is like eating pasta without sauce; it’s boring and tasteless.
   
“Faith is confident assurance concerning what we hope for and conviction about things we do not see.” This is the meaning of faith according to our second reading’s author. Confident assurance and conviction were certainly exemplified in the life of my friend. He was indeed a man of faith. But that first century writer knew his definition wasn’t enough. More examples, such as Leon, were needed. The whole letter is a kind of sermon, addressed to Jewish Christians who had become weary of the demands of Christian life—tired, no doubt, of trying to love their enemies and of turning the other cheek, tired of dealing with persecution from both the Roman occupiers and the temple authorities. Some of Jesus’ followers had become, what evangelicals call “backsliders.” The epistle was intended to give encouragement to those slackers and to remind them of the virtue and toughness it takes to live the values of Jesus—to live with uncertainty and with radical obedience to God, just as he did. To give those weary ones the boost they needed, to put flesh on that faith definition, our Hebrews author turned to Old Testament heroes and sheroes. In this section of his sermon, he praises Abraham and Sarah for their courageous trust. He wrote that “by faith Abraham obeyed,” and “by faith Sarah received power to conceive, though she was past the age.” There are several further virtuous biblical ancestors that are mentioned in other parts of the letter. The lectionary gives only a tiny sampling.
   
Thankfully, examples of other holy ones with confident assurance and conviction are not hard to come by. My friend Leon easily came to my mind. He, like Abraham, “went forth” in his life, not always “knowing where he was going” and accepted his impending death with a strong faith. The Hebrews reading says that “by faith” Abraham “sojourned in the promised land... looking forward to the city with foundations, whose designer and maker is God.” Leon looked forward to the same—what some would call Heaven.

It is by faith that millions gathered for the NO KINGS rallies that took place all over the country on June 14. Also during that month, it was by faith that huge numbers of LGBTQIA+ persons and our allies celebrated our pride. Last month we remembered that, by faith, our nation’s flawed (but courageous) founders on July 4, 1776, approved a dangerous declaration that set them on an uncertain journey. Following their example, it is by the power of faith that we continue to work for justice, even when it sometimes seems fruitless to do so. It is by faith that good people fight off cynicism and despair.  
   
Our Wisdom passage is also about faith. It is also from a long sermon—this one, about the Exodus from Egypt and God’s saving power. It tells of our ancestors, led by Moses, and how they were “given the courage to trust (God’s) promises” (Inclusive Bible translation). They needed faith and courage in their struggles as an enslaved people. Could it be that the author of our Wisdom passage was motivated to re-tell the Exodus story, because he, too, was trying to encourage backsliders and slackers? Maybe his people needed to be reminded about where they came from—that their predecessors under Pharaoh had to endure severe hardships and uncertainties and knew that giving up on their trust in God would have been suicidal.
   
In our country, in these stressful days of cruelty and fascism, faith, for too many, has become a shallow label, as in the term faith-based. It is too often equated with simple belief in the words of a creed—a set of doctrines or dogmas. As the Late Episcopal Bishop John Spong wrote, “Creeds... are not and should never have been allowed to become strait jackets that we were required to put on in order to pretend that we have captured the truth of God.” Faith is so much more than believing; it is a virtue and a gift of which courage is an essential component. The word “virtue” has the same root as the word “virile,” which means manly or strong or tough (vir, the Latin for “man”). Of course, those qualities are not limited to one gender. Being virtuous simply requires a brave spirit that cannot be broken, one that, in these times, refuses to accept pharaohs or kings. The Roman Catholic catechism calls faith “the gift of God by which we freely accept God’s self-communication in Christ.” As with the other theological virtues (hope and love), it requires a receptive heart, willing to accept a gift that comes from the power of the divine.

As a gift, faith requires the same courage and the same virtue that our ancestors had—the courage to face even death, as my friend Leon did, with the confidence that God (however we perceive of the Divine) will be there. Faith is in our moving forward, regardless of uncertainty and danger, regardless of the consequences of living with radical love, as Jesus taught, regardless of the mistakes we may make along the way. It doesn’t guarantee that all will work out well; it just powers us to continue toward the Promised Land with assurance and conviction.

The lectionary for this Sunday gives us a gospel passage that says nothing directly about faith. Still, Luke has given us a collection of sayings and a parable that teach us about discipleship and the courage it requires. It also warns Luke’s sometimes backsliding readers to be alert: “Be on guard; the Promised One will come when least expected.” The need for faith, as a gift and a virtue, is certainly implied. I can’t “be on guard” without it.

Our DignityUSA National Conference, which I was proud to help host in my home state in July, was the result of numerous acts of faith. We were blessed to have so many talented folks from all over the country, who could work together to organize such a huge event. At the conference, the demands of discipleship of which Luke’s Jesus taught were addressed. The confident assurance and conviction mentioned in our Hebrews reading and which our Old Testament ancestors exemplified were clearly in the hearts of the conference attendees. And the courage of an enslaved people, which our Wisdom author applauded, was evident in the stories of our conference speakers—queer people who kept moving forward to their Promised Land, often not knowing where they were going. Faith, as both a gift and a virtue, was on display in Dublin, Ohio. If you missed it, the good news is that there are video recordings of most sessions, and they will all be posted on the DignityUSA YouTube channel within the next week. Please watch, and be inspired!

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Rev. Richard P. Young is a retired Catholic priest and mental health counselor.  He regularly presides and preaches at liturgies for Dignity/Dayton’s Living Beatitudes Community and has worked with several Dignity Chapters since the late 70s.  He once served for a term on the national board of DignityUSA and has attended all the national conventions/conferences since 1981.  He is married to former DignityUSA national secretary, Bob Butts.  Richard was honored with a President’s Award at the 2022 Dignity National Conference in San Diego and was the homilist for the liturgy at the 2025 conference in Dublin, Ohio.

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