31 July 2011 - 18th Sunday in Ord Time [Cycle A]

July 31, 2011 - Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 - Is 55:1-3
Thus says the LORD: All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money,
come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk!
Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what fails to satisfy?

Heed me, and you shall eat well, you shall delight in rich fare. Come to me heedfully, listen, that you may have life. I will renew with you the everlasting covenant, the benefits assured to David.

Responsorial Psalm - Ps 145:8-9, 15-16, 17-18

R. (cf. 16) The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and of great kindness.
The LORD is good to all and compassionate toward all his works.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
The eyes of all look hopefully to you, and you give them their food in due season;
you open your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.
The LORD is just in all his ways and holy in all his works.
The LORD is near to all who call upon him, to all who call upon him in truth.
R. The hand of the Lord feeds us; he answers all our needs.

Reading II - Rom 8:35, 37-39

Brothers and sisters: What will separate us from the love of Christ? Will anguish, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or the sword? No, in all these things we conquer overwhelmingly through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Gospel - Mt 14:13-21

When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns.
When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages
and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away;
give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me, ” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass.

Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over—twelve wicker baskets full. Those who ate were about five thousand men, not counting women and children.

Reflection

The most prominent theme of today’s Gospel passage concerns the feeding of the multitudes, and how this miracle serves as a palpable metaphor for the manner in which God “feeds” His people and provides for their needs. The insight is straightforward and worth taking to heart—if we come to be in the presence of Jesus, we will be fed. Simply by showing up, our welfare is guaranteed. We would do well to integrate this message into our daily life, trusting that God cares for us and asks nothing in return, as the prophet Isaiah declares.

And yet there is another very significant subtext taking place in today’s selection from Matthew; one so subtle as to be easily overlooked. So familiarized with the imagery of Jesus multiplying fish and loaves, we may quite naturally skip right past the opening lines of the Gospel—Jesus receiving news of his close relative’s death.

In contemporary America, the relationship between cousins varies immensely. Some families live miles, even plane-flights apart, seeing one another only every few years for a major family event or gathering. Others grow up close by, forging deep and intimate bonds from their earliest years, feeling a sense of kinship so close it is as though they are siblings. This latter dynamic, in which first cousins are very nearly brothers/sisters by virtue of proximity and intimacy, is more apt to describing the way in which most tribal societies are organized.

Jesus almost certainly grew up playing with his cousin John, and the two undoubtedly felt an intense, fraternal love for one another. This childhood bond was most likely strengthened by their shared ministry—John saw his own vocation not to become, himself, the focus of his work, but to prepare the way for Jesus. In the Synoptic Gospels, it appears too that the disciples of Jesus are personally acquainted with John and his ministry, so it stands to reason that Jesus and John, though they be preaching in different parts of the region at any given moment, kept in close touch.

With this in mind, we return to the first line of the Gospel, wherein Jesus is said to have “withdrawn in a boat to a deserted place by himself.” So powerfully affected by news of the death of his close friend was Jesus, that he paused his own ministry and disappeared for a while to grieve by himself. In the Gospel of John, we see Jesus weep—really, a better translation would be “convulses uncontrollably”—at the tomb of Lazarus. He is so overcome with sadness that his body literally trembles and groans. While there may have been a crowd to witness him break down over Lazarus, in this instance, he went off by himself. There is every reason to believe that, in the privacy of his escape, he mourned with equal vigor and emotion. Jesus—God Himself—was every bit as overwhelmed by the loss of a loved one as we are. To say that Jesus, the Second of the Person of the Trinity, was really human is to make an abstract assertion. To attest that he found himself weak at the knees, sick to his stomach, and flush in the face upon learning that his dear friend had died—is to concretize that abstraction. Jesus, true God and true man, wept. And, more importantly, he was so potently affected, he needed to take time off from what he was doing in order to deal with those powerful emotions.

This is no trivial matter, particularly not for us, contemporary disciples, as we struggle to find peace amid similar circumstances. How do we respond when a parent dies? Or, a close friend? John and Jesus were less than a year apart, and they worked “in the same field.” How shaken would we be if a close friend, our own age, not even in his/her mid-30’s yet, were taken too soon, much less killed violently as was John?

