Journey's Weekly Homilies

7/14/02 (15^th Sunday, Ordinary Time
Homily by Carol

Is. 55:10-11
Ro. 8:18-23
Mt. 13:1-23 

Twenty-three years ago in an eighth-grade Sunday school class I asked Sister Danielle Marie why as Catholics we were told to cross our foreheads, lips and hearts when we heard the gospel announced in church. She told me that as persons of faith we bless ourselves as a reminder to keep the word of God, the gospel, the good news, in our minds, on our lips and in our hearts. I asked why we didn’t cross our ears. To me, the justification and the gesture seemed incomplete. She told me that if I thought blessing my ears would be helpful, I was welcome to do so. I don’t think I’ve heard the gospel announced once since eighth-grade when I haven’t blessed my ears. And so tonight I invite you to join me in that practice as we break open these holy words.

 We say this because we want to believe it:
 Our God is with you.
(And also with you.)

A reading from the gospel according to the tradition of Matthew.                                              

That same day Jesus went out of the house and sat beside the sea. Great crowds gathered around him. So many people gathered that he got into a boat and sat there. The whole crowd stood on the beach. And he told them many things in parables, saying: 

A sower went out to sow. As she sowed, some seeds fell along the path, and the birds came and devoured them. Other seeds fell on rocky ground, where they had not much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since they had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched; and since they had no root they withered away. Other seeds fell upon thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked them. Other seeds, however, fell upon good soil and brought forth grain, some a hundred-fold, some sixty-, some thirty-. She who hears, let her hear. He who hears, let him hear. 

Then the disciples came and said to Jesus, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” He answered them, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given. For to him who has more will be given, and he will have abundance; but from him who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand. With them indeed is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah which says:

You shall indeed hear but never understand, and you shall indeed see but never perceive. For this people’s heart has grown dull, and their ears are heavy of hearing, and their eyes they have closed, lest they should perceive with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and turn to me to heal them. 

But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous human beings longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. 

“Hear then the parable of the sower. When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what is sown in her heart; this is what was sown along the path. As for what was sown on rocky ground, this is he who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no root in himself, but endures for a while, and when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately he falls away. As for what is sown among the thorns, this is she who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the delight in the riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. As for what was sown on good soil, this is she and he who hear the word and understand it; she and he indeed bear fruit, and yield, in one case a hundred-fold, in another sixty-, and in another thirty.” 

This is the good news of our God. 

Two months ago when I learned I was assigned the homily for tonight, I immediately looked at July 14^th’s gospel, and within a few words of Matthew 13:1-23, I said, “Oh yeah, the Sower.” In the weeks that followed I read it many times, even at 36,000 feet on a flight to Chicago. I think maybe I thought the holy spirit had an easier chance of inspiring me when I was miles closer to heaven. As I reviewed the story as it’s written here in Matthew and how it appears in Mark and Luke, I kept hearing homilies I had heard before. The Sower: it’s popular. Over the past few weeks, I’ve let the repetitive reading, the biblical-scholarship reading and my own life experiences percolate, and this is what has risen-up: a story about holy ground. 

Every year Jesuit Volunteers are sent out to Portland or Hillsboro or Woodburn or Fairbanks or Detroit or Camden with a Jerusalem cross like the one I am wearing tonight. On the last night of Orientation JVC has a beautiful liturgy and missions each of its volunteers with a Jerusalem cross. Many volunteers wear it every day of their year. They like having a physical icon within sight and grasp. A simple cross around the neck is a reminder of why they are where they are: someplace unlike other places, dislocated, transported even. It has been my responsibility to order those crosses each year. It wasn’t until preparing for this homily, though, that I made a curious connection. The company from which I ordered those crosses is called Terra Sancta, holy ground. 

In the past eight years over twelve hundred human beings aged twenty-one to seventy-eight have been Jesuit Volunteers in the Northwest. Most of them responded to a brochure or a poster emblazoned with JVC’s motto: Be ruined for life. Although JVC’s word choice might be startling to some, most would agree that the gist of what’s being suggested evokes wonder. 

How is being ruined cultivated? What are the roots of changed hearts and minds? What nourishes the relationship between conversion and recognized abundance?  Earlier this year, Megan, a Hillsboro JV, wrote “I can’t say there’s something about JVC that I didn’t expect, or that I didn’t feel a glimmer of the possibilities for transformation, for connection, for acceptance or love. But the quantity has overwhelmed me.” 

Like in the parable of the sower, the cracking open happens on holy ground. You don’t have to be a Jesuit Volunteer though to live on it or wear it. That’s tonight’s good news—holy ground is all around us if we look and listen for it. Perhaps the most important message of tonight’s gospel is that the seed cast on good soil, holy ground, not only grew but yielded fruits beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. At the time of Matthew’s writing, an average yield was 7 ½ fold, but this story tells us that these yields were four, eight and thirteen times that. 

When I am awake enough to notice I’m on holy ground, I too am stunned by what rises up. When I am in a good place--aware that I am a beloved child of God with a loving partner, a crowd of great friends, a supportive community, a steadfast family-- there’s more than enough of everything: courage to make hard decisions, time to spend with persons who ask for it, money for trips to Pennsylvania, space for dinner for ten in our little purple home. Tonight’s gospel goes beyond the radical faith tenet You’ll have what you need when you need it. Tonight’s ground-breaking announcement is: There’s a marvelous bounty—so much we’ll be awe-struck. All we need are eyes that can see the bounty, ears that can hear it and hearts that can perceive it. 

When the crowds gathered on the beach with Jesus, he didn’t say there are too many of you, some of you will have to leave, come back another time. He simply sat in a nearby boat and talked to everyone from there. There was enough Jesus to go around; he just had to hop in a boat. He tried so hard to help us get it: there’s enough for everyone, more than enough, and even much more to come. Do we get it? Look around. Listen.