Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/082111.cfm
We are coming to the end of a summer where we have been treated by a series of remarkable Gospel Readings in which we were first treated to Jesus’ manner of teaching by a series of simple/gentle pastoral parables, then to a couple of Jesus’ best known miracle stories – the multiplication of the loaves and Jesus walking on the water. And we’re approaching an “end of the summer” decision time. In today’s Gospel Jesus asks his disciples, who would have seen and heard all of this “Who do you say that I am?”
Note though that already last week, we heard a Canaanite woman profess her faith in Jesus. So Peter’s profession of faith would not have been the first, though it would, of course, be very important.
My sense is that the Gospel writers’ (in this case Matthew) placed the Profession of Faith of the Canaanite woman before that of St. Peter’s to keep us all off balance and humble. Indeed, it is a recurrent theme throughout the Gospels that those who should have known better did not, and those who were at the edges, who no one expected anything of, or even considered worth consideration were the one’s who understood Jesus and the promise of his Gospel the best.
So the Canaanite woman, three times marginalized – a woman, a Canaanite and non-Jewish – beats the apostles to the punch in proclaiming her faith in Jesus and bestowing on him the messianic title “Son of David.”
Today we hear Jesus asking his disciples first “Who do people say that I am?” and then, more pointedly, “Who do _you_ say that I am?”
And the person who speaks up is the future St. Peter.
Now Simon Peter is an interesting choice as well. There were probably smarter Apostles (Judas is said to have “kept the books” for Jesus and the apostles). There were probably richer Apostles (James and John, the sons of Zebedee who seemed to be important as well as Matthew himself, who presents himself in this Gospel as having been a tax collector). Instead it is Simon (Peter) who speaks up.
And Jesus blesses him for this, saying that “[Simon] is Rock (Petras) and on this Rock Jesus will build his church and the gates of Hell will not prevail over it.” For this _one_ taking of initiative, taking of a risk, Jesus blesses Simon Peter, St. Peter forever. Remarkable.
Yet the Bible is full of examples where God blesses who take risks – from Abraham, who at 75 (!) God invites to leave his country and go to a land which he will show him; to Jacob, whose whole life was one of risk taking (in order to survive); to Moses, who on seeing injustice for the first time in his life (at 40) admittedly “lashed out,” suffered grievously for it (had to flee to exile in the desert, but who at 80 (!) God called back to “finish the job;” to Joshua, who was one of the only ones who Moses had sent into the Promised Land to survey it, and was not afraid to advise going to take it (the other spies that Moses had sent there came back with stories of doom. Joshua along with Caleb, the only other spy to have confidence in God, were the only two of their entire generation that God allowed to enter into the promised land); to David whose instant of bravery in taking on the chellenge of the giant Goliath, God famously rewarded; to finally Solomon who also God blessed when at a young age, Solomon, who could have asked God for anything, asked God for wisdom (so that to this day, we remember Solomon to be wise). All these are examples of God blessing those who took risks, who were _not_ “afraid.”
Indeed, those who God cursed (Adam and Eve hiding in the Garden after their first sin, the Israelites who initially _were afraid_ of entering into the Promised Land despite Joshua and Caleb’s advisement that despite the challenges they could take it even in their generation) were those who _chose_ to “be afraid.”
Indeed, Jesus repeatedly told his disciples, indeed often greeted his disciples with the admonition “be not afraid.” So noteworthy of Jesus’ style was this that we have a famous hymn now for the last 30-40 years entitled “Be Not Afraid” and Pope John Paul II (now Blessed Pope John Paul II) wrote an entire book entitled “Be Not Afraid.”
So this Sunday, having heard all that great teaching of Jesus over the past weeks, having recounted again of some Jesus’ more famous miracles and having heard in the these last two weeks of two Professions of Faith made by people in Jesus’ time – that by the Canaanite woman and now St. Peter – we’re asked to “step up”
Who do we say that Jesus is? And how can we put that faith _bravely_ into action?
Remembering that God does bless us when we do step out of ourselves and take a risk in his name.
Amen.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 - 20th Sun of OT - The challenge/gift of those who may annoy us
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/081411.cfm
It’s been a nice summer with regard to the Sunday readings this year. July had begun with three week opportunity to refect on a number of parables involving simple summertime often pastoral images – wheat, weeds, fields, treasures and pearls. Then we heard a couple of the Gospel’s great miracle stories – Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus’ walking on the sea.
This Sunday appears to form a transition, from the Miracle Readings of the previous Sundays to the readings that focus on confessions of faith. This week we hear of the Confession of Faith of the Syro-Phoenecian woman. Next week, we’ll hear St. Peter’s Confession of Faith.
Indeed, it is interesting that the Syro-Phoenecian woman’s Confession of Faith comes first (and it comes first in the Gospel of Matthew from which the Readings are taken. But then it has been a recurring theme in the Gospel that the marginalized often understand Jesus better than those who should have known better.
And the Syro-Phoenecian woman was not just martinalized but three times marginalized: First, she was a woman, and generally speaking Jewish religious leaders of the time didn’t talk to strange women. Second, she was foreign, ethnically, Syro-Pheonecian. Finally, she was of a foreign religion. She was pagan. And no good Jew talked to pagans.
Yet, this woman came to Jesus and called out “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David.”
To many, her words ought to seem familiar, even if somewhat jumbled, because they are nearly identical to the blind man Bartimaeus who by the road in Jericho had called out “Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47, cf Mt 9:27). Bartimaeus was another utterly marginalized person, being blind. And even though he was blind, he actually “saw” better than the dicriples who did not understand who Jesus was and who tried to shut him up.
In the case of the Syro-Phoenecian woman, they tried to do so as well. And remember two weeks ago just prior to the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves, they asked Jesus to send the people home. Repeatedly, the disciples (perhaps to protect their own status) tried to keep others away from “their Jesus.” And so it is here.
***
Now that the Disciples would have behaved this way is not altogether surprising. As I noted, they seemed to be very protective of their closeness to Jesus. However, this reading is somewhat problematic, not because of what the Disciples were doing. Instead the Reading is somewhat problematic because of what Matthew has Jesus himself saying.
Afterall, Jesus himself seemed rather rude to the woman.
First he ignores her. Then he tells the Syro-phoenecian woman that he came for the “lost children of Israel.” Finally he tells her that only “It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
What to make of this?
