September 6, 2020 at St. Peter and St William Churches in Naples, FL

Ezekiel 23, 7-9 + Psalm 95 + Roman 13, 8-10 + Matthew 18, 15-20

My father had a few old sayings that in my adult life I have begun to wonder about and question very seriously. Some of them were sillier than others. Some of them were wise and thoughtful. Some others I have come to question. When I would leave the house at night with friends, there was always the shout: “Don’t do nothin’ stupid!” To say that my father was a lot like Archie Bunker would be an exaggeration, he hated the show, but I always thought it was insightful and revealing. In the wisdom category would say: “Don’t buy more than you can pay for.” However, there is one saying that has been a problem for me, and when it is believed and followed, it becomes a serious matter for all of us. He would say now and then: “Mind your own business.” Now, in his favor, I can allow that he may have been talking about gossip; but when applied too broadly, something goes wrong.

In an age of blame when responsibility is often shifted away from one’s self the instruction of this Gospel is very much to the point. Just a few moments ago, you all stood up. Sometimes I wonder if you know why. The easy answer is that it’s just what we Catholics do for the reading of the Gospel. I would like to suggest to you that it’s much more than a custom. In fact, if that is what it has become we’re in trouble. We stand for the Gospel because we are the presence of Christ who has come to speak to us. I don’t like all the other implication of this comparison, but in a court room, everyone stands when the Judge enters because the judge is going to say something. Now, Jesus speaks to us today, and he gives us some serious instructions about a serious matter that is close to his heart: forgiveness and unity that is preserved by reconciliation.

Something about us always likes the third step in the process that Matthew has handed on to us. The three steps were nothing new. This was a process already in effect in Jewish communities and described in great detail in the Old Testament. Having instructed us a couple of weeks back about binding and losing,  Jesus now reinforces that instruction to make it clear that every effort must be made to keep the community together, and not lose anyone for lack of attention. Yet, something about us always prefers to take a short cut and go for the third step first. I cannot count the times when as a Pastor someone came into my office demanding that I “do something” about this or that person or behavior that needed attention. Forget about the first two steps, just go for the big guns is the attitude, and it hardly ever works.

I think about this as I can count the number of times when things have gone terribly wrong because people decided to mind their own business and say nothing when something was wrong. It creates a kind of silence that is terrible. It happens in families and among friends who live their lives tiptoeing around one another avoiding speaking up about something that is hurting everyone. Alcoholism, Drug abuse, physical abuse victimizes other people, and fear is the controlling agent. We all know he script: “Say nothing.” “Don’t bring that up.” What good will it do?” “You’ll never change their minds.” And so, there is silence, deadly silence while hearts scream in anguish and spirits shrivel up and die.

We have suffered from this as a church partly because no one said anything or spoke up when trusted people broke the trust. We have suffered from this as families when silence prevails and we watch someone destroy their life or their future. We can talk all we want about how the church should do something, about how someone else should put a stop to something, but when we skip the first two steps, it is more likely that there will be no alternative except to expel and break our relationships which the first two steps strive to maintain.

            So, Jesus is speaking today. Jesus is breaking the silence and teaching us to take care of one another, to stop trying to find an easy way to avoid expressing our love and concern for someone who is hurting themselves and hurting others. Love must be the driving force, not anger, vengeance, or judgement. Just simply love that springs from our desire to be one, to be whole, to be holy.

October 4, 2020 at St. Peter the Apostle Church in Naples, FL

Isaiah 5, 1-7 + Psalm 80 + Philippians 4, 6-9 + Matthew 21, 33-43

We all just stood up to hear Jesus Christ speak to us directly from this Gospel. To sit down now and to think that we have heard Jesus of Nazareth attacking the chief priests and leaders of the people is to completely miss the point and somehow dis-engage the Gospel from real life. It is not about them. It is about us. They are entrusted with the care of God’s creation and God’s children. They blew it, and in a clever trap with this dialogue, Jesus gets them to condemn themselves.

History and Literature are full of stories about tenants and landlords. Almost always, the landlord is the bad guy and the tenants are victims of greed and abuse. This parable is different, because the landlord is the good guy and the tenants are the bad guys. It ought to leave us a little troubled and perhaps disturb our consciences which we so often like to keep quiet. This is a stark reminder that we are expected to bear fruit, that the owner, God, will come to collect, and if there is no fruit to return, it will not go well for us.

