Jairus, the synagogue official, has just received the worst news that a loving parent can ever receive: "Your daughter has died."  With those four words, his hope disappears like a puff of smoke in a windstorm.  The fear of what life will be like without his beloved daughter, the emptiness, the anguish - these sentiments clink into place all around him like the gates of a prison.
In that moment, probably the lowest moment of his life, Jesus looks him in the eye.  Maybe he even puts a hand on his shoulder, and then he says to him: "Do not be afraid; only have faith."
Strange words, aren't they?  The reality of loss is clear, so present, so undeniable.  Yet, Jesus tells him that faith in God's goodness can set things right.  He tells him that faith, the unseen force of the believer, is more powerful than the storms of life in a fallen world.
If we learned well this one lesson, it would revolutionize our lives.  It was faith that brought Jairus to his knees in front of Christ - and that faith raised his daughter back to life.  It was faith that propelled the woman with the hemorrhage to touch Jesus' cloak, even though doing so was a risk (by the Mosaic Law, her hemorrhage made her ritually unclean, so touching Christ would him make ritually unclean as well, exposing her to punishment), and it was faith that cured her and gave her peace, after a dozen years of extreme uncertainty and fear.
Faith, trust in God no matter what, despite appearances (Jairus's daughter, by all accounts, was already gone), in spite of the limited vision of our natural reason (the doctors had concluded that this woman's sickness was incurable).  This kind of childlike trust in God's goodness, wisdom, and power is what he longs for from us; it alone frees him to unfurl the power of his love in our lives.  As Pope Benedict put it recently, it makes us realize that we are "in stronger hands... in the hands of an omnipotence of love."
A writer from Michigan tells the true story that took place on a bay in the northern part of that Midwestern State.  The bay froze over every winter.  One time, some hunters from a different State, Illinois, were tracking a deer near an arm of the river and saw the tracks run across the ice.  Not knowing how strong or thick it was, they got down on their hands and knees to crawl over.  They thought this would distribute their weight more evenly, and there would be less chance of breaking through the ice.  Imagine their embarrassment when, as they were reaching the halfway mark, they saw a man driving a truck that was pulling a tremendous load of logs, coming across the ice from the opposite direction.  The driver of the truck was a resident of the town and knew that the winter ice on that bay was about three feet thick.  The visitors didn't know that, and so they were afraid of falling through.
Fear often comes from ignorance, and knowledge can take it away.  Faith is the supernatural knowledge that takes away every fear.  Knowing that God has prepared a place for us in his heavenly home takes away our fear of poverty and death.  Knowing that God can bring good out of evil takes away our fear of suffering and injustice.  Knowing that God's love will never abandon us takes away our fear that if we are true to our Catholic identity we will be rejected, mocked, or persecuted.  All that knowledge comes from our faith.
God himself has revealed those truths to us, so that we will be freed from the fears that hold us back from living the abundant and meaningful life that comes from following Christ courageously.
"Do not be afraid, only have faith."  Jesus is saying those same words to us today.  He knows that life in this fallen world can be like a pilgrimage through a landscape of fears.  Yet, with him, we can conquer them all. 
We are the lucky ones, because we know this.  Certainly we are not perfect - we are not yet finished conquering our fears, but we are on the right path.  Our faith in Jesus gives us the hope we need to persevere, to be joyful even during those times when the pilgrimage gets especially frightful.
What about all the people who are not here with us today?  What about our friends, neighbors, teammates, colleagues, and even family members, who are travelling through the landscape of fears alone, without Jesus?
Today, as we thank God for his gifts to us, we should pray for those who have not yet received the gift, or who have squandered it.  But we can also do more than pray.  We can reach out to those around us who, like Jairus and the woman with the hemorrhage, are suffering and in need.  Whether their suffering is physical, emotional, or psychological, we can help strengthen and heal them.  Not because we are so great, not because we have all the answers, but because Jesus Christ dwells within us.  We carry him in our hearts, as long as we are in the state of grace.  So, when we reach out to those who don't know him or have abandoned him, it is Christ himself reaching out through us.  When we allow them to have contact with our faith, we give them contact with Christ.
In a few moments, when we receive our Lord in Holy Communion, his presence within us will be intensified.  This week let's share that presence with someone who needs it.