Pastor
~ If you have watched nature documentaries, or if you are into fishing, or if you have been to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska, you may know about the salmon run. Each year, salmon return to the place where they were born to reproduce and lay eggs so that their offspring have the best chance to survive. Every spring, countless salmon swim huge distances, sometimes hundreds up to thousands of miles, upstream to return to their birthplace. It’s not an easy journey; it’s a grueling pilgrimage as they swim against powerful currents, leaping up waterfalls, slipping past predators and climbing over any obstacles that block their way. What drives them onward is an inner summons to go home. And it’s from this inward call that their courage emerges, as they risk everything for the next generation.
The salmon run is a bit like the Christian life, because we are all journeying towards a home that is not of this world, and our call is to swim against the current of worldly culture and comfort, facing obstacles, frustrations, and even threats from powerful forces. Yet we press on, for our vocation is to love, our mission is to bear fruit, and our hope is for an eternal home. Every simple good deed, every encouraging word, forgiven insult, or visits to the lonely, are steps that take us ever closer to the life that God wants for us.
All this is what Jesus is talking about in our Gospel today. Like ‘sheep among wolves’, he sends his disciples out into a world that can be hostile. Jesus does not deny that we may face rejection, slander, or even bodily harm, but he does tell us not to fear those who can only harm the body but not the soul. Rather, he says, stand in awe of the One who created both body and soul and holds them with both power and gentleness.
And Jesus comforts us, too. Just as the Father knows the sparrows, he has counted every hair on our heads. In other words, the God who calls us upstream is not distant; he knows us intimately. When we take that to heart and really believe that God is with us, that gives us the courage and strength we need on our journey of life.
Friends, it certainly seems that we are swimming upstream, facing many obstacles on the way to the kingdom. I think of our African-American brothers and sisters on this Juneteenth weekend. Although strides have been made toward a more perfect union, many still face racism and obstacles to voting, participation in public life, and access to quality housing, education, and other opportunities.
I think of our LGBTQ brothers and sisters during this Pride month. Again, though strides have been made in society, far too many LGBTQ youth and teenagers still feel hopeless and alone, rejected by their families or their Church, thinking that self-harm or suicide is their only option.
And I think of all of us who strive to promote the Gospel of life in this culture of death, where abortion, assisted suicide, gun violence, and war seem to be accepted as easy solutions to complex issues that require compassion, understanding, discernment, and unconditional love.
Yes, it seems that we are swimming upstream, and it is exhausting and overwhelming.
Through the ages, many saints have not only faithfully travelled this challenging path; they have also encouraged others in their own journey.
In Rome, St Philip Neri was a popular confessor. One day a young man came to him, feeling crushed by shame and convinced he could never change. Philip listened, and then, smiling, he simply said, ‘Begin again’. For months this man stumbled and failed, but each time he returned to Philip’s door he found the same warm welcome and patient counsel. Slowly the man changed; eventually he became a generous servant of the poor. Philip’s repeated invitations to ‘begin again’ are like a person on a riverbank scooping up a weary salmon in their hands and setting it beyond the rocks. Followers of Jesus don’t scold a tired swimmer. No, they steady, they encourage, and help them try again.
In New York and Quebec, St. Kateri Tekakwitha lived a quiet life of faith at a time of great cultural dislocation and suffering. Every day she practiced small acts of devotion, gentle care for her people, and courageous refusal when pressured to abandon her faith. Like the salmon edging its way upstream, Kateri approached holiness in patient, ordinary steps. Her life teaches us that holiness is often the accumulation of small, faithful choices rather than one grand leap.
And in the Mediterranean, St Paul’s missionary journeys were full of storms, shipwrecks, beatings, and betrayal. He describes his life as being in perilous waters, and yet he never abandons his mission to spread the Gospel. St Paul’s willingness to endure hardships for the sake of future generations of disciples is like the salmon that dies after spawning. He reminds us that our sacrifices can bear life beyond our sight and even our lifetime.
Like St. Philip who encouraged sinners to ‘Begin again,’ like St. Kateri refusing to abandon her faith, and like St Paul enduring great hardships for the sake of the Gospel, we are all summoned to keep swimming upstream.
In his book The Everlasting Man, G. K. Chesterton writes that any old dead thing can drift with the stream, but only a living thing can swim against it.
This is why we admire the salmon so much. It fights its way against the current for only one reason: to bring life. That, ultimately, is what we are all called to do, too. So today, we hear a simple yet profound gospel message. Keep going. Persevere. Begin again. May this Eucharist give us the strength we need to keep swimming upstream toward eternal life.
