Archive for February, 2026

He Is Only Asleep — Funeral Homily for William “Bill” Sarauer, 82

February 28, 2026

By Fr. Victor Feltes

One spring afternoon many years ago, Bill took a nap. Bill always took an afternoon nap and he took this particular nap seated inside of his truck. He was quietly parked at the end of the farm’s driveway as he waited alongside the country road for people to show up. That’s when he felt like, as he would say, “just resting my eyes.” Around a quarter to four, his granddaughter Amanda arrived home from school. Seeing him inside, she knocked on the truck window and kept knocking, at least three different times, but grandpa didn’t move. So Amanda not-unreasonably concluded: “He’s dead.” A call was placed to 9-1-1 and an ambulance was summoned, but before the medics could arrive on scene the truck door was opened from outside and a startled, groggy Bill nearly tumbled out. Bill was not dead. He was only sleeping.

Jesus once remarked the same thing about a 12-year-old girl. The daughter of Jairus had just died from an illness, but when Jesus arrived at the house he said the mourners, “Why all this commotion and weeping? Go, for the child is not dead but sleeping.” They mocked Jesus because they knew she was dead, but once he had them put outside he took the dead girl’s hand and said, “Talitha koum,” which means, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” The girl rose up immediately and Jesus gave her to her amazed parents.

On a different occasion, Jesus received word that his friend Lazarus was gravely ill, but Jesus stayed put for a couple of days. Then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea. … Our friend Lazarus is asleep, but I am going to awaken him.” So the disciples replied, “Master, if he is asleep, he will be saved!” But Jesus was referring to death while they thought he meant ordinary sleep, so Jesus told them clearly: “Lazarus has died. And I am glad for you that I was not there that you may believe. Let us go to him.” When Jesus arrived at Lazarus’ tomb, where he had been dead four days, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And the dead man shuffled out resurrected, still wrapped in his burial cloths.

Likening death to natural sleep was not original to Jesus in the Gospels. The Prophet Daniel, for instance, foretold that “many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake. Some shall live forever, [while] others shall be an everlasting horror and disgrace.” And the 1st Book of Kings records how King David, author of our 23rd Psalm, “rested/slept with his ancestors and was buried in [Jerusalem].” The Book of Acts narrates the death of Stephen the Martyr by saying “he fell asleep,” and the New Testament epistles frequently use “falling asleep” as an image for dying. For example, St. Paul reassures the Thessalonians: “We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose, so too will God, through Jesus, bring with him those who have fallen asleep.

Why do the Inspired Scriptures and Jesus Christ use falling asleep as an image for death? Because our death is only temporary. Under ordinary circumstances, we do not fear to go to sleep at night because we reawaken every the morning. We are not terrified to take a nap because we soon wake again, hopefully, renewed. Dying is like falling asleep because natural death is not the end for us. We are promised resurrection.

Jesus tells us a parable about ten virgins. As they await the arrival of a long-delayed Bridegroom, they all become drowsy and fall asleep. Then at midnight, the darkest hour, a cry goes out that awakens them all: “Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!” Five are wise and have oil ready for their lamps but five are foolish and have not prepared. While the wise ones rejoice with the Bridegroom inside his wedding feast, the foolish ones are barred outside. This Bridegroom is Jesus, who warns us to be prepared for his return, “for you know neither the day nor the hour.

Bill’s family describes him as “an amazing husband” of almost sixty years and “a perfect dad.” “He was selfless, hardworking, and steady,” a “good and faithful servant.” A man of Catholic faith and prayer; not one to complain but to instead pray harder. And Bill was well-prepared to die. Daily near the end he said so. “I’m ready to go home.” Pray for Bill’s soul—to aid him wherever needed—but please also learn from his example.

Unless Christ the Bridegroom returns first, each of us is going to die. But before we fall asleep, the wise among us will prepare to meet our Lord. Practicing proper devotion toward God and our neighbors reflects us tending to the oil of our faith and flame of our love. Prioritize this care of your lamp, so that when Jesus Christ appears you will be ready and eager to greet him. Bill has died, but he is only sleeping. And one day we will reawaken with him to the Resurrection. So tend to your life’s precious lamp, the oil of your faith and the flame of your love, so that when Jesus Christ the Bridegroom comes, we may all greet each other with joy.