This Gospel speaks to us in our pain and our vulnerability. It affirms for us the need to take time away from our usual routine to deal with the suffering that a death brings about. There is nothing inherently noble nor Christ-like about repressing this sort of pain and pushing through our mundane tasks. God Himself felt pain, and God Himself took time off from work to try and re-group before he attempted a return.

Eventually, Jesus did return, his cheeks still stained with dried tears and his body fatigued from the emotional enervation of all-consuming mourning. Eventually, he went back to work. Not only can Almighty God, Creator of the Universe and Sustainer of All That Is, empathize with us in our pain, He can relate to us in what it feels like to have to go back to work, drained from the experience of a death. Muscles tired. Eyelids sore. Emotions bled of their vitality. All that, and Jesus manages to be moved by pity at the crowds who need him. With the help of his colleagues, the disciples, and with grace from God, who is Father, Jesus comes up with the energy to minister to the people.

The point of the Incarnation, of God become human, is that we might relate better to God. That we might be able to come to God in our moments of unmitigated agony, as well as unbridled joy. That we can know there is a person who understands the true depths of our heart and sits beside us throughout, embracing us and giving us strength. The Jesus of today’s Gospel is precisely that person, and we are invited into a real friendship with him. If ever we find ourselves struggling to cope with the death of a loved one, desperately wondering how we will ever return to work on Monday, we should feel some solace knowing that God himself has some experience in that department.

Questions for Reflection

1) Have you ever lost a loved one? How did it feel? What sorts of emotions did you experience? Anger? Sadness? Outrage? Disbelief? How did you deal with them?

2) What sorts of support have you had during moments of intense suffering in your life? What sustains you during these times? What sorts of supports do you have right now? If they are not what you would like them to be, how can you make them a reality?

3) Do you feel comfortable going to God when you are in this sort of pain? Why/not?

24 July 2011 - PART TWO

Last week, I accidentally posted this Sunday's readings, but I focused on the first reading (about Solomon), so this week, I'm delving into the Gospel. Sorry for the mixup!

July 24, 2011 - Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 - 1 Kgs 3:5, 7-12
The LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream at night. God said, “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.” Solomon answered: “O LORD, my God, you have made me, your servant, king to succeed my father David; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act. I serve you in the midst of the people whom you have chosen, a people so vast that it cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong. For who is able to govern this vast people of yours?”

The LORD was pleased that Solomon made this request. So God said to him: “Because you have asked for this—not for a long life for yourself, nor for riches, nor for the life of your enemies, but for understanding so that you may know what is right—I do as you requested. I give you a heart so wise and understanding that there has never been anyone like you up to now, and after you there will come no one to equal you.”

Responsorial Psalm - 119:57, 72, 76-77, 127-128, 129-130
R. (97a) Lord, I love your commands.
I have said, O LORD, that my part is to keep your words.
The law of your mouth is to me more precious than thousands of gold and silver pieces.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
Let your kindness comfort me according to your promise to your servants.
Let your compassion come to me that I may live, for your law is my delight.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
For I love your command more than gold, however fine.
For in all your precepts I go forward; every false way I hate.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
Wonderful are your decrees; therefore I observe them.
The revelation of your words sheds light, giving understanding to the simple.
R. Lord, I love your commands.

Reading II - Rom 8:28-30
Brothers and sisters: We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined he also called; and those he called he also justified; and those he justified he also glorified.



Gospel - Mt 13:44-52
Jesus said to his disciples: “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price, he goes and sells all that he has and buys it. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net thrown into the sea, which collects fish of every kind. When it is full they haul it ashore and sit down to put what is good into buckets. What is bad they throw away. Thus it will be at the end of the age. The angels will go out and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. Do you understand all these things?”

They answered, “Yes.” And he replied, “Then every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.”

Reflection
Sportswear manufacturer Adidas’ current US campaign is entitled, “All in.” The US website features video of NBA MVP Derrick Rose and FIFA World Player of the Year Leo Messi, among others, competing in their respective sports and producing visual evidence that both are “All in.”

The term, “All in,” comes from poker, and it means to wager one’s entire stake on a single hand. It is to hold nothing back, not even one chip. When Adidas conscripts the term for use with athletes, the company means to indicate that, in order to be named the best soccer player in the world, or the most valuable player in the NBA, one must do the same--hold nothing back. It’s an absolute proposition: all or nothing. No reservations, no qualifications. It’s committing every fiber of one’s being, every single day, without fail and without limit.