Perhaps the key here would be to understand that Matthew, writing to a Jewish-Christian was trying to portray Jesus as having been a good Jewish rabbi. Hence Matthew was trying to show his audience that Jesus really did come for the “Lost Children of Israel” first. But faced with both the needs and especially _the faith_ of some of the Gentiles, Jesus, _even if reluctantly_ reached out to them as well. It could have become a way for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian community to come to terms with the reality that the Gentile Christians were coming in, in every larger numbers and “taking over.” They were reminded at least that these Gentile Christians were “of great faith.”
Still it must have been challenging and perhaps even disappointing for to Matthew’s community to see this. Yet, the church was growing.
***
And so then, we come to the challenge of the Gospel Reading for us today:
Who are the people who annoy us? Who we have trouble respecting? Worthy of our time? We all have the people who rub us the wrong way. Can we appreciate that these people, annoying to us as they may be, are still children of the same God, hence our brothers and sisters, and ... gasp ... may have something to teach us?
Can we take then this week, again in the still in the midst of summer to think of a couple of those people who annoy us and try to see how we could come to accept them for who they are (initially annoying as they may seem) and perhaps even see if we can learn a thing or two from them.
This may be a good time of year to do this. Life flows a little slower during the summer and so we may have the time necessary to take a project like this up. Besides, annoyance, “shortness of nerves” or outbursts of anger are often associated with things happening a bit faster than we are prepared to handle. In the summer, things move slower. So we have more time and perhaps a better attitude to take this up.
And it may be very useful to do so. One could gain a friend or two (or reduce the number of people to be worried about) and one could learn a thing or two as well.
Finally, we’d be doing what God wants us to do and preparing ourselves for our destiny in Heaven. Because if we don’t get along here, we’re going to have to get along there.
So then let us then take up this challenge today and seek to use this vacation time to work on fixing a relationship or two. It’ll make us better and help us to appreciate even a few of the people who previously annoyed us or caused us trouble.
It’s been a nice summer with regard to the Sunday readings this year. July had begun with three week opportunity to refect on a number of parables involving simple summertime often pastoral images – wheat, weeds, fields, treasures and pearls. Then we heard a couple of the Gospel’s great miracle stories – Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 and Jesus’ walking on the sea.
This Sunday appears to form a transition, from the Miracle Readings of the previous Sundays to the readings that focus on confessions of faith. This week we hear of the Confession of Faith of the Syro-Phoenecian woman. Next week, we’ll hear St. Peter’s Confession of Faith.
Indeed, it is interesting that the Syro-Phoenecian woman’s Confession of Faith comes first (and it comes first in the Gospel of Matthew from which the Readings are taken. But then it has been a recurring theme in the Gospel that the marginalized often understand Jesus better than those who should have known better.
And the Syro-Phoenecian woman was not just martinalized but three times marginalized: First, she was a woman, and generally speaking Jewish religious leaders of the time didn’t talk to strange women. Second, she was foreign, ethnically, Syro-Pheonecian. Finally, she was of a foreign religion. She was pagan. And no good Jew talked to pagans.
Yet, this woman came to Jesus and called out “Have pity on me, Lord, Son of David.”
To many, her words ought to seem familiar, even if somewhat jumbled, because they are nearly identical to the blind man Bartimaeus who by the road in Jericho had called out “Jesus, Son of David have mercy on me!” (Mk 10:47, cf Mt 9:27). Bartimaeus was another utterly marginalized person, being blind. And even though he was blind, he actually “saw” better than the dicriples who did not understand who Jesus was and who tried to shut him up.
In the case of the Syro-Phoenecian woman, they tried to do so as well. And remember two weeks ago just prior to the Miracle of the Multiplication of the Loaves, they asked Jesus to send the people home. Repeatedly, the disciples (perhaps to protect their own status) tried to keep others away from “their Jesus.” And so it is here.
***
Now that the Disciples would have behaved this way is not altogether surprising. As I noted, they seemed to be very protective of their closeness to Jesus. However, this reading is somewhat problematic, not because of what the Disciples were doing. Instead the Reading is somewhat problematic because of what Matthew has Jesus himself saying.
Afterall, Jesus himself seemed rather rude to the woman.
First he ignores her. Then he tells the Syro-phoenecian woman that he came for the “lost children of Israel.” Finally he tells her that only “It is not right to take the food of the children
and throw it to the dogs.”
What to make of this?
Perhaps the key here would be to understand that Matthew, writing to a Jewish-Christian was trying to portray Jesus as having been a good Jewish rabbi. Hence Matthew was trying to show his audience that Jesus really did come for the “Lost Children of Israel” first. But faced with both the needs and especially _the faith_ of some of the Gentiles, Jesus, _even if reluctantly_ reached out to them as well. It could have become a way for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian community to come to terms with the reality that the Gentile Christians were coming in, in every larger numbers and “taking over.” They were reminded at least that these Gentile Christians were “of great faith.”
Still it must have been challenging and perhaps even disappointing for to Matthew’s community to see this. Yet, the church was growing.
***
And so then, we come to the challenge of the Gospel Reading for us today:
Who are the people who annoy us? Who we have trouble respecting? Worthy of our time? We all have the people who rub us the wrong way. Can we appreciate that these people, annoying to us as they may be, are still children of the same God, hence our brothers and sisters, and ... gasp ... may have something to teach us?
Can we take then this week, again in the still in the midst of summer to think of a couple of those people who annoy us and try to see how we could come to accept them for who they are (initially annoying as they may seem) and perhaps even see if we can learn a thing or two from them.
This may be a good time of year to do this. Life flows a little slower during the summer and so we may have the time necessary to take a project like this up. Besides, annoyance, “shortness of nerves” or outbursts of anger are often associated with things happening a bit faster than we are prepared to handle. In the summer, things move slower. So we have more time and perhaps a better attitude to take this up.
And it may be very useful to do so. One could gain a friend or two (or reduce the number of people to be worried about) and one could learn a thing or two as well.
Finally, we’d be doing what God wants us to do and preparing ourselves for our destiny in Heaven. Because if we don’t get along here, we’re going to have to get along there.
So then let us then take up this challenge today and seek to use this vacation time to work on fixing a relationship or two. It’ll make us better and help us to appreciate even a few of the people who previously annoyed us or caused us trouble.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 - 19th Sun of OT - Jesus’ outstretched hand to us
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/080711.cfm
Each summer, we find ourselves in the U.S. and in Europe in Ordinary Time and every three years we hear the same Readings. But everytime we hear them, we do hear them differently.