I am not a firm believer in coincidences, because I believe in a provident God.  Yet, it is wonderful and helpful today to hear Jesus speak to us this way on the Feast of St Francis of Assisi, and during the time of leadership by a Pope named, Francis who has spoken to us time and time again about our responsibility for this earth, God’s vineyard. How we care for it matters, because it’s not ours. The earliest story in our scriptures reveals God’s intention by putting us here with clear instructions. We ought to learn a lesson from this Gospel about how it goes with those who begin to think that just because they are here it belongs to them and they can do what they want with it.

We are warned today by the truth of this Gospel that this earth is not ours, and that the one to whom it belongs expects us to bear fruit and return it to return to him. To whatever extent we may have become possessive and ambitious, we run the risk of becoming self-condemned tenants of God’s vineyard. We are not placed here to build huge estates for ourselves or amass great portfolios and fat bank accounts. God is not interested in any of that. In fact, as Pope Francis has warned, this quickly slips into idolatry. What God longs for then and still today is social justice and integrity, and things that bring peace. When the master comes and finds us well fed, fat, and comfortable while 2/3^rd of his children are hungry, it isn’t going to go well. When more than half of what gets produced on American farms goes to waste and spoils on grocery store shelves, we won’t have much to show the master.  When the master comes and finds people refusing to speak to one another, a life-time of broken promises, violence, abuse, and the hording of this vineyard’s goods, we cannot pretend that the master will be pleased.

The truth is that sitting here on a Saturday afternoon in October there isn’t much we can do about it, but when we leave here, we could get at least get interested, study, and think about how what we might change, improve, and empower the right people to make some reforms, to minimize this damage we are constantly doing to God’s creation. The chief priests and elders of the people eventually solved their problem by taking the master’s son out of town and killing him just as their ancestors silenced the prophets who interrupted their comfortable lives and troubled their consciences. Leaving this Gospel message in the church, and deciding that religious values have no place in our secular lives the rest of the week does the same thing. When the prophetic Francis, Pope of Rome is written off or ignored because we think he should be taking care of pious or religious matters, the same disastrous consequences are likely to follow. The good news here is that we know how it works with God, and that this vineyard owner is yet to come. But, he will.

This homily was not spoken the weekend of August 29/30.

This weekend is Maronite Weekend at Tequesta, Fl

Jeremiah 20, 7-9+ Psalm 63 + Roman 12, 1-2 + Matthew 16, 21-27

Last week he is called: “The Rock” and given the keys. This week he is called: “Satan” and put in his place which is where a disciple belongs, not in front of the master. Peter, flush with his new authority wants to do the leading, and he learns quite quickly that the kind of leadership Jesus desires is a leadership of service not of power or authority.

Peter has just made a profound statement of belief that Jesus is the Messiah. But, as often is the case with Peter, he got the words right but not the meaning. And so, now begins in Matthew’s Gospel an instruction period, a time of formation and preparation for Peter and anyone else who wants to get to Jerusalem; but the Jerusalem Jesus is headed for is the right hand of his Father. Jesus is going to show them where he is headed, and then he will show them how to get there. They want the “good old days” like it was when David was King. If we translate their idea into today’s political talk, we could say that they wanted to “make Israel great again.” But Jesus knows that Israel wasn’t all that great, and what we heard from the prophet today reveals that truth. There was corruption, oppression, and infidelity rampant at the time, and Jeremiah spoke up against it.

What Jesus will show them in the time remaining is that making Israel great again will be the consequence of sacrifice and service that puts other’s needs ahead of one’s own. What makes for greatness is not law and order which is what the Scribes and Pharisees are always after, but love. It is love that leads us home. It is love that heals. It is love that forgives. It is also love that makes sacrifice possible and often preferable to a promiscuous life that chases after one’s on security, pleasure, and privilege. In Jesus Christ there is no privilege place except at the back of the line. Meanwhile, Peter and his friends will argue among themselves about the seating order at the banquet.

