Fr. Roger J. Landry
Annunciation-Our Lady of Fatima Parish, Crestwood, NY
Sexagesima Sunday
February 16, 2020
2 Cor 11:19-33.12:1-9, Lk 8:4-15
To listen to an audio recording of today’s homily, please click below:
The following text guided today’s homily:
Today the Church celebrates Sexagesima Sunday, which means that Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent are only ten days a way. It’s a period of preparation given to us by God so that we may be ready to respond to God’s help to make this Lent the best Lent of our life, so that we may truly repent and believe in the Gospel, so that we may unite ourselves fully to Jesus in his prayer, fasting and giving of himself in love to the extreme, so that we may ultimately let go of a spirit worldliness, of wanting to be like everyone else, and take on a spirit of holiness and desire to become more and more the image of God.
To assist us in this much-needed preparation, the Church has us ponder Jesus’ parable of the Sower and the Seed, which helps us to take, a soil sample of our hearts, to determine how we receive and respond to Jesus, to all that he teaches us, and to all that he seeks to do in our life. Jesus is the Sower who goes out to sow. He ultimately sows himself like a “grain of wheat” (Jn 12:24): he sows his word, his grace, his body and blood, all he is and has, as he tries to implant within us and within the world. But the way we respond to those gifts varies.
To understand his image, we first need to grasp a little about ancient farming techniques (and how much farming has advanced in 2,000 years!). Sowers would scatter seed on long thin plots before any soil had been turned over. The seed would land on four different types of