I have been amazed this summer how _perfectly_ the Readings fit life during this time of year (at least here in the U.S.A. or in Europe) where summer means vacation, or at least slowing down.
Over these weeks, we’ve heard stories/accounts of wheat, weeds, shrubs, fields, pearls and food. Today we get to talk about water. What a really nice liturgical summer it has been ;-), because probably all us have a story or two about water and the summer that brings back fond memories of family, friends and _hopefully_ the presence of God.
I know something about "waves on a lake" because when I finished my first year in college, my dad and I went canoeing on the Boundary Waters that summer. (Throughout those years, in fact, my dad and I went on a number of wonderful trips, this being the first and one of the best. In the following years, we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee one year, and the other year we went to Banff/Jasper Nat’l Parks in Alberta, Canada which was _another_ great and unforgetable trip). But the first of these trips was to the Boundary Waters.
We drove out to the Boundary Waters, rented a canoe from an outfitter. He dropped us off at one of the lakes and told us that he’d meet us there 5 or 6 days later “at 5 PM” ;-) and that was it.
Now both of us, being Czechoslovakian and former scouts knew _something_ about canoeing. The Czech Republic doesn’t have a whole lot of lakes worth getting a sail-boat for. But it _does_ have a good number of rivers. And so learning something about canoeing is part of growing-up. And we knew something about ponds “rybniky” (a little lake or two) as well. But the rather impressively long (and more to the point, _wide_) lakes of the Boundary Waters did prove to be something of a surprise: when the wind blew, the waves _did get rather large_, or large enough to become worrisome, while sitting in a canoe gliding about a foot above the surface of the water.
Still we were brave, and quite fit in those days. And so we did complete our 5-6 day trek, canoeing/portaging through those lakes. There was only one point where we were rather worried about whether or not we’d “make our ride” the next day "at 5 PM." The wind had been blowing particularly hard that day, and there was a lake that we simply had to cross directly from one shore to the other, without being able to stay near shore.
FORTUNATELY we reached the lake only near sunset. So the wind had died down. The waves were still quite large, but without the wind, they ceased to be that fearsome. What made that trip across the lake unforgettable for me were the colors – with the sun setting, the water turned yellow, orange and brown. Enthralled by this, somewhere near the middle of the lake, I exclaimed (certainly to myself) “My God, it’s like we’re canoeing on jello.”
Now (as I write this), I would hope actually that we had _not_ experienced a “water miracle” and the lake had _not_ turned temporarily into jello ;-), still the experience _of the colors_ was remarkable and though this happened nearly 30 years ago, I still haven’t forgotten it, but recall it as if it happened yesterday. And 30 years later, though I've taken plenty of photos over the years of sunsets and water, I've never seen water _so beautiful_ as I saw on that day.
****
Now I know that the Gospel Reading today is about Jesus calming the sea and even pulling Peter “out of the water” when he tried to walk with him.
We’ve heard this story many times and certainly _the main point_ of this miracle story is that Jesus is capable of walking above all the troubles of this world and is capable of even reaching out toward _us_ to pull _us_ out of the mire when we call for help.
But perhaps it is worth noting just this time, today, thanks to THIS HOMILIST (me), that Jesus used the elements of nature (notably wind and water on a lake) to reveal himself in this miracle to his disciples.
And the story invites _us_ to reflect on the times when _we_ felt particularly close to God (both in nature or in other situations that only _we’d_ appreciate).
I would like to add here that the trips that my dad and I took into the wilderness those years WERE SPIRITUAL JOURNEYS. We always took a Bible as well as other unambiguously Christian spiritual reading when we went on these trips. And yes, we read and we prayed on these trips. And yes, I do believe that these trips were _fruitful spiritual exercises_ that not only brought us closer to each other but also closer to God.
So in closing this homily, I’d like to ask all of you to reflect on when in your lives you’ve sought to come closer to God, and how did you (or could you have) met the _outstretched hand of Jesus_.
God reveals himself in to us _all kinds of ways_, including, above all in the Eucharist that we celebrate here (and why we are here now in the first place).
But I do believe that he does reveal himself to us throughout our lives and _not surprisingly_ in the course of things that we love to do.
Thus the question for this week, again, for your reflection during this lazy time of rest or at least slowing down: Where/when in the course of your life have you felt closest to God? ;-)
And let us give thanks for the remarkable summer that it has been! God bless you all.
Each summer, we find ourselves in the U.S. and in Europe in Ordinary Time and every three years we hear the same Readings. But everytime we hear them, we do hear them differently.
I have been amazed this summer how _perfectly_ the Readings fit life during this time of year (at least here in the U.S.A. or in Europe) where summer means vacation, or at least slowing down.
Over these weeks, we’ve heard stories/accounts of wheat, weeds, shrubs, fields, pearls and food. Today we get to talk about water. What a really nice liturgical summer it has been ;-), because probably all us have a story or two about water and the summer that brings back fond memories of family, friends and _hopefully_ the presence of God.
I know something about "waves on a lake" because when I finished my first year in college, my dad and I went canoeing on the Boundary Waters that summer. (Throughout those years, in fact, my dad and I went on a number of wonderful trips, this being the first and one of the best. In the following years, we went hiking in the Smokey Mountains in Tennessee one year, and the other year we went to Banff/Jasper Nat’l Parks in Alberta, Canada which was _another_ great and unforgetable trip). But the first of these trips was to the Boundary Waters.
We drove out to the Boundary Waters, rented a canoe from an outfitter. He dropped us off at one of the lakes and told us that he’d meet us there 5 or 6 days later “at 5 PM” ;-) and that was it.
Now both of us, being Czechoslovakian and former scouts knew _something_ about canoeing. The Czech Republic doesn’t have a whole lot of lakes worth getting a sail-boat for. But it _does_ have a good number of rivers. And so learning something about canoeing is part of growing-up. And we knew something about ponds “rybniky” (a little lake or two) as well. But the rather impressively long (and more to the point, _wide_) lakes of the Boundary Waters did prove to be something of a surprise: when the wind blew, the waves _did get rather large_, or large enough to become worrisome, while sitting in a canoe gliding about a foot above the surface of the water.
