Saint Agnes
21 January 2026
Faith stronger than fear
Today’s readings place before us a striking contrast between strength as the world defines it
and strength as God reveals it.
In the first reading,
David steps forward to face Goliath.
On paper, this makes no sense.
David is young, untested, and unarmed in the way warriors expect.
Saul immediately points this out:
David is not equipped for this fight.
He does not look like a savior.
He does not match the problem in front of him.
But David is not measuring the situation the same way Saul is.
David’s confidence does not come from himself.
It comes from memory.
He remembers how God was faithful when he was alone with the sheep.
He remembers deliverance that happened quietly,
far from any battlefield.
And so when he looks at Goliath,
he does not see a giant
—he sees a challenge already placed within the reach of God.
That difference in vision is everything.
David refuses Saul’s armor.
He chooses instead what he knows,
what fits,
what allows him to act with trust rather than fear.
The tools are simple.
The outcome is decisive.
And the victory belongs not to human strength,
but to the Lord who saves.
The Gospel shows us a similar clash,
but this time the battlefield is a synagogue.
Jesus encounters a man with a withered hand.
The Pharisees are watching carefully
—not to see whether the man will be healed,
but to see whether Jesus will break the rules.
They are concerned with correctness,
not compassion.
They value control more than life.
Jesus exposes the problem with a single question:
Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath or to do evil?
To save life or to destroy it?
No one answers.
Their silence is revealing.
It shows hearts that have become rigid,
unable to rejoice when God acts.
Instead of marveling at restoration,
they harden themselves against it.
And when Jesus heals the man,
the response is not joy—but plotting.
Both readings show us what happens when fear governs the heart.
Saul fears appearing weak.
The Pharisees fear losing authority.
Both cling to systems that feel safe.
David and Jesus, on the other hand,
trust God enough to act freely.
And today the Church places the memorial of Saint Agnes alongside these readings quite apropos.
Agnes was young.
She had no political power,
no physical strength,
no social leverage.
By every worldly measure, she was vulnerable.
And yet she stood firm.
She refused to surrender her faith,
even when it cost her everything.
Like David,
she trusted that God’s strength was enough.
Like the healed man in the Gospel,
she allowed God to act in her life without compromise.
And unlike the Pharisees,
she did not let fear harden her heart.
Her witness reminds us that constancy in faith
does not require dominance
—it requires trust.
The next few days,
the Church will continue to show us how God works through what appears small, overlooked, or weak.
Not because God enjoys surprises,
but because His power is revealed most clearly when it is not confused with our own.
The question placed before us today is simple but searching:
Where do we rely on what looks strong,
rather than on God who saves?
Do we armor ourselves with habits, arguments, or control
—or do we step forward with trust?
God’s victories rarely look impressive at first.
They begin in quiet courage,
faithful memory,
and hearts willing to act without fear.
David picked up five smooth stones.
Agnes offered her life.
Jesus stretched out His hand.
And God did the rest.