Episode 013 - Homily | Prayer Wins The Hidden Battle (October 19, 2025)

I read something fascinating about Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister of England during the Second World War.

It said that Churchill took three years to pass the eighth grade.

Imagine that, three years.

He simply couldn't pass English of all things.

The irony, of course, is that decades later he would become one of the greatest masters of the English language, whose words would rally a frightened world.

When Churchill was invited to give the commencement address at Oxford University, people expected an eloquent, soaring oration.

Instead, he walked up to the podium, looked out at the graduates, and delivered what was probably one of the most powerful commencement speech ever given.

I'll give you more in a moment.

But I want to begin with the first reading.

Takes us back to another battlefield.

The one between the Israelites and the forces of Amalek.

At first glance, it seems like one of those Old Testament war stories.

Two armies clashing under the desert sun.

But if we listen carefully, there's a deeper drama unfolding, not just in history, but a mirror of the spiritual life itself.

Amalek, the tribal leader who rose up against God's people, becomes a symbol of everything that resists God.

Everything that tries to pull you away from God, everything that tries to distract you, that pulls you from being faithful to a path of life.

Every generation of believers, every person who seeks holiness, will at some point in their life have to face an amalek.

The Israelites were always at war.

Open the pages of Scripture, and you'll see it again and again and again.

They were always surrounded by enemies, enslaved by empires, carried off into exile, tempted to forget who they were.

We could probably say the same thing today.

The battle may look different, but it hasn't disappeared.

Amalek is alive and well in our own time.

Sometimes he comes disguised as cynicism.

Sometimes he comes disguised as apathy, resentment, or even despair.

Sometimes Amalek wears the face of a culture that laughs at our faith or calls good evil and evil good.

Sometimes Amalek will whisper in your ear, telling you that prayer doesn't really matter.

What good does it do?

That holiness is impossible.

And sometimes, if we're honest, Amalek is the voice inside of you that says, why bother?

Amalek can be the person who undercuts your integrity at work.

Amalek could be that friend who mocks your faith, or the system that tells you to keep your beliefs private because that makes people uncomfortable.

Don't talk to me about Jesus.

Amalek can even be the version of ourselves that would rather stay comfortable than to seek God and to seek a true conversion.

The greatest battlefield is not out there somewhere.

The greatest battlefield, the greatest battle that you will engage in is in your heart.

That's why this passage from Exodus is so striking.

As to the Israelites' fight, Moses stands on the hill above them with his arms raised in prayer.

As long as his hands are lifted to heaven, Israel prevails.

But when he grows weary and his hands begin to go down, Amalek starts to win.

It's such a vivid image that you can almost see it with your mind's eye.

The old prophet trembling under the weight of his own fatigue, the sun beating down, the battle raging down below them.

Then two men, Aaron and her, step up beside him.

They don't let his arms fall.

They hold them up, one on either side, so that the people of God will not lose heart.

It's probably one of the most beautiful metaphors for all of the church.

Moses represents the church at prayer, interceding, persevering, battling in ways the world cannot see behind closed doors.

He raised his arms mere his raised arms mirror that of every priest at the altar, every contemplative nun in a monastery, every mother who prays over their children, every family that gathers together to pray, every elderly person who can no longer leave the house but still whispers a rosary every morning.

Somewhere right now, someone you don't even know is praying for you, keeping your arms lifted up under an unseen battle.

Look around.

Same drama plays out every day.

In monasteries across the world, cloistered nuns lift up the church with their quiet faithfulness.

Here in our own parish hall, every Monday afternoon, parishioners gather to pray for the intentions of all of our parishioners.

In living rooms, families kneel together at night.

In hospitals and nursing homes, people who can no longer serve with their hands now serve the church by lifting up prayers.

All across the globe, from sunrise to sunset, at every single hour of the day, a holy mass is being offered on every part of this con every part of this planet.

The arms of Christ raised once more through the hands of his priest, holding back the darkness.

When Moses' arms grew tired, Aaron and her stepped in.

That's the picture of a Christian community.

A Christian community at its best.

Why?

Because none of us can do it alone.

Every priest needs people to keep his arms lifted.

Every parish needs to be faithful, to hold the line of prayer, even when you don't feel like it.

I can tell you from my from the heart, I can tell you from my own heart as your pastor, there are days when my arms feel heavy.

When the weight of responsibility or the noise of the world threatens to pull down my arms.

But it's your faith, your prayers, your perseverance that keeps my arms raised.

You may not see it, but every prayer that you whisper strengthens this parish in ways that matter eternally.

And that brings us back to Winston Churchill.

When he stood there before those Oxford graduates, he looked out over a sea of expectant faces.

He paused, and then he said three simple words.

Never give up.

He paused again, leaned forward right into the microphone, and repeated it louder.

Never, never, never give up.

The entire speech lasted less than a minute, but electrified the room.

Because those words carried the weight of truth through fire.

So I want to borrow those words and add one of my own.

Never give up praying.

Never give up lifting your heart to God no matter how tired, no matter how discouraged, no matter how long the battle seems.

When you stop praying, Amalek starts to win.

But when you pray, when you stay faithful, even with trembling hands, heaven fights for you.

The saints knew this.

Every victory of grace, every conversion, every act of kindness and forgiveness, every miracle of mercy begins not with human strength, but with hearts that are lifted up in prayers.

Because in the end, it is God who wins the battle.

Our job is simply to keep our arms raised.

So, my brothers and sisters, if you find yourself today standing on the hilltop, weary, uncertain, surrounded by amaleks all around, amaleks of doubt or of fear, remember this.

You are not alone.

You are part of a people who never stop praying.

There are Aaron and Hers all around you who are holding your arms up.

There is a church community that believes in you and a God who fights for you.

So never give up.

Never give up praying.

And one day, when the battle is over and the dust has settled, you will discover that while your arms were lifted, God was already winning.

Amen.