Still we were brave, and quite fit in those days. And so we did complete our 5-6 day trek, canoeing/portaging through those lakes. There was only one point where we were rather worried about whether or not we’d “make our ride” the next day "at 5 PM." The wind had been blowing particularly hard that day, and there was a lake that we simply had to cross directly from one shore to the other, without being able to stay near shore.
FORTUNATELY we reached the lake only near sunset. So the wind had died down. The waves were still quite large, but without the wind, they ceased to be that fearsome. What made that trip across the lake unforgettable for me were the colors – with the sun setting, the water turned yellow, orange and brown. Enthralled by this, somewhere near the middle of the lake, I exclaimed (certainly to myself) “My God, it’s like we’re canoeing on jello.”
Now (as I write this), I would hope actually that we had _not_ experienced a “water miracle” and the lake had _not_ turned temporarily into jello ;-), still the experience _of the colors_ was remarkable and though this happened nearly 30 years ago, I still haven’t forgotten it, but recall it as if it happened yesterday. And 30 years later, though I've taken plenty of photos over the years of sunsets and water, I've never seen water _so beautiful_ as I saw on that day.
****
Now I know that the Gospel Reading today is about Jesus calming the sea and even pulling Peter “out of the water” when he tried to walk with him.
We’ve heard this story many times and certainly _the main point_ of this miracle story is that Jesus is capable of walking above all the troubles of this world and is capable of even reaching out toward _us_ to pull _us_ out of the mire when we call for help.
But perhaps it is worth noting just this time, today, thanks to THIS HOMILIST (me), that Jesus used the elements of nature (notably wind and water on a lake) to reveal himself in this miracle to his disciples.
And the story invites _us_ to reflect on the times when _we_ felt particularly close to God (both in nature or in other situations that only _we’d_ appreciate).
I would like to add here that the trips that my dad and I took into the wilderness those years WERE SPIRITUAL JOURNEYS. We always took a Bible as well as other unambiguously Christian spiritual reading when we went on these trips. And yes, we read and we prayed on these trips. And yes, I do believe that these trips were _fruitful spiritual exercises_ that not only brought us closer to each other but also closer to God.
So in closing this homily, I’d like to ask all of you to reflect on when in your lives you’ve sought to come closer to God, and how did you (or could you have) met the _outstretched hand of Jesus_.
God reveals himself in to us _all kinds of ways_, including, above all in the Eucharist that we celebrate here (and why we are here now in the first place).
But I do believe that he does reveal himself to us throughout our lives and _not surprisingly_ in the course of things that we love to do.
Thus the question for this week, again, for your reflection during this lazy time of rest or at least slowing down: Where/when in the course of your life have you felt closest to God? ;-)
And let us give thanks for the remarkable summer that it has been! God bless you all.
July 31, 2011 - 18th Sun of OT - Some Food For Thought
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/073111.cfm
We, of course, continue to find ourselves in the middle of summer and the middle of Ordinary Time. During the past three Sundays, we’ve heard a number of Jesus’ parables which give us much food to chew on, to reflect on during these lazy hot days when much of the northern hemisphere both here in the U.S. and in Europe is on vacation or at least taking it easy by the pool or on a beach somewhere.
This week, we begin a series of Sundays in which we hear a number of miracle stories associated with Jesus.
And since it is summer, and the Gospel passages that we’ve heard throughout the summer have given us “food for thought,” it is perhaps fitting that _the first_ of these miracle stories that we hear is a “food miracle.” It’s the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and it's a great miracle for the summer-time reflection ;-).
I say this because summer is the time for picnics and gatherings. And who hasn’t worried at least sometime about food during this time? Will the food come? Will there be enough? Will it come out okay? What if someone won’t like it? etc, etc.
And so both the Gospel Reading and really all the Readings this Sunday are about trust in God that “all will turn out well.”
In the 1st Reading, from Isaiah we are reminded again of the need to choose well (perhaps a reminder of last week’s theme) to “not put trust in things that will not satisfy.” But rather to put our trust in God.
In the 2nd Reading, from Romans, a reading that I honestly believe that EVERYBODY should find, cut out and put up on their refrigerator or bathroom mirror for when they need to hear it, St. Paul reminds his readers that NOTHING and NOBODY can separate us from the love of God (so then, why worry about any disaster ...).
Yet all this is well and good but if we find ourselves in an awkward, worrisome situation, this can prevent us from seeing clearly. And so this is where we find the disciples in the Gospel story of today:
Jesus had been preaching all day in a rather deserted place. There were thousands of people there. It was getting late. And the disciples began to worry: “how are we going to feed all these people?”
Jesus tells the disciples, “feed them yourselves.” And they become terrified. They respond that all they have is “five loaves and two fish.” (Incidently, how is that possible. Were they themselves _that stupid_? It would seem that the disciples themselves didn’t have enough food for themselves...).
But Jesus took the opportunity to perform a miracle. He blessed those fish and loaves. And were told that 5,000 men not counting the women and children were fed.
How’d he do that? We don’t know. We’re told that the disciples understood what happened to be a miracle. And a miracle it was, however it happened. A situation that could have ended badly, ended much better than the disciples had feared.
We too, find ourselves in many situations like this. And it makes for an interesting question: How often do we acknowledge the miracle that happened when things turned out better than we feared? Were the resolutions to those situations miracles? God’s answers to our prayers? Honestly ... maybe they were (miracles).
In any case, we are assured that God is indeed with us, that God gives us what we need and especially in that 2nd Reading we are reminded that NOTHING or NOBODY can separate us from God.
So while there is _always_ plenty that one can find to worry about, let’s remember that with God with us all will turn out well... even if someone knocks over the potato salad ;-)
And this all can make for some good ‘food for thought’ as we continue on through this nice lazy summer ... ;-) God bless you all, and have a pleasant coming week!
We, of course, continue to find ourselves in the middle of summer and the middle of Ordinary Time. During the past three Sundays, we’ve heard a number of Jesus’ parables which give us much food to chew on, to reflect on during these lazy hot days when much of the northern hemisphere both here in the U.S. and in Europe is on vacation or at least taking it easy by the pool or on a beach somewhere.
This week, we begin a series of Sundays in which we hear a number of miracle stories associated with Jesus.
And since it is summer, and the Gospel passages that we’ve heard throughout the summer have given us “food for thought,” it is perhaps fitting that _the first_ of these miracle stories that we hear is a “food miracle.” It’s the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and it's a great miracle for the summer-time reflection ;-).