What Jesus asks of us is a commitment to the risk denying to one’s self. It means, I am no longer number one.  When love of someone other than love of one’s self has taken root in our lives, suffering is not a likelihood; it is a certainty. Anyone going to Jerusalem with Jesus is in for serious business. It’s not that suffering is being sought, but that it will inevitably be part of our lives just as it was for Jesus. What we can learn in Matthew’s school of formation is that this all begins with little things. There are all kinds of things in life we don’t like doing, but which we know we have to do if we want to be faithful to our responsibilities and obligations. Sacrifice is not an easy road. But, it is the way that our best self takes shape. This how one becomes a person of character and integrity. And paradoxically this also the road to happiness.  Our happiness does not lie in doing our own thing or what we feel like doing, but in doing what we have to out love for another.

This homily was not delivered, but simply published here.

This weekend is for me a Maronite Mass Weekend at Tequesta, Fl

Isaiah 22, 19-23 + Psalm 138 + Roman 11, 33-36 + Matthew 16, 13-20

This is the same Peter “of little” faith who jumped out of a boat two weeks ago and had to be pulled up and put back in the boat. It is the same Peter who, on a dark night, insists that he “never know the man”. It is the same Peter who is accused of being drunk, then throws open doors and windows proclaiming that “Everyone shall be saved who calls on the name of the Lord.” Peter’s is a story of faith that grows slowly from self-doubt and confusion to rock solid courage. It is a story of how bravado and grandiosity transform into audacity and absolute commitment to the message and person of Jesus Christ. It is the story of how Peter learned from Jesus that power was given for service not for prestige or control. It is the story of Peter’s gradual discovery about what those keys he was given were for; not to lock out but to open up. It is the story of how Peter begins to understand that binding and loosing are not opposites, as legalists might want to suggest. They are, in fact, old rabbinical terms for “permit” and “forgive.”

It is Jesus Christ who speaks in this church today. The Word we just proclaimed is alive and present here. He speaks to us as he did Peter aware of our inconsistent and perhaps “little faith.” Just as he chose Peter to lead, to teach, and to sanctify, he now speaks to us the same words. Never mind that we get things wrong sometimes, that we are given to denial when means standing up for someone or something. Never mind that sometimes our actions do not match our words. What does matter is that we have stood up on our feet and been addressed by Jesus Christ. What  he entrusts to Peter, he gives to us all, because we are church, and this church is not better or worse than any single one of us.

We have been entrusted with the keys. We can either use them to lock out or to open up, to lock our hearts or open our hearts. We can either use them to include others or exclude others, and if do, we should be careful about which side of the gate we are standing on when we turn the key. We, the church, have been given the power, or we might better call it, the “grace” to bind and loose. Why we always want to think these are opposites is curious, and not a thought in our favor. Instead of always thinking that “binding” means refusing to forgive, we might consider the idea that binding mean holding or tying someone to us, to the church, or to Jesus Christ as the way an old Irish hymn sings out: “I bind unto myself this day, the strong name of the Trinity.” This is the only kind of binding that Jesus knew and practiced. He never left anyone in sin. He never left anyone wanting for forgiveness. He bound those people to himself, and that is the kind of binding we must be about as people who have inherited the keys. We have some growing to do. Let us be about it.

August 16, 2020 at St. Peter the Apostle in Naples, FL

Isaiah 56,1, 6-7 + Psalm 67 + Roman 11, 13-1, 29-325 + Matthew 15 21-28

Matthew writes to a church that consists primarily of Hebrew converts. As a way of addressing a problem, he tells them this story. The root of the problem is that they have all grown up formed in their Hebrew faith to believe that they were special, chosen and favored by God. They were God’s “Holy People”. Probably making matters worse, Jesus, who had inspired their conversion and was the center of their community life, was also a Jew. Their status, their identity is being challenged all around as Pagans, Roman, Gentiles, Samaritans, and Canaanites were responding in faith to God’s call.  Suddenly their special place, their very identity is being called into question. As always happens when one’s identity is challenged, they withdraw, become defensive, act offended, becoming rude, selfish, oppressive, and sometimes violent.