But it’s a gamble. What if Rose breaks an ankle or Messi tears an ACL? What if a teammate misses free throws or shanks a penalty kick? It doesn’t matter, they’d almost certainly reply. The pursuit of a championship is worth the risk, and it’s unquestionably worth the sacrifice. For elite athletes like Derrick Rose or Leo Messi or Michael Phelps or Abby Wambach, the ultimate goal is the title of “World’s Best.” For them, this is the pearl of great price, the treasure buried in a field. For a flautist, it might be the first chair of the Boston Symphony. For a physicist, it might be a Nobel Prize. For an author, a Pulitzer; for a young lawyer, making partner. The single unifying characteristic of all these individuals is a willingness to dedicate ALL of oneself to the process.

This sort of absolute commitment, an all-or-nothing investment of oneself, is an exceedingly rare and difficult accomplishment. It’s why we laud these individuals with so much praise, why we give them awards and write biographies of their lives. Particularly for a generation that is constantly multi-tasking--we almost never commit ourselves undistractedly to a single task--the notion of focusing exclusively on ONE pursuit probably strikes us as downright abnormal. (As it ought to... if everyone on earth were working in a particle accelerator for 16 hours a day smashing subatomic particles into one another; or training six hours a day for an Olympic sport; or perfecting any other art... there would be no one to keep track of medical records at the hospital, coach little league after work, or take out the garbage around the house.) In short, we may not be, as Adidas exhorts us, “All in” for running a marathon or carrying out research in a lab (although it can probably feel that way at times), but there is one thing we should be “All in” for, the pearl of great price, the treasure buried in the field, the Nobel Prize, the MVP: The Kingdom of Heaven. The Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus says, is something that, once you recognize it and understand what it is, you should be willing to “sell all you own” in order to attain it. To be “All in.” So how do we go about doing that?

A 5-step process for acquiring the “pearl”:

(1) Recognition: We must be attentive, so that when we encounter this “pearl,” we recognize it for what it is. It would be easy to get caught up in the busy-ness of our daily routine, and to fail to identify the pearl for how valuable it truly is. To pass over it, because we’re too focused on all the tasks we have to do. As great as a research grant from NIH or an audition with a professional symphony might be, they are not the pearl--the whole-self flourishing that constitutes the Kingdom of Heaven is.

(2) Taking the risk/Trusting in Jesus: Once we do recognize the “pearl,” we have to be willing to take a risk on it. This is where faith comes in; faith, in a sense, is a gamble. There is no guarantee (at least not in the sense we are used to asking for one), but only the promise of Jesus that the reward really WILL be worth the risk.

(3) Creating a plan: The pearl doesn’t just land in our hands; the man in the parable has to create a plan to sell what he owns in order to procure it. The Kingdom doesn’t just happen; we can’t just say, “I want that for myself.” We have to take concrete steps to make it a reality in our own life. It’s not enough to say, “I would like to have a deeper relationship with God”--we have to take action. We have to get a spiritual director, join a Bible study, sign up for a service project.

(4) Making sacrifices: The pearl costs the man ALL that he owns--he must go ALL IN. There is no way to shortcut the process of attaining something of great value, like an NBA title or Nobel Prize, and the Kingdom of Heaven is no different. It will require enormous personal sacrifice, but we are called to trust in Jesus’ promise that it will be worth it.

(5) Enjoy the reward: The Kingdom of Heaven is, in Catholic understanding, both “already” and “not yet.” That is, in a very real sense, when we decide to live as disciples of Christ and to build a community of mutual love and support here on earth, we are living out the Kingdom. And yet, in another sense, we will not experience the fullness of the Kingdom until we join God in eternity.

The bottom line is that this level of commitment--absolute and unwavering--is not only uncommon, it’s impossible on our own. It’s why Michael Phelps came to train with other world-class swimmers at the University of Michigan during his lead-up to the Olympics, and it’s why top-tier researchers cluster at universities and think tanks. We can’t do it on our own; only with the support of a community can we hope to continue to push ourselves daily towards this goal. In our case, it’s not a team or department, but a community we call Church. It’s simply too overwhelming to try and live a perfectly Christ-like life, treating every single person we meet, from the homeless panhandler outside a sandwich shop to the guy we went on a few dates with that turned out to be a real jerk, as Christ would treat that person. But it’s easier to do when we come together each week to vent our frustrations and share our joys; to lament our failures and celebrate our accomplishments; to acknowledge before God and one another that we’re all still very much works in progress.