I say this because summer is the time for picnics and gatherings. And who hasn’t worried at least sometime about food during this time? Will the food come? Will there be enough? Will it come out okay? What if someone won’t like it? etc, etc.
And so both the Gospel Reading and really all the Readings this Sunday are about trust in God that “all will turn out well.”
In the 1st Reading, from Isaiah we are reminded again of the need to choose well (perhaps a reminder of last week’s theme) to “not put trust in things that will not satisfy.” But rather to put our trust in God.
In the 2nd Reading, from Romans, a reading that I honestly believe that EVERYBODY should find, cut out and put up on their refrigerator or bathroom mirror for when they need to hear it, St. Paul reminds his readers that NOTHING and NOBODY can separate us from the love of God (so then, why worry about any disaster ...).
Yet all this is well and good but if we find ourselves in an awkward, worrisome situation, this can prevent us from seeing clearly. And so this is where we find the disciples in the Gospel story of today:
Jesus had been preaching all day in a rather deserted place. There were thousands of people there. It was getting late. And the disciples began to worry: “how are we going to feed all these people?”
Jesus tells the disciples, “feed them yourselves.” And they become terrified. They respond that all they have is “five loaves and two fish.” (Incidently, how is that possible. Were they themselves _that stupid_? It would seem that the disciples themselves didn’t have enough food for themselves...).
But Jesus took the opportunity to perform a miracle. He blessed those fish and loaves. And were told that 5,000 men not counting the women and children were fed.
How’d he do that? We don’t know. We’re told that the disciples understood what happened to be a miracle. And a miracle it was, however it happened. A situation that could have ended badly, ended much better than the disciples had feared.
We too, find ourselves in many situations like this. And it makes for an interesting question: How often do we acknowledge the miracle that happened when things turned out better than we feared? Were the resolutions to those situations miracles? God’s answers to our prayers? Honestly ... maybe they were (miracles).
In any case, we are assured that God is indeed with us, that God gives us what we need and especially in that 2nd Reading we are reminded that NOTHING or NOBODY can separate us from God.
So while there is _always_ plenty that one can find to worry about, let’s remember that with God with us all will turn out well... even if someone knocks over the potato salad ;-)
And this all can make for some good ‘food for thought’ as we continue on through this nice lazy summer ... ;-) God bless you all, and have a pleasant coming week!
July 24, 2011 - 17th Sun of OT - On choosing well ...
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/072411.cfm
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time. And it being the summer / vacation time in much of the world, the Readings that we hear are relatively “easy”, parables mostly over the last three weeks, giving us something to reflect on each Sunday while we enjoy this lazy time of year.
This Sunday’s Gospel offers us two parables both about discernment and making a decision about what is most important to us in life. In the first parable we hear of someone who found a treasure in a field. He buried the treasure again and then put everything that he had into buying that field. In the second parable, we hear of a merchant who found a pearl of great value and that he too, then set out to sell everything that he had to buy that pearl of great price.
And so we’re asked to reflect on today, how we make decisions and what is the “pearl of great price” (or what it ought to be / become) in our own lives.
In reflecting on how we make decisions, we’re not left with a completely open slate. We’re given in the First Reading the example of Solomon, who shortly after becoming King has a vision. He is asked by God what he would want. Solomon was young. He could have asked for anything and he certainly could have been tempted to ask for all kinds of things that would not have been helpful to him. Instead, he asked for wisdom.
Now he could have been partly driven to requesting this, because he was, in fact, young. He wasn’t even really supposed to be king. There were older sons of David who probably should have gone before him. However, his mother, Bethsheba had played her part, and there he was King now, King at a young age, and probably somewhat scared.
But be all that as it may, we hear today that Solomon did choose well by asking for Wisdom. And God blessed him for it. Today something close to 3,000 years later (give or take a few hundred years) we still remember Solomon for being wise.
We too, when we are young (and perhaps earlier than we realize that we are doing so) are asked to make some fairly fundamental decisions – what kind of career direction do we wish to take, who do we marry? And yes, these decisions definitely effect the rest of our lives.
So how do we do them well?
Well, for “whoever has ears, hear...” ;-). An attitude like Solomon’s is probably pretty good: BE HUMBLE and ASK GOD FOR HELP. It’s a lot better to have God on your side in those decisions than to ignore him and take the consequences afterwards.
But what then if we screwed up? What if we chose badly early in life, or chose badly up until this very moment? And all of us who've reached a certain age have made our mistakes in life.
Well the GOOD NEWS OF JESUS CHRIST IS -- QUITE HONESTLY -- THAT THE MISTAKES DON'T ULTIMATELY MATTER. We CAN change. We CAN always come back. That doesn’t mean that our past decisions have no consequences. They do. Guess what, most of us _won’t_ grow up to be President. (Probably none of us were called to be that anyway ... But even if we were, it doesn’t matter. God’s Will will be done in one way or another). AND we were NEVER CALLED TO BE "IMPORTANT" ANYWAY. We weren’t called to be famous. We weren’t called to be Great. We are simply called to be Good. (and let's face it, that's hard enough as it is ;-)
And we find in Scripture that "a little Goodness" on our part _goes a tremendously long way_. David, Solomon’s father, did one True "profession of faith." AS A TEENAGER, no more than about 14-15 years of age, when he was bringing some food to his older brothers “at the front,” he saw the giant Goliath taunting the Israelite army and the whole army (including David’s older brothers) quivering in fear before him. David, not being able to stand this, proclaimed _as a 14-15 year old_ that if no one else will volunteer to take Goliath’s challenge that he would (basically “if God is with us, who can be against us.”) AND FOR THIS SINGLE (perhaps even spontaneous) DECISION, GOD LOVED DAVID FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. HE FORGAVE DAVID EVERYTHING THAT HE DID IN LIFE AFTERWARDS (and he did fall/sin a lot ... note Bethsheba). But _none_ of David’s failings mattered to God. For _that one decision_, that ONE instant of faith when he was young, God forgave David _everything_ to the point that when Jesus came to this earth, one of the titles that he carried (mind you, GOD’s OWN SON) was “Son of David.” That is how much God loved David.
God also loved Solomon, to the point that we remember him even up to today as “wise.” In truth, though, after a lot of disappointments and long last, God _did_ tire of Solomon as well (as said of him in Scripture). Solomon did make repeated bad (unwise) decisions later in life (taking, many, many wives, being cruel, etc). And so after Solomon died, the Kingdom of Israel divided ...
