“Be not afraid.”

These three words, spoken by Pope John Paul II during his papal installation Mass on Oct. 22, 1978, have become synonymous with the man who was canonized 36 years later as St. Pope John Paul the Great and whose feast day we now celebrate on Oct. 22.

Shortly after his death on April 2, 2005, I appointed Pope John Paul as my heavenly team leader. This means he heads up my group of saintly intercessors that I turn to regularly for help. The team also includes St. Gianna, my dad, my mother-in-law, and a treasured priest friend who passed away in 2015. A more recent addition was a close, and holy, family friend who succumbed to cancer in 2017.

Just 15 days after John Paul died, I gave birth to my second child. Between the births of my first and second children, I had the startling revelation that I had not prayed at all during my first labour and delivery. Needless to say, it was a rather rough experience, with an even rougher post-partum, and I was shocked that I, thinking of myself as a person of faith, had failed to rely on God in my hour of need. I was so absorbed in myself and my discomfort that I allowed fear to overtake what could have been a faith-filled, though still challenging, experience. I realized things needed to be different the next go-around, so I established my team of saints and headed into my second birthing determined to pray my way through. The difference was amazing. I repeated John Paul II’s famous “be not afraid” many times that day and allowed faith to overcome fear.

I think we are desperately in need of John Paul’s antidote to fear right now. Fear is controlling so much of our lives these days. Many sources say that the term “be not afraid” occurs 365 times in the Bible – that’s once for every day of the year. It seems clear that God wants us to let go of our fears and put our trust in him. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need some reminding these days not to let fear get the better of me.

Just look around at all the masked faces. We are living in a culture of fear. St. John Paul II used to talk about a culture of death, which is still a contender for our attention these days, but the prevailing issue in these days of COVID is fear. When we cover our God-given faces every time we go into public, what are we teaching our children except to fear?

Children with masks playing in New York City.  “When we start covering the faces of innocent, healthy children, we need to start asking some serious questions about our motivation.” (CNS/Caitlin Ochs, Reuters)


We can tell ourselves that we are just “doing our part” in “lowering the curve” and “protecting the vulnerable.” But I think that deep down, it’s fear that is motivating our lockdowns and isolations. We might not even fear for our own health, but we are scared to cause someone else to become ill. 

This is not to say that reasonable precautions shouldn’t be taken, but when we start covering the faces of innocent, healthy children, we need to start asking some serious questions about our motivation. After all, we are covering up God’s most precious creation, the people he made in his image and likeness.

Let’s face it, the majority of the people who are making the rules for this pandemic are not coming from a place of faith. They are coming from a place of fear. They are afraid of public backlash if cases rise. They are afraid the medical system can’t handle the load of many COVID cases (which it can’t, so it needs to be fixed). They are afraid of the mortality of their loved ones and themselves.

It may sound nostalgic, and though I can’t presume to know how Pope John Paul II would have reacted to a global pandemic, I can almost hear his Polish-accented voice saying, “Be not afraid!” His words should be a balm to our souls at this difficult time. For, indeed, if “our help is in the Lord, who made Heaven and earth” (Ps 124:8), what do we have to fear?

I can picture JPII’s face, radiating Christ’s love and warmth with his twinkling eyes and engaging smile. I personally can recall the look of pure love and worship on his features as he adored Christ in the Eucharist. He was kneeling before a monstrance, perched on the back of the popemobile, riding through the streets of Rome. He was leading a eucharistic procession for the feast of Corpus Christi. I was 21 years old at the time, and seeing that face express such adoration and profound worship of our Lord made a huge impact on my faith. I will never forget that face, that incredible witness of love.

Faces are so important to us as humans, integral to our expressions of faith, who we are as God’s creatures. We need each other’s faces. We connect through faces. Not being able to see our neighbour’s face can fill us with anxiety and fear.

Pope John Paul II was all about the importance of human interaction, affection, and building relationships. He travelled tirelessly to reach Catholics throughout the world who had never experienced the joy of a visit from their Pope. He extended his arms physically and spiritually to young people, families, and the elderly and invited back into the fold any of the flock who had strayed. Though – or perhaps because – he had personally witnessed the devastating effects of communism and Nazism, he never let fear hold him back from bringing the presence of Christ to the world. Neither should we let fear overwhelm our faith.

Don’t let Oct. 22 go by without taking some time to think and pray about this modern-day saint’s message to “Be not afraid!” Maybe cook up a supper of kielbasa and pierogies to celebrate Pope John Paul’s Polish heritage. More importantly, don’t forget to share his face. Anywhere you don’t have to wear a mask, be sure to give a meaningful, Christ-filled smile to your kids, family members, co-workers. They need it in this fear-filled world.

Lazzuri writes from her home in Nova Scotia, where she lives with her husband, six children, and her mom. She can be reached at [email protected].