Matthew sees this happening, and in this story, he holds up the apostles as an example of this haughty and privileged attitude. Then he puts Jesus out there as an example of how this problem is to be resolved. Jesus changes his mind. When confronted with the reality of that woman’s need and the gift or power he has, everything changes. Matthew tells us that she did him homage. That is a detail that would have amazed everyone. This audacious woman with two strikes against her: her gender and the fact that her people, the Canaanites, were traditional enemies of the Jews, risks the scorn of her neighbors and friends by coming to Jesus of Nazareth. She breached her gender role by approaching a man for help. Then she defused the ethnic antagonism by calling on him as “Son of David”, thereby showing respect for him and calling on the Jewish tradition that makes kings responsible for the welfare of widows, orphans and foreigners. She calls him, “Lord.”  With that, something breaks open. Jesus, the very image of the church remembers who he is, and what the Father expects of him. The prayer of this woman came from her heart speaking to heart of Jesus. Out of mercy and compassion, Jesus shares what he has with someone he may have first thought didn’t deserve it, had not earned it, and so, had no right to it.

This is not so much a story about the power of prayer or persistence as much as it is a story told to the privileged who have forgotten why they have been so gifted. The Living Word of God still speaks to the privileged of every age; to people like us who sit in this comfortable air-conditioned church or in comfortable air-conditioned homes enjoying all that the internet and computers can offer. People like that woman who have nowhere else to go come to us, to this country, and to this church asking for help. There are still some like the apostles in this story who insist that they should be sent away because they bother us. Yet, Jesus is among us still the teacher who reminds us who we are, why we are here, and how to respond. The privileged can learn something today not only about how they must live as worthy recipients of God’s gifts, but also about the power of humility to soften hardened hearts.

August 9, 2020 at St. Peter the Apostle in Naples, FL

Kings 19, 9-13 + Psalm 85 + Roman 9, 1-5 + Matthew 14, 22-33

There is a lot more going on here than just a Gospel story about a storm on the lake and Peter jumping overboard. It is basically a story that confronts a serious mistake we often make when there are trials and stormy times in life. It is a mistake that has been hanging around for a long time, and it shows itself all too often in the face of natural disasters and personal tragedies. The mistake is a game too often played by people of shallow or little faith probably best called: “The Blame Game.” It is a bad way of explaining the reality of disasters and tragedies by suggesting that God is behind it all and does these things to test our faith. When in fact, most disasters or tragedies are simply the consequence of a natural phenomenon or the result of human sin. The truth is that God does not test our faith. That whole idea is almost cruel. The idea of a God who would take pleasure in scaring us or in pain is abominable. This Gospel invites us to think a little differently. It invites us to think more deeply about the trials and tests that inevitably arise in life.

What we can discover here is that God does not test our faith. Troubles, trials, tests are just a part of living. Politics, riots, disease are everywhere, and they are enough to scare anybody. Yet, these things help us to discover what we believe about God and about ourselves. Peter and his friends came to realize in the midst of their fright that they were not alone. They learned that day that God listens to our pleas, and just like last week’s Gospel, if we do what God asks even if it seems impossible like feeding five thousand people or walking on water, amazing things can happen.

Those disciples wanted an end to the storm, but rather than calm the storm, Jesus invited them to just walk over trouble waters. When one of them does what he asks, Jesus gets in the boat with them. It doesn’t say that he did anything or rebuked the wind. It just says they got in the boat and things calmed down. Rather than meet our expectations, God seems to offer to save us in ways we might think impossible.

If you can listen over the noise of this world and the storms of this life, you might hear God’s call: “Come.” It takes a little more than faith to get out of the boat. A great Jesuit mystic is quoted as saying, “What paralyzes life is lack of faith and lack of audacity.” What Peter and his companions learned that day is that faith itself is an audacious way to live, and all of us would probably do well, to learn that lesson from Matthew’s Gospel today. Half measures will not do. If you are going to get out of the boat, if you are going to “Come” when God calls, it takes more than faith. It takes what we might commonly say is “guts”. Faith without some plain old audacious courage isn’t enough, but put the two together, and you can walk over anything this old can throw at you.

August 1, 2020 at St. Peter the Apostle in Naples, FL

Isaiah 55, 1-3 + Psalm 145 + Roman 8, 35, 37-39 + Matthew 14, 13-21

Anyone who is tuned in to Biblical Literature would know before this story ends what is going to happen. What is being counted does not matter. The number is the clue. Five and Two equals Seven, that number in the bible means perfection or fulfillment. It signals completion. Whether it is seven days in creation, or forgiving seventy times seven, the message is clear. There is enough. So, when the disciples tell Jesus what they have: five loaves and two fish, Jesus knows that they have enough. After a prayer, he tells them to give away what they have because Jesus knows that it is enough.