The point of Church is that it’s a whole lot easier to go “All in” around a bunch of other people who have made that same commitment, than it is to be out there in the world trying to do it alone. Pushing each other to keep that commitment.

And, on top of all that, we are promised help in the form of the Holy Spirit, who guides us, sustains us, and imbues us with graces we couldn’t achieve on our own power. No athlete could train for a title without accepting outside sustenance in the form of energy drinks and proper nourishment. We, who are attempting to go “All in” as followers of Christ need the same sort of external nourishment, and so to drink of the Holy Spirit, to be hydrated and reinvigorated by the grace of God, which counteracts our fatigue and gives us the energy to move forward.

The Kingdom of Heaven may be likened to a pearl of great price, or to a world championship. It demands that we go, “All in.”

Questions for Reflection:

1) What sorts of things do you currently invest a great deal of energy in? Professional success? Athletic or artistic achievement? Human relationships? What sorts of sacrifices do you have to make for them? Is the reward worth the sacrifice?
2) Do you struggle to go “All in” with commitments? Do you ever hold yourself back, whether in a relationship or a job or training for something? Why do you hold back? What sorts of things prevent you from going all in?
3) What does the Kingdom of Heaven look like, to you? How do you attempt to attain it in your daily life? Do you trust Jesus that it’s worth the sacrifice? What sorts of sacrifices might be required?

24 July 2011 - 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time [Cycle A]

July 24, 2011 - Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 - 1 Kgs 3:5, 7-12
The LORD appeared to Solomon in a dream at night. God said, “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.” Solomon answered: “O LORD, my God, you have made me, your servant, king to succeed my father David; but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act. I serve you in the midst of the people whom you have chosen, a people so vast that it cannot be numbered or counted. Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong. For who is able to govern this vast people of yours?”

The LORD was pleased that Solomon made this request. So God said to him: “Because you have asked for this—not for a long life for yourself, nor for riches, nor for the life of your enemies, but for understanding so that you may know what is right—I do as you requested. I give you a heart so wise and understanding that there has never been anyone like you up to now, and after you there will come no one to equal you.”

Responsorial Psalm - 119:57, 72, 76-77, 127-128, 129-130
R. (97a) Lord, I love your commands.
I have said, O LORD, that my part is to keep your words.
The law of your mouth is to me more precious than thousands of gold and silver pieces.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
Let your kindness comfort me according to your promise to your servants.
Let your compassion come to me that I may live, for your law is my delight.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
For I love your command more than gold, however fine.
For in all your precepts I go forward; every false way I hate.
R. Lord, I love your commands.
Wonderful are your decrees; therefore I observe them.
The revelation of your words sheds light, giving understanding to the simple.
R. Lord, I love your commands.

Reading II - Rom 8:28-30
Brothers and sisters: We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. For those he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, so that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. And those he predestined he also called; and those he called he also justified; and those he justified he also glorified.

Gospel - Mt 13:44-52
Jesus said to his disciples: “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure buried in a field, which a person finds and hides again, and out of joy goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant searching for fine pearls. When he finds a pearl of great price,
he goes and sells all that he has and buys it. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net thrown into the sea, which collects fish of every kind. When it is full they haul it ashore and sit down to put what is good into buckets. What is bad they throw away. Thus it will be at the end of the age. The angels will go out and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. Do you understand all these things?”

They answered, “Yes.” And he replied, “Then every scribe who has been instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the head of a household who brings from his storeroom both the new and the old.”

Reflection
King Solomon is a case study in prayer. The first reading depicts him in the midst of a timeless human fantasy—being granted one wish by an all-powerful being. There’s a reason that the story of Aladdin and his magic lamp possess cross-cultural appeal—it’s a universal experience of the human condition, bound as we are by finite resources and limited opportunities, to sit and think about what we would ask for, were we ever presented with such an opportunity.