Let His Will Be Done

February 21, 2026

1st Sunday of Lent
By Fr. Victor Feltes

When people in Confession confess failing to trust God, I note that humanity has struggled with this since the beginning. In the Garden of Eden, the demonic serpent suggested that Adam and Eve shouldn’t trust God. The Lord God had warned and forbidden them from eating from one particular tree, but they saw that “the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom.” The woman and man thought they had a better plan than God, so they grasped at and ate the fruit from that tree. Great evils and painful regrets followed. St. Paul writes how “through one man sin entered the world, and through sin, death.” Yet “just as through the disobedience of the [first Adam] the many were made sinners, so through the obedience of the [new Adam] the many will be made righteous.” Because of the Fall in the Garden, Jesus Christ endures the devil’s temptations in a desert.

Satan hopes to divert the Messiah away from God’s plan to another path. Jesus was very hungry, so the devil said, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” But the miracles of bread the Father wished Jesus to perform were not just for himself or for an earthly life of ease. Jesus refuses to turn stones into food, but he would go on to change bread into his Flesh for the eternal life of the world. Then the devil took Jesus to Jerusalem, tempting him to choose a trial at the temple free of suffering and death, saying, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, (for God will protect you).” But human redemption would not come without Christ’s Sacrifice. Finally, the devil took Jesus to a mountain top and showed him the world’s magnificent kingdoms, promising, “All these I shall give to you, if you will prostrate yourself and worship me.” But Jesus absolutely rebukes him and rejects his invitation to compromise with evil. Jesus Christ would inaugurate his reign as King of the Universe upon the throne of the Cross.

Jesus achieves God’s purposes for his life and enters into his glory because he entrusts himself to the will of his Heavenly Father. At the beginning of this Lenten season, consider where you cling to your own ways, grasping at hoped-for happiness, against the will of God who wishes for your greatest good and happiness. If you don’t know already where you are resisting God, with your time, your money, your pleasures, your relationships, or your devotions, the Holy Spirit can show you, if you let him. You do not have to change your ways all by yourself, for Jesus Christ is near at hand to help you, but he waits for your permission. The first woman and man thought they had a better plan than God, and were left filled with regrets. Let our Lord accompany and strengthen you against temptation, so that you may share in his triumphant glory.

Snowball Effects

February 15, 2026

6th Sunday of Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Once upon a time, a man lived in a cabin on a snowy mountain slope. He liked to go hiking and would climb up to the peak every week. He would rest on the mountain top and take in the sights. He also liked to make snowballs and toss them down the slope, watching them grow bigger and bigger as they rolled. But upon returning to his cabin he would always find it buried in snow and say to himself: “Oh my, golly gee, why does this keep happening to me?” Time and again, he had to shovel out his front door and windows, and though the sun helped melt the snow, it was still a lot of work. And he realized if this pattern continued, his house might be destroyed. So he brought his problem to prayer and the Lord gave him insight.

“Your snowballs are causing the avalanches.”

— “Lord, does this mean that I have to live someplace else?”

“No.”


— “Does this mean I have to stop climbing the mountain?”


“Not necessarily. Just stop tossing snowballs down the slopes.”


— “Okay Lord, but I worry that if I go up there I won’t be able to resist the temptation.”


“Then perhaps go hiking elsewhere.”

This story is a parable about us and our sins. When people lament to me in Confession about repeatedly confessing the same sins, I encourage them: “Thank goodness it’s not random sins every time — the sin of gossip one week and then arson the next — that would be hopeless!” For better or worse, we are creatures of habit. The good thing about this is that we can examine ourselves, understand our patterns of sin, and act to change our sinful habits. And Jesus tells us that turning away from sin is extremely important:

“If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your members than to have your whole body thrown into Gehenna. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your members than to have your whole body go into Gehenna.”

But does Jesus really want for us to gouge out our eyes and cut off our hands? If your eye really were the cause of your sin, you should pluck it out; but your eye is not really the cause of your sin, any more than the mountain hiker’s cabin was causing the avalanche problem. Yet if sin is so gravely serious that Jesus teaches that (in theory) even body parts should be sacrificed to avoid it, how much more should lesser things which cause us to sin be discarded and left behind?

The season of Lent begins this Wednesday. What are your sins and what patterns do you see in them? In what ways do you toss snowballs down your mountain? Let your answers guide your goals with our Lord this Lent.