This is the most repeated story in all the Gospels. It is retold twice in Matthew, twice in Mark, once in Luke, and once in John’s Gospel. It was and still is important to the church, but not once does it say in all those versions that Jesus multiplied the bread. What it does say is that he took, blessed, broke, and gave to the disciples. It was the disciples who shared with the crowd. Then, they all ate and were satisfied. Take, Bless, Break, Share. What is important here is those verbs. What Matthew reveals to us is what happens when we do what Jesus asks. He said: Give me what you have, and they did what he asked. After he prayed what was probably a prayer of thanksgiving for what they had, he returned the gifts to the disciples and told them to feed the people.

This is then a story of what happens when disciples do what Jesus does and what Jesus asks. The disciples saw a need, but they expected the people to go away and fend for themselves, while they had something to eat. Like many in this world today, they probably thought, “We took care of ourselves. They should do the same.” There is a lot of that thinking around these days. Nonetheless, the loving generosity of God always being revealed in Jesus will not allow those people to be hungry. The miracle here is not about loaves and fish or some divine action taken by Jesus to suddenly produce more food. This is a miracle of generosity. It is the kind of generosity that is more than giving away the extra change in our pocket or something that we won’t miss because we already have several. It is the kind of generosity that springs from knowing and believing that everything we have comes from God. Everything.  All of this is framed for us in the context of the Holy Eucharist. Take, Bless, Break, Share are words describing the action of Jesus at the Last Supper carried over into every celebration of the Eucharist. This is the story of what happens when disciples do what Jesus asks and what Jesus does, and he asked us to more than celebrate Mass.

What Matthew reveals for us in Jesus Christ is the very image of a God of endless generosity. This is a God who gave his only son, not an extra one or a spare. This is a God who not only fed, but made certain that each one got as much as they wanted, and even so there were left overs. This is why I call this a miracle of generosity, because generosity is not always about giving things. More often it is about giving one’s self which is exactly what happens at this altar. Christ Jesus gives us himself. Yet, nothing could have happened that day in the wilderness had it not been for what the disciples had and were willing to give. A hungry world still waits to be fed, and we to whom enough has been given, must bring it back to God and then bless, brake, and share. What we hear today is the same command and the same words that those disciples heard: “Give them some food yourselves.”  They looked at that crowd and no doubt felt overwhelmed by so many in the face of so little, but they did what he asked and ended with more than they could have imaged; and everyone not only had enough, they were more than satisfied.

July 26, 2020 at St. Peter the Apostle and St William Parishes in Naples, FL

1 Kings 3, 5, 7-12 + Psalm 119 + Roman 8, 28-30 + Matthew 13, 44-52

We have been treated to a whole string of parables in the last several weeks. They call us back to the basics with images of soil, seeds, yeast, weeds, and finally there comes these final images about treasures, pearls, and a net. All of these should have excited our imaginations about the Kingdom of Heaven. The images are simple, and so is the Kingdom of Heaven. It simply means knowing that we are children of God with a divine dignity and an eternal destiny. The Kingdom of Heaven opens for us when we discover the meaning of life and how to live it. Today’s parables touch on these very points: life’s meaning and how to live it.

Disciples of Jesus Christ are a people willing to sacrifice anything at all to live with the nobility and the dignity that comes with being God’s children. If that is you and me, then there is nothing created that can satisfy our search and our longing other than the creator himself. We can never be satisfied with something that makes us happy, because happiness comes and goes. When we have discovered who we are and why, we have discovered the greatest of treasures the gift of God himself in Jesus Christ. That discovery is the meaning of life, and it brings Joy which is very different from happiness.