However, the point is that God did _put up a lot_ with Solomon as well AND even though he didn't necessarily love Solomon in the end as much as he loved David, TO THIS DAY we remember Solomon for (again) making a _single good decision_ early in life. And we remember Solomon TO THIS DAY for "being wise" (even if later in life, he turned out to lose some of that luster and wisdom).
And lest we worry “Oh my, I made _a lot_ of _terrible_ decisions ‘early in life.’” well remember the Good Thief on the Cross. At the last moment in life, he made a _good decision_ and Jesus promised him “Even today, you will be in paradise.”
So it’s never, ever too late. But we do have to ask God to be with us, in the making of our decisions and then to help carry us through the hard times in life. Difficulty and struggle make-up a great part of all of our lives. Yet, how much easier it is, how much “lighter our burden is” if we have God at our side.
So let’s then make _that_ (God being at our side) _our_ “pearl of great price.” remembering that the rest ... won’t really matter anyway.
So let us ALL come to choose well. God bless you all.
We find ourselves in the midst of Ordinary Time. And it being the summer / vacation time in much of the world, the Readings that we hear are relatively “easy”, parables mostly over the last three weeks, giving us something to reflect on each Sunday while we enjoy this lazy time of year.
This Sunday’s Gospel offers us two parables both about discernment and making a decision about what is most important to us in life. In the first parable we hear of someone who found a treasure in a field. He buried the treasure again and then put everything that he had into buying that field. In the second parable, we hear of a merchant who found a pearl of great value and that he too, then set out to sell everything that he had to buy that pearl of great price.
And so we’re asked to reflect on today, how we make decisions and what is the “pearl of great price” (or what it ought to be / become) in our own lives.
In reflecting on how we make decisions, we’re not left with a completely open slate. We’re given in the First Reading the example of Solomon, who shortly after becoming King has a vision. He is asked by God what he would want. Solomon was young. He could have asked for anything and he certainly could have been tempted to ask for all kinds of things that would not have been helpful to him. Instead, he asked for wisdom.
Now he could have been partly driven to requesting this, because he was, in fact, young. He wasn’t even really supposed to be king. There were older sons of David who probably should have gone before him. However, his mother, Bethsheba had played her part, and there he was King now, King at a young age, and probably somewhat scared.
But be all that as it may, we hear today that Solomon did choose well by asking for Wisdom. And God blessed him for it. Today something close to 3,000 years later (give or take a few hundred years) we still remember Solomon for being wise.
We too, when we are young (and perhaps earlier than we realize that we are doing so) are asked to make some fairly fundamental decisions – what kind of career direction do we wish to take, who do we marry? And yes, these decisions definitely effect the rest of our lives.
So how do we do them well?
Well, for “whoever has ears, hear...” ;-). An attitude like Solomon’s is probably pretty good: BE HUMBLE and ASK GOD FOR HELP. It’s a lot better to have God on your side in those decisions than to ignore him and take the consequences afterwards.
But what then if we screwed up? What if we chose badly early in life, or chose badly up until this very moment? And all of us who've reached a certain age have made our mistakes in life.
Well the GOOD NEWS OF JESUS CHRIST IS -- QUITE HONESTLY -- THAT THE MISTAKES DON'T ULTIMATELY MATTER. We CAN change. We CAN always come back. That doesn’t mean that our past decisions have no consequences. They do. Guess what, most of us _won’t_ grow up to be President. (Probably none of us were called to be that anyway ... But even if we were, it doesn’t matter. God’s Will will be done in one way or another). AND we were NEVER CALLED TO BE "IMPORTANT" ANYWAY. We weren’t called to be famous. We weren’t called to be Great. We are simply called to be Good. (and let's face it, that's hard enough as it is ;-)
And we find in Scripture that "a little Goodness" on our part _goes a tremendously long way_. David, Solomon’s father, did one True "profession of faith." AS A TEENAGER, no more than about 14-15 years of age, when he was bringing some food to his older brothers “at the front,” he saw the giant Goliath taunting the Israelite army and the whole army (including David’s older brothers) quivering in fear before him. David, not being able to stand this, proclaimed _as a 14-15 year old_ that if no one else will volunteer to take Goliath’s challenge that he would (basically “if God is with us, who can be against us.”) AND FOR THIS SINGLE (perhaps even spontaneous) DECISION, GOD LOVED DAVID FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE. HE FORGAVE DAVID EVERYTHING THAT HE DID IN LIFE AFTERWARDS (and he did fall/sin a lot ... note Bethsheba). But _none_ of David’s failings mattered to God. For _that one decision_, that ONE instant of faith when he was young, God forgave David _everything_ to the point that when Jesus came to this earth, one of the titles that he carried (mind you, GOD’s OWN SON) was “Son of David.” That is how much God loved David.
God also loved Solomon, to the point that we remember him even up to today as “wise.” In truth, though, after a lot of disappointments and long last, God _did_ tire of Solomon as well (as said of him in Scripture). Solomon did make repeated bad (unwise) decisions later in life (taking, many, many wives, being cruel, etc). And so after Solomon died, the Kingdom of Israel divided ...
However, the point is that God did _put up a lot_ with Solomon as well AND even though he didn't necessarily love Solomon in the end as much as he loved David, TO THIS DAY we remember Solomon for (again) making a _single good decision_ early in life. And we remember Solomon TO THIS DAY for "being wise" (even if later in life, he turned out to lose some of that luster and wisdom).
And lest we worry “Oh my, I made _a lot_ of _terrible_ decisions ‘early in life.’” well remember the Good Thief on the Cross. At the last moment in life, he made a _good decision_ and Jesus promised him “Even today, you will be in paradise.”
So it’s never, ever too late. But we do have to ask God to be with us, in the making of our decisions and then to help carry us through the hard times in life. Difficulty and struggle make-up a great part of all of our lives. Yet, how much easier it is, how much “lighter our burden is” if we have God at our side.
So let’s then make _that_ (God being at our side) _our_ “pearl of great price.” remembering that the rest ... won’t really matter anyway.
So let us ALL come to choose well. God bless you all.
