Honesty and Authenticity, Growth and Healing
by Fr. Rich Andre, C.S.P.
February 8, 2021

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on the 5th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year B) on February 7, 2021, at St. Vincent de Paul Parish  in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Job 7:1-4, 6-7; Psalm 147; 1 Corinthians 9:16-19, 22-23; and Mark 1:29-39.

Sometimes, I fall into a “funk” in my prayer life. In those times, it seems like all I do is ask God for things to get me through the day: give me energy, Lord. Give me discipline. Give me productivity. Give me joy. Frankly, it’s a rather dry form of prayer. It’s an indication that I’m not putting much into my relationship with God, that I’m staying on the surface.

I occasionally shake myself out of the funk by remembering the advice of my former spiritual director, Sr. Michael Julian: don’t pray for what you want; pray with what you have. Sr. Mike doesn’t mean just giving thanks for the gifts we’ve received. She’s also saying that it’s OK to be more honest with God about what’s not going well. I’m tired, Lord. I’m scared. I can’t get everything done in the way I’d prefer to do it.

Our Scriptures today speak of pain and illness, and our need for God to heal us. Let us take a moment to ask God to pour out his mercy upon us yet again.


It is spiritually healthy to be an optimist. But in our prayer life, we need to combine that optimism with realism. A lot of us are overly polite with God. Often, when we’re struggling, we think we need to work it out on our own, rather than taking it to God. “Thanks for the gifts, Holy Spirit,” I often find myself thinking. “I’ll take it from here.” When we approach the spiritual life this way, we may be embodying that “can-do” American independent spirit, but we’re also living out Pelagianism, a belief that Christianity considers to be a heresy. We are in constant need of God’s help. God sustains us at every moment of our lives. We can’t do anything without God. 

For any of us to cultivate a meaningful relationship with anyone, we need to strive for honesty in speaking and openness in listening. If I don’t feel safe being honest with someone, it’s not a very deep relationship. If the other person feels unable to be open with me, it’s sign that we need to build up the bonds of trust. It’s the same in our relationship with God: we need to be honest with God about our struggles, and we need to be open to God’s suggestions on how to convert our lives.

Even if illness or death hasn’t touched our circle of family and friends in the pandemic, and even if we haven’t experienced financial hardship this past year, life is tougher and more stressful for most of us in February 2021 than it was in February 2020. We need to acknowledge that in our prayer time. Conversation with God should be a safe space for facing our vulnerabilities.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit, when the lector proclaimed Job’s words, “I shall not see happiness again,” I found it hard to respond, “Thanks be to God.” It’s a form of prayer called a lament – a complaint or a plea to God for help. One out of every three psalms in the Book of Psalms is also a lament. That’s pretty remarkable, since we regard the psalms as the most polished examples of how we can talk with God. And none of these psalms include a line that says, “But God, I realize that other people have it worse than I do.”

Rather than listen to the laments of Job and the psalms, I wish all our scriptures were as happy as today’s gospel about Jesus’ first day in public ministry. But even here, Jesus makes it clear that his healings of the sick are an integral part of his preaching. The people in Mark’s gospel recognize Jesus’ authority from God, because Jesus acknowledges their sufferings and illnesses. If we don’t cry out to God about our fears and our failings, I doubt we’ll see the hand of God whenever we are delivered from our trials.

Over the years, I’ve found that my periods of growth as a disciple follow a similar path nearly every time: I haltingly start to realize a struggle or a failing that I have. Then, I ask the Holy Spirit to give me insight, which may involve minutes, days, or months of better understanding exactly why I’m struggling or how I’m failing. Then, and only then, am I ready to authentically ask God for the gifts that I need. When I look back over my old prayer journals, I’m repeatedly shocked to find how quickly God answers my prayers when I wrestle with understanding the failing first, before I ask for the gift!

If there is one day of the year when most of us talk with God about our failings, it’s Ash Wednesday, which is coming up in another week and a half. Let’s remember that talking to God about our shortcomings is never the end goal of our prayer. It is an opportunity for us to allow the Holy Spirit to bring us into a deeper, more honest, more open relationship with God. After all, the goal of Lent is not 40 days of Ash Wednesday in a row. As Thomas Merton once wrote, “Lent is… not a season of punishment so much as one of healing.” We are to use to the moment of Ash Wednesday to begin a season of growth. The English word “Lent” comes from an Old German word meaning springtime. If we truly want to blossom in our relationship with God this Lent, we first have to acknowledge the things that are holding us back.

Even a spiritual giant such as St. Paul recognized the importance of acknowledging his weaknesses before God. As he proclaimed to the Corinthians, “when I am weak, then I am strong” [2 Corinthians 12:10]. As we prepare for our annual season of growth in the middle of this vexingly difficult pandemic, may we be as honest, as vulnerable, and as authentic with God as we can possibly be. [Point to crucifix.] For God promises to be with us in our weaknesses. And it is in acknowledging our weaknesses, that God will strengthen us.