It takes an external stimulus to trigger happiness. It’s all about things or other people, places or events. Joy however, comes when you are at peace with who you are, why you are and how you are. The extraordinary thing about Joy is that it can exist whether you are happy or not. When we get the two confused, we end up trying to force the feeling of happiness into the place intended for joy. It never works. Happy cannot replace Joy, and Joy is what we all long for. I once read that happiness is an inch deep and a mile wide. Joy is a mile deep and an inch wide. Happiness has a self-centered piece in it. Not so with Joy. It comes from relationship and the exciting discovery that we are loved, and that the love we find has nothing to do with what we look like, feel like, or act like, for that matter. It has to do with knowing and believing with all our mind, our heart, and our soul that God loves us and will not turn his back upon us. Joyful is how we live it.

That is the discovery hinted at in these first two parables. The treasure and pearl are God’s love that draws us into the Kingdom of Heaven. The final parable that brings some closure to this whole series encourages us to sort through our lives, our values, maybe even our relationships and possessions to discover what really matters. What does not should be thrown away. Joy is what marks those who can sell everything for the sake of the Kingdom of Heaven.

July 19, 2020

St. Peter the Apostle and St. William Parishes in Naples, FL

Wisdom 12, 13, 16-19 + Psalm 86 + Roman 8, 26-27 + Matthew 13, 24-43

We are still right where we left off last week. Jesus has come out of the house and gone down to the lake. We are on the shore of the lake. Jesus, on a boat is teaching. Last week he gave the “Parable of the Soil” that some people call the parable of the Sower, but it’s really more about us, the soil. Still thinking in terms of farming Jesus now comes up with these three parables today. The first is serious, the other two are silly. We get a little hint with them that Jesus could use humor to teach a lesson. Sowing mustard seeds is ridiculous! It’s a weed. What is that guy thinking, we ought to ask. Who sows crab grass or dandelions in their flower bed? The last parable is so exaggerated that Jesus must have had those people roaring with laughter. Every time I read it, I recall an “I Love Lucy” episode when she has gone to work at a bakery, and messed up the recipe. The oven door flies open, and dough starts oozing out. Three measures of flour is about 40 pounds in our system! Imagine what 40 pounds of flour would do with yeast in it.

All of these parables are about the Kingdom of Heaven. That’s how he started last week and today: “The Kingdom of Heaven is like….” So, these parables ought to awaken our imagination about the Kingdom of Heaven. That phrase (Kingdom of Heaven) is used 51 times in Matthew’s Gospel. If that doesn’t tell you to pay attention and think about it, nothing will. We have to be receptive to the Word of God we learned last week, like good soil. Once our minds, our hearts, our imaginations, our souls are open, we can begin, with the help of these parables, to imagine the Kingdom of Heaven.

If our imagination is inspired by these parables, we should get the point that the “Kingdom of Heaven” is not territorial or geographic; and while the other Gospels write about the “Kingdom of God” as some future event, Matthew’s “Kingdom of Heaven” begins with the Incarnation. It’s already begun. God is already with us in Jesus Christ. This “Kingdom of Heaven” embraces souls, not land possessions. God’s rule transcends the boundaries of time and space. The power and authority of God is not centered on domination, but in compassion and forgiveness. This is what Pilot could not grasp. This “King” Jesus was no threat to the Romans. He was not interested in land or power. This “King” Jesus was interested in souls, in love, and compassion.

So, the Kingdom these parables reveal is already here. It is now. We’re in it, and when you look around, you begin to get the point of this week’s parables. There are weeds here. It does not matter where they came from, but there are weeds. This world, this church, our lives are not perfect. What do we do about? Jesus says, don’t be upset or angry. You know, that was the problem that the Scribes and Pharisees had. They wanted everything perfect, and they thought they could make it so. They threw people out who were not perfect, and Jesus didn’t like that. He kept putting them back. In their eyes, even Jesus was imperfect. He kept on eating with sinners and tax collectors, touching lepers and the sick they had thrown out. He talked with respect and patience with people like that woman at the well. Everyone knew about her! My friends, we belong here, in this place, in the Kingdom of Heaven imperfect as we are. There is grace, there is a little time, there is a patient God revealed by Jesus who waits for us to listen to his Son and work hard at getting ourselves in shape, preparing for the harvest. It is then that the weeds and the wheat will be separated, not now. Perhaps most importantly of all, we need to realize that we are not the ones to do the separating. That’s not our job. We will have enough to do simply making sure that we are fruitful like the wheat.