July 17, 2011 - 16th Sun of OT - What a Parish can be
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071711.cfm
We find ourselves this month in the heart of Ordinary Time. And in the United States (and much of the world) this means that we find ourselves _in the middle of summer_. As such, the Readings we find during this time of year were probably chosen (by the those in the Church who’d be responsible for choosing these things – a Liturgy Commission at the Vatican) to be relatively simple.
Indeed, you will have probably noticed today, that the Gospel Reading was rather long (that’s why I had you sit down). And yet, despite its length, it offered three parables – about the Wheat and the Chaff, about the Mustard Seed and about the Woman adding Leaven to Bread.
Why? Well it could well be because in most of Europe it is hot, just like it is hot here in Chicago this time of year. And because it is hot (and until recently _there was no air conditioning_) the expectation was probably that the Gospel would be proclaimed and there probably wouldn’t be much of a homily. But since the Gospel was about 3 beloved parables _that most of the people would already know_, there probably wouldn’t be much need to add anything to them. And the people would still have something to reflect on during the week as they worked in the fields, or sat under the shade somewhere.
Since we _do have air conditioning_ here at Annunciata, I will, however, say a few words ;-):
First, it is clear that the Commission which prepared our Lectionary and hence picked the Gospel Reading for this Sunday wanted us to focus on the first parable of the three that we hear today – the one about the Wheat and the Chaff. I say this because the “shorter version” of this week’s Gospel contains ONLY this parable and the “longer version” which contains the other two short parables ends with the disciples asking for an explanation of the first parable again, which then Jesus provides. So there’s no escaping saying at least a few words about that first parable.
And the words could be this: Thankfully, it will be up to the Angels and God to “separate the wheat from the chaff,” that is, separate from the good people and the bad. And I do believe this to be GOOD NEWS because if it was left to us _I am positive_ we would mix the good with the bad. That is, while I’m sure all of us would feel completely certain in our ability to identify the people we’d like to send to Hell and proceed to try to send them there, I am also equally certain that there’d be plenty of people who’d probably want to send us there as well. So it is probably good that it’s _not_ up to us (but rather up to God) to determine who’ll go to Heaven and who goes to Hell. And indeed, as I say, that _could_ be the Good News in that parable.
But having then talked at least a little about that first parable, I’d like to focus on the second one, the one about the “Mustard Seed.”
I LIKE THIS PARABLE. It’s one of my favorites and it is so because it gives a beautiful example of what the Church is called to be and what a Parish, (_any_ parish) could come to be.
We’re told that a little mustard seed (symbolizing even a small amount of effort) can grow into a large shrub, and large enough so that “all the birds of the air” could find room to nest within it.
What a beautiful symbol for both the Church and a Parish! I say this because if we are honest, the Church has to be big enough for everybody, certainly big enough for _everybody of good will_. And even in a parish there is _always_ diversity.
In a parish like Annunciata, it would perhaps be both easiest (and most problematic) to talk about race. But really we are talking about more than that. There is a diversity in _any_ parish of not just ethnicity but age, need and sensibility. There families with dogs, there families with cats. There are families with big dogs, small dogs, lap dogs, hunting dogs, playful dogs, lazy dogs, and families with everything from "show dogs" ("dogs with papers") to "mutts." And the same thing could be said then about families with cats. What then of families with birds or lizards or gold fish? Then there are families of gardeners, scouts, athletes (Annunciata has a great athletic program), musicians, gamers, avid readers, hikers, accountants, etc. And this is all reflective of different sensibilities and personalities. And a parish ought to recognize these different gifts and look for ways to include them and put them to use.
And to a good extent we do that. Each year we probably see this best at Annunciata Fest where the hope is to bring in as many of the different people of the parish to celebrate it and offer the gifts that we have to the others.
And it is important that we do so, that we come to see the “Other” not as a “Stranger” or even as a "potential threat" but as someone who has gifts/talents to offer to others.
Again, I’m trying very hard here _not_ to hit directly the issue of Race or Ethnicity (but certainly we can see that it can apply here). We all have a lot to offer each other even as we do have differing sensibilities. And it’s really _our choice_ as to how we _choose_ to respond to difference / the diversity among us. We can _choose_ to make it a problem or we can see it as a gift -- an opportunity of inviting a "new birds" (and younger birds) "to nest among our branches."
Because ultimately we are all -- the young, the old, dog people or cat people, gardeners, artists or athletes -- children of the same God.
Those who have ears, ought to hear ;-). God bless, and have a nice nice week ahead!
We find ourselves this month in the heart of Ordinary Time. And in the United States (and much of the world) this means that we find ourselves _in the middle of summer_. As such, the Readings we find during this time of year were probably chosen (by the those in the Church who’d be responsible for choosing these things – a Liturgy Commission at the Vatican) to be relatively simple.
Indeed, you will have probably noticed today, that the Gospel Reading was rather long (that’s why I had you sit down). And yet, despite its length, it offered three parables – about the Wheat and the Chaff, about the Mustard Seed and about the Woman adding Leaven to Bread.
Why? Well it could well be because in most of Europe it is hot, just like it is hot here in Chicago this time of year. And because it is hot (and until recently _there was no air conditioning_) the expectation was probably that the Gospel would be proclaimed and there probably wouldn’t be much of a homily. But since the Gospel was about 3 beloved parables _that most of the people would already know_, there probably wouldn’t be much need to add anything to them. And the people would still have something to reflect on during the week as they worked in the fields, or sat under the shade somewhere.
Since we _do have air conditioning_ here at Annunciata, I will, however, say a few words ;-):
First, it is clear that the Commission which prepared our Lectionary and hence picked the Gospel Reading for this Sunday wanted us to focus on the first parable of the three that we hear today – the one about the Wheat and the Chaff. I say this because the “shorter version” of this week’s Gospel contains ONLY this parable and the “longer version” which contains the other two short parables ends with the disciples asking for an explanation of the first parable again, which then Jesus provides. So there’s no escaping saying at least a few words about that first parable.
And the words could be this: Thankfully, it will be up to the Angels and God to “separate the wheat from the chaff,” that is, separate from the good people and the bad. And I do believe this to be GOOD NEWS because if it was left to us _I am positive_ we would mix the good with the bad. That is, while I’m sure all of us would feel completely certain in our ability to identify the people we’d like to send to Hell and proceed to try to send them there, I am also equally certain that there’d be plenty of people who’d probably want to send us there as well. So it is probably good that it’s _not_ up to us (but rather up to God) to determine who’ll go to Heaven and who goes to Hell. And indeed, as I say, that _could_ be the Good News in that parable.