When we were young, most of us likely responded with seemingly unattainable luxury items (“a Ferrari!”) or romantic targets (perhaps a famous movie star, or a crush from our middle school classes). As we got older, still continuing to entertain the hypothetical—“What would you wish for?” we most likely turned our attention to more “adult” considerations like getting into grad school; obtaining the job of our dreams; or meeting the person of our dreams, getting married, and having a happy family. Or, if we have faced some particular personal crisis or situational adversity, we may have thought we would ask, for instance, that a loved one’s cancer go into remission, or a sibling return from an overseas deployment, or that we would not lose our job in the next round of layoffs. And in addition to these more serious wishes, we may even have toyed with the notion of using one of our wishes (assuming we were granted 3) on securing a national championship or league title for our favorite sports franchise.

But God is not a genie, and prayer does not work like rubbing a lamp. All too often, people will express their frustration with God, complaining that, “God doesn’t seem to answer my prayers.” If ever they are asked to expound on that assertion, usually they indict God on a charge of more or less failing to be a genie. The unexamined premise is that, when we make the Sign of the Cross and ask God for something, an “answer” to that prayer consists of God granting our request (and in a timely manner, as determined by our sense of when things need to happen).

To understand how supplication (i.e. asking for something) ought to work, we can study Solomon’s exchange with God.
The first thing to notice is that God invites Solomon to ask God for something. Like a child who is afraid to ask a parent if we can have an extra slice of cake or stay out past our curfew, all too often we do not wish to ask God, who is “Father,” for things we want. In fact, we may even have been told at some point along the way that we SHOULD NOT ask God for things. That our prayers should be focused on praising and thanking God for all of the good things in our life, and expressing our contrition for the many times we have messed up. But, as evidenced both by Jesus in his instruction to his disciples on how to pray to God “…Give us today our daily bread…” and in today’s passage from the Book of Kings, God actively invites us to petition Him for things.

There is a reason that the congregation does not start the Prayer of the Faithful at Sunday Mass with the preamble, “We feel really bad asking you this, God, and we know that you’re really busy, but, if you could take care of the following sick people…” We don’t make any apology, and we shouldn’t feel any reluctance—like a teacher who says, “I WANT you to come to me for help if you’re having trouble,” God tells us that God truly desires that we bring our needs to God.

But all too often, we ask for the “wrong” things. Frequently, we ask for some external phenomenon, e.g. that it will be sunny on the day of a wedding, that a set of medical tests will come back negative, or that a particular fellowship committee will select us for an award. King Solomon, by contrast, does not ask for any external occurrence, but for an internal transformation. He could have requested personal riches or national security; he could have elucidated a desire to see the harvest be bountiful or the next military conquest successful. Instead, he asks that God work the change on his person.

There are numerous aphorisms that get to this point, but perhaps the most well-known is the adage, “Do not pray for challenges equal to your strength, but for strength equal to your challenges.” Solomon does not pray that God will remove any adversity from his reign; rather he asks that God will endow him with the wisdom necessary to meet that adversity and surmount it. It would be akin to us asking, not that the LSATs would be any easier or that the marathon would be any shorter, but that God would infuse us with the discipline and endurance to study for the exam and train for the race. The purpose of petitionary prayer is not to ask God to suspend the laws of the universe so that we might have it easier; but to recognize before God our weaknesses and limitations, and to ask God to help us overcome the challenges we face.

Blessed Mother Teresa was famed to have said, “I know that the Lord won’t give me anything I can’t handle; I just wish he didn’t trust me so much.” Mother Teresa, a modern exemplar of virtue on par with the prophets of the Old Testament and saints throughout history, frequently cited her dependence on God to accomplish the mission she was tasked to do. She did not ask God to eliminate the affliction of leprosy, nor did she request that it be someone else’s job to do something about it—instead, she petitioned that God imbue her with the strength to live out her vocation.

As we go about facing the myriad challenges of everyday living—helplessness as a loved one battles cancer; anxiety over the inability to find a job; fatigue from many months with no real success on the dating scene—we ought to keep in mind that, like Solomon, we are invited by God to ask for help. And, as we begin to formulate our request, we might think to ourselves, “In this situation, what would Solomon ask for?” More than likely, we will find ourselves recognizing that Solomon would not ask for an amazing guy/girl to drop into our lap, but for patience in the interim and confidence with respect to our self-worth, irrespective of our romantic status. Strength equal to our challenges, rather than challenges equal to our strength. In the coming week, as we prepare to talk to God in prayer, we might think of those little WWJD bracelets that were popular a few years back and say, “What would Solomon ask?”