July 12, 2020

At the Churches of St. Peter the Apostle and St. William in Naples, FL

Isaiah 55, 10-11 + Psalm 65 + Roman 8, 18-23 + Matthew 13, 1-23

All the parables are about God. Jesus uses them to reveal something about his Father. While that is true of this parable revealing a generous God, whose is not particularly fussy about how much and where “seeds” are sown, God is not really the focus in this parable. Comfortably sitting back gratefully over a God who is so generous isn’t going to help us or lead us anywhere. While it is sometimes called, “The parable of the Sower”, it really ought to be called, “The Parable of the soil.” What the farmer is doing is not remarkable at the time. First, they plowed the field, to loosen the top soil, and then the farmer would simply walk along a path and throw seed out along the way. There were no neat rows or machines to measure out just enough seed in just the right place to get a good cop.

As always with the Living Word of God, something new pops up every time we proclaim the Gospel. That’s just the way it is for people who continue to live and internalize the Word of God which is exactly what Isaiah is proclaiming in the first reading. So, for me, what I heard this week had not caught my attention before. There is a movement here. I hope you caught it. Jesus moves out of the house and sat down by the sea. He is no longer speaking “in the house” to the apostles. Now he speaks to crowds, and he concludes with a statement that makes clear the meaning and the purpose of this parable. Those who have ears, those who are open and listen to the Word of God are Blessed because they understand.

Jesus calls our attention to the privilege that is ours. We have been given the opportunity to see and hear (to understand) what those in the past and some still around us have longed to see and hear. In the second part of the parable, the word “Hear” is used five times, and when spoken in this parable it is not about an audio sensation, but about receptivity. This is what it takes. This is what God requires. This is what discipleship is about, Receptivity. We have to be open to the Word of God. We have to be loosened as was the dry top-soil in that arid climate. The rigid, the smug no-it-all who has made up their mind about everything is not receptive.

I believe what this “Parable of the Soil” asks of us today is to examine and reconsider our receptivity. We must ask and wonder how receptive we are to change, to growth, to conversion of heart. The receptive good soil allows faith to take root, and that faith to produce a harvest which Matthew calls: “The Kingdom of Heaven.” The work of the Holy Spirit in us makes a church that changes, a life that is full of wonder and curious about the unknown. A church and a people who are unafraid of something different or new, but able to see good in all things and all people because, God can’t make anything bad. We rejoice today in the promise that as long as we remain open and receptive to what the Gospel asks of us, we shall be among the Blessed.

At the 9:00am Mass in St William Church, this homily continues.

Among us today are several children whose parents are bringing them into the fullness of our faith. What we have to give these children today is not just Holy Communion in consecrated bread, but Communion among the Holy, a place among God’s people made holy by the sacrificed Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. My dear parents: on the day you brought these children to the Church and to Jesus Christ, you traced the sign of the cross on their forehead, and you promised that you would bring them up in the practice of the faith. You have done so in a beautiful and faithful way, and we recognize that today. For an old priest like me I see your great desire and love for your children, and I share your hope that the seed you have planted in their hearts will grow and bear fruit for countless generations. You have done what you can, and there is more yet for you to do, but the seed is planted, and now it will do only what the seed can do. In years to come, you may grow impatient and perhaps even feel guilty if the seed does not produce the way you wanted. There will come a time when you must simply wait to see what comes up. The waiting is hard, imagining what comes needs some openness and receptivity. Teach that to your children. Help them to remain open and hear the Word of God. The more they are open and receptive, the more they will be Blessed. Please step forward now with your children.

To the children: When you drive home today, I want you to ask your parents to tell you the story of the day you were Baptized. Have them tell you about your God-parents, about what you were wearing, who was there, maybe the name of the priest, and where it all happened. Have them tell you about the name they gave you that day. Then, I want you to ask them what they were feeling like and what they hoped for you that day and what they wanted to give you.  Whoever that priest was, he made the sign of the cross on your forehead. It’s like a mark that makes you different. It’s almost like a scar that shows something about you, something that happened. Then he asked your parents and godparents to do the same, and I want them to do it once more right now. We claim you today as children of God, and as members of this Church family, and I want everyone here to welcome you today into God’s holy family. Now be seated while we prepare and pray over the gift that God has for you, the Body and Blood of his only Son.