But having then talked at least a little about that first parable, I’d like to focus on the second one, the one about the “Mustard Seed.”
I LIKE THIS PARABLE. It’s one of my favorites and it is so because it gives a beautiful example of what the Church is called to be and what a Parish, (_any_ parish) could come to be.
We’re told that a little mustard seed (symbolizing even a small amount of effort) can grow into a large shrub, and large enough so that “all the birds of the air” could find room to nest within it.
What a beautiful symbol for both the Church and a Parish! I say this because if we are honest, the Church has to be big enough for everybody, certainly big enough for _everybody of good will_. And even in a parish there is _always_ diversity.
In a parish like Annunciata, it would perhaps be both easiest (and most problematic) to talk about race. But really we are talking about more than that. There is a diversity in _any_ parish of not just ethnicity but age, need and sensibility. There families with dogs, there families with cats. There are families with big dogs, small dogs, lap dogs, hunting dogs, playful dogs, lazy dogs, and families with everything from "show dogs" ("dogs with papers") to "mutts." And the same thing could be said then about families with cats. What then of families with birds or lizards or gold fish? Then there are families of gardeners, scouts, athletes (Annunciata has a great athletic program), musicians, gamers, avid readers, hikers, accountants, etc. And this is all reflective of different sensibilities and personalities. And a parish ought to recognize these different gifts and look for ways to include them and put them to use.
And to a good extent we do that. Each year we probably see this best at Annunciata Fest where the hope is to bring in as many of the different people of the parish to celebrate it and offer the gifts that we have to the others.
And it is important that we do so, that we come to see the “Other” not as a “Stranger” or even as a "potential threat" but as someone who has gifts/talents to offer to others.
Again, I’m trying very hard here _not_ to hit directly the issue of Race or Ethnicity (but certainly we can see that it can apply here). We all have a lot to offer each other even as we do have differing sensibilities. And it’s really _our choice_ as to how we _choose_ to respond to difference / the diversity among us. We can _choose_ to make it a problem or we can see it as a gift -- an opportunity of inviting a "new birds" (and younger birds) "to nest among our branches."
Because ultimately we are all -- the young, the old, dog people or cat people, gardeners, artists or athletes -- children of the same God.
Those who have ears, ought to hear ;-). God bless, and have a nice nice week ahead!
July 10, 2011 - 15th Sun of OT - We don’t have to succeed but we’re called to try ...
Readings - http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/071011.cfm
This Sunday, in the heart of Ordinary Time, we begin a three week period in which we hear for the Gospel Reading a number of very well known parables. And so, today, we start with one of the most famous ones, the Parable of the Sower and the Seed.
Pretty much all of us know this parable and know it quite well. Yet each time we hear it, we hear it in a different way.
We hear it today in the midst of our summer and perhaps we can see it then _as an invitation_ to reflect on it comfortably, indeed happily and _with ease_ as we sip our iced-teas (or Long Island iced teas) wondering what Jesus is telling us in the midst of all those seeds.
Let me offer some thoughts:
First, Jesus seems to be telling us that he (and therefore God) _knows_ that _only some of the seed is going to fall on good ground_. He says that some seed is going to fall on the path, some on rocky soil, and some among thorns and finally only some seed is going to fall on good soil.
But in fulfillment of that beautiful first reading from Isaiah, it would seem that Jesus (and therefore God) is counting on the seed that falls on good ground to more than make-up for the rest (yielding 10, 30 and a 100 fold) so that “not a single drop of water that falls down from heaven would return to it without having fulfilled its purpose.”
So there’s both _a lot_ of responsibility placed on the seed that falls on good ground, and actually a certain amount of _acceptance/forgiveness_ extended to the seed that “doesn’t make it.”
Most of us probably fall in “mixed ground.” There are aspects of it that is probably pretty good. But there are certainly rocks and thorns present to most of us as well.
Will we make it? Will we yield 10, 30, 100 fold? This could be a rather scary question, especially if we realize that the ground on which we have fallen is probably rather mixed.
What the first Reading and the Gospel Reading assure us, however, is that God’s will, God's plan _will be fulfilled regardless_, and _our task_ is simply to seek to grow and _try_ to produce fruit. Whether we succeed or not _is up to God_ and where we happened to fall. But _all of us_ have the ability to try.
So, "whoever has ears, ought to hear" ;-). And have a nice week ;-)
This Sunday, in the heart of Ordinary Time, we begin a three week period in which we hear for the Gospel Reading a number of very well known parables. And so, today, we start with one of the most famous ones, the Parable of the Sower and the Seed.
Pretty much all of us know this parable and know it quite well. Yet each time we hear it, we hear it in a different way.
We hear it today in the midst of our summer and perhaps we can see it then _as an invitation_ to reflect on it comfortably, indeed happily and _with ease_ as we sip our iced-teas (or Long Island iced teas) wondering what Jesus is telling us in the midst of all those seeds.
Let me offer some thoughts:
First, Jesus seems to be telling us that he (and therefore God) _knows_ that _only some of the seed is going to fall on good ground_. He says that some seed is going to fall on the path, some on rocky soil, and some among thorns and finally only some seed is going to fall on good soil.
But in fulfillment of that beautiful first reading from Isaiah, it would seem that Jesus (and therefore God) is counting on the seed that falls on good ground to more than make-up for the rest (yielding 10, 30 and a 100 fold) so that “not a single drop of water that falls down from heaven would return to it without having fulfilled its purpose.”
So there’s both _a lot_ of responsibility placed on the seed that falls on good ground, and actually a certain amount of _acceptance/forgiveness_ extended to the seed that “doesn’t make it.”
Most of us probably fall in “mixed ground.” There are aspects of it that is probably pretty good. But there are certainly rocks and thorns present to most of us as well.
Will we make it? Will we yield 10, 30, 100 fold? This could be a rather scary question, especially if we realize that the ground on which we have fallen is probably rather mixed.
What the first Reading and the Gospel Reading assure us, however, is that God’s will, God's plan _will be fulfilled regardless_, and _our task_ is simply to seek to grow and _try_ to produce fruit. Whether we succeed or not _is up to God_ and where we happened to fall. But _all of us_ have the ability to try.
So, "whoever has ears, ought to hear" ;-). And have a nice week ;-)
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