Questions for Reflection

1) Solomon was tasked with the governance of his country, and so he asked for wisdom. What are you currently tasked with (being in charge of a project; dating someone; looking for a job), and what sorts of virtues might be helpful as you face the challenges that inevitably will be a part of these things?
2) When you pray, do you ask primarily for things for yourself or others? Do you ever feel “guilty” asking for things for yourself? If so, why? What sorts of things do you ask for?
3) Is it your experience that God “answers your prayers?” If not, what have you hoped for that you have not received? Was there ever a time in your life when you asked for things of God the way someone might ask of a magic genie?
4) What one specific request will you take to prayer with you this week?

10 July 2011 - 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time [Cycle A]

July 10, 2011 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Reading 1 - Is 55:10-11
Thus says the LORD: Just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, giving seed to the one who sows and bread to the one who eats, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth;
my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.

Responsorial Psalm - 65:10, 11, 12-13, 14
R. (Lk 8:8) The seed that falls on good ground will yield a fruitful harvest.
You have visited the land and watered it; greatly have you enriched it.
God’s watercourses are filled; you have prepared the grain.
R. The seed that falls on good ground will yield a fruitful harvest.
Thus have you prepared the land: drenching its furrows, breaking up its clods,
Softening it with showers, blessing its yield.
R. The seed that falls on good ground will yield a fruitful harvest.
You have crowned the year with your bounty, and your paths overflow with a rich harvest;
The untilled meadows overflow with it, and rejoicing clothes the hills.
R. The seed that falls on good ground will yield a fruitful harvest.
The fields are garmented with flocks and the valleys blanketed with grain.
They shout and sing for joy.
R. The seed that falls on good ground will yield a fruitful harvest.

Reading II - Rom 8:18-23
Brothers and sisters: I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us. For creation awaits with eager expectation the revelation of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who subjected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slavery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now; and not only that, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, we also groan within ourselves as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.

Gospel - Mt 13:1-23
On that day, Jesus went out of the house and sat down by the sea. Such large crowds gathered around him that he got into a boat and sat down, and the whole crowd stood along the shore.
And he spoke to them at length in parables, saying: “A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path,and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep, and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered for lack of roots.

Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on rich soil, and produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold. Whoever has ears ought to hear.”

The disciples approached him and said, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” He said to them in reply, “Because knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven has been granted to you, but to them it has not been granted. To anyone who has, more will be given and he will grow rich; from anyone who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is why I speak to them in parables, because they look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.
Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled in them, which says:

You shall indeed hear but not understand, you shall indeed look but never see. Gross is the heart of this people, they will hardly hear with their ears, they have closed their eyes, lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears and understand with their hearts and be converted, and I heal them.

“But blessed are your eyes, because they see, and your ears, because they hear. Amen, I say to you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it, and to hear what you hear but did not hear it. Hear then the parable of the sower. The seed sown on the path is the one who hears the word of the kingdom without understanding it, and the evil one comes and steals away what was sown in his heart. The seed sown on rocky ground is the one who hears the word and receives it at once with joy. But he has no root and lasts only for a time. When some tribulation or persecution comes because of the word, he immediately falls away. The seed sown among thorns is the one who hears the word, but then worldly anxiety and the lure of riches choke the word and it bears no fruit. But the seed sown on rich soil is the one who hears the word and understands it, who indeed bears fruit and yields a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.”

Reflection
The Parable of the Sower is a story so densely packed with theological truth that an entire volume of scholarship could easily be devoted to its exegesis. And yet, before we explore the imagery of the parable, it’s worth pausing to comment on the genre of the story itself. Even the disciples, upon hearing Jesus words, do not delve immediately into the content, but first ask Jesus, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” Well… why does he?

Jesus was unquestionably esteemed among the greatest minds of his day. The huge crowds who came to listen to him preach attested to the fact that his words resonated with people, so much so that they were willing to put aside their daily work in order to hear his sermons. And yet, he did not speak to them in complicated terms, neither employing the sort of highfalutin philosophical language characteristic of modern academia nor relying on the type of classical logical formula that defined the Greek philosophers.
Rather, Jesus told stories; incredibly simple ones at that. Ones rife with imagery from the culture of which he was a part. We see Jesus at an early age in the synagogues of Jerusalem, explaining the Scriptures to learned scholars, which is to put him in the graduate seminars of his day, as if a 12 year old were to walk into a conference room in the Physics Department and begin sketching out a solution to unresolved questions of string theory. Incontestably, Jesus could converse with the most intelligent minds in society. And yet, when he began his public ministry, he traveled to farming towns and fishing villages along the Sea of Galilee, the “working class” corridor of ancient Palestine.

