June 18, 2018
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily on the 11th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year B) on June 17, 2018, at St. Thomas More Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Ezekiel 17:22-24; Psalm 92; 2 Corinthians 5:6-10; and Mark 4:26-34.
Today, we hear two parables from the Gospel of Mark that we think we know, but we’re probably in for some surprises. The first one starts out sounding like another parable that’s more familiar to us. We’re sure that we know the second parable, but we’re probably more familiar with the version of it told in the Gospel of Matthew.
This is a great opportunity for us. For once, we might be able to react to these parables as the disciples did when they first heard them 2,000 years ago. Perhaps our confusion will prompt us to ask Jesus to explain the parables to us in the privacy of our prayer.
Even if we cannot yet see the full extent of God’s love for us, let us celebrate God’s great gift of mercy.
One year in the seminary, I had the opportunity to work at a parish in Washington, DC widely regarded as one of the best in the country. I had been around the block enough times at this point in my seminary career. I really thought that, this time, I had found something that would satisfy the crazy balance of demands of my school, my religious community, and the parish, and the work would still help me develop new pastoral skills. My supervisor and I wrote up a promising contract… but the year was a disaster. The main thing that I was supposed to do was help with the Thursday night marriage preparation program, but a few weeks later, the Paulists formation team decided that I had to be involved with a program on Thursday nights on the other side of town. I was supposed to lead the effort to promote the Week of Prayer For Christian Unity, but somehow, the three articles that I wrote for the bulletin didn’t get published, and the general intercessions I wrote did not get used at Mass.
Through it all, my supervisor, Judith, was incredibly supportive. She kept on saying, “Don’t worry; you’re planting seeds.” I think she was referring to St. Paul, when he says to the Corinthians, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God caused the growth.” It’s been said that for faith to grow in our hearts, it takes many, many personal encounters to “water” the seed before it blooms into a mature plant.
Judith insisted that some day, long after I moved on, the few small things that I did accomplish during that year might be nurtured by others and eventually inspire some people to come to greater faith. I must admit, at the time, I thought, “what a nice-sounding spiritual cop-out, ‘planting seeds.’ It makes someone who failed feel better.”
Jesus talks about seeds in our two parables today. What’s a parable? It’s not just a story. It’s an educational story, with a surprising twist at the end that’s hard to understand. If we ever think that we completely understand a parable, we’re probably wrong.
Today’s two parables sound so simple. But they’re stories we can turn over and over again in our minds for prolonged contemplation. In the first story, the seed matures into an ear of corn without the farmer understanding how the growth process works.
What does the seed represent? Is it God’s plans for the world, present among us, but we can’t fully see how God’s plans will come to fulfillment? If that’s the case, even though Jesus doesn’t say it, it seems to imply that God needs us to tend to the seeds of his plan, even if we don’t understand what God’s plans are.
But perhaps the seeds represent the people of the world and the harvest is the end of time. Is the idea that we will not be judged by God until the end of our lives?
In the second parable, Jesus’ emphasis is that the mustard seed is tiny but the mustard bush is large. But why would he compare the kingdom to a bush, rather than to the stately trees used by Ezekiel in the first reading? Mustard plants are not all that majestic, but they do spread easily, covering whole hillsides in just a few short years. So perhaps the point is that the life of faith will provide sustenance and shade to all people throughout the world?
As a priest, I have one of the best jobs in the world. I get to talk with many people on various stages of their faith journey. One of the neatest things is working with the RCIA process, meeting people who feel called to become Catholics as adults. When these people share their stories of how they have reached this moment, I get to hear amazing stories that have unfolded over decades – the relationships and the experiences that have inspired these people to take a leap of faith.
Well, it’s not necessarily a leap of faith. It’s a process. Through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, others have planted seeds and watered them. The seeds have sprouted and grown, even if we don’t know how.
And in those moments of hearing other people’s faith stories, I think of my supervisor Judith. I guess that I planted some seeds during that year that felt like a disaster. I didn’t revise the parish marriage preparation program, but I probably made a difference to the couples I met. Nobody read the articles I wrote for the bulletin, but I arranged for one of my religious brothers (Paulist Fr. Ron Roberson) to give an inspiring talk at the parish about ecumenical dialogue.
All of us have the potential to plant many seeds of faith in our lifetimes, but it’s very rare that we get to see the fruit of the seeds that we’ve planted. Nevertheless, the more we travel with other people on this journey of faith, the more we get to see the fruits of the seeds planted by others. Hopefully, seeing that reassures us that we are planting seeds ourselves elsewhere.
Or, as the Letter of James exhorts us: “See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You too must be patient.”
As we await the second coming of Jesus, may his challenging parables continue to nourish the faith still growing within each one of us.