These women and men were not formally educated; most probably could not read. They would not have been able to quote Leviticus to Jesus, much less correlate a passage from Torah with a concept from Hellenistic thought. So in order to take these immensely complex and impossibly abstract ideas from Scripture and make them palpable to farmers and shepherds, Jesus constructed metaphors using items that were familiar to them from their everday lives—bushel baskets, vineyards, mustard seeds. The parable of the sower is among the most trenchant.

The parable can be read in several ways, but the first and most obvious is the one Jesus himself presents: God is the sower, we are the soil, and God’s word is the seed. We are invited to consider how, at different points in our lives, we might aptly be characterized as rocky soil—hardened on the outside and resistant to God’s word taking root. At other moments, we seem eager to receive God’s word, but then other things in our life (“weeds”) get in the way and prevent that word from continuing to grow. Too, we may well recognize instances when we truly are fertile—properly tilled and full of nutrients, prepared to integrate the energy of the sun and moisture of the rain—and because of this, we find that great fruit has grown as a result.

It is worth spending some time to consider—what sorts of atmospheric conditions, i.e. what in our lives, causes us to become rocky and hard, unyielding to the efforts of the sower? How do we become “rocky?” Too, what sorts of “weeds” do we allow to get in the way? What sorts of other priorities do we permit to take up all of our time, preventing us from absorbing the growth-inducing energy of the sun and choking away all the nutrients of the water?

But beyond the initial reading of the parable, there are multiple other ways in which to interpret these images, and innumerable insights to be gained from such an exploration. In addition to being the soil upon which the seed falls, it is possible that we are, at other times, a tool in the hands of the sower. That is, in much the same manner that St. Francis of Assisi exhorted God, “Lord make me an instrument,” we might find ourselves being put to use as an instrument of the farmer, part of the process of bringing forth fruit from the soil. The only way to break up rocky soil or eliminate weeds is to employ a hoe or rake to break up the stones and remove the unwanted roots. It is entirely possible that we find ourselves being put to use as a tool to help prepare our “fellow soil” for the seed God wishes to sow, and so in that sense, it may yield fruit to ask, “In what sense am I a tool? And what does that require of me?”
Among other things, it entails that we be used according to the wishes of the sower. A tool does not determine its own use; rather it moves in synchronicity with the motion of the sower. Too, no one single tool is effective at performing all of the tasks necessary to bring forth the harvest—many different tools go into such an undertaking. It is important to remember that no one of us can do it all—the sower has a whole shed full of tools with complementing roles, and no one is “more important” than any other. Moreover, a tool must be taken care of—must be brought in for sharpening and re-shaping when it has undergone much use. We should be able to recognize when we, from extensive use, require a break from the work and a bit of attention in the shed.

But perhaps most importantly, it is essential to point out that the tool is not the point. No one who goes to a farmer’s market and picks up fresh, ripe tomatoes and lifts them to the nostrils, drinking in the sweet aroma of the fruit thinks to herself, “I wonder whether the tool used to harvest these tomatoes had a metal handle or wood one.” Rather, the person delights in the fruit itself and thinks of all the wonderful sauces and salads she will be able to make with it. Put simply: the tool is not the point… the fruit is. The same is true of our own role. Insofar as we are used by God to bring forth fruit from the world around us, it is a testament to the skill of the sower in whose hand we are held, and to the beauty of the fruit itself.

Questions for Reflection

1) As of this very moment, what type of soil would you say you are? Have you ever felt like you were another type? If you were rocky, how did you get that way? And if you no longer feel rocky, what changed? If you have felt fertile and receptive to the seed, what did that feel like? How did you get that way? And what was the result when you were open to the actions of the sower?
2) Do you ever feel like you are being asked to be “a tool” in the hand of God so that God can bring about some effect on the soil around you? What has it felt like?
3) In your own experience, what specifically does it look like when you (or those around you) bring forth “fruit?” How is your life different? If you do not feel fertile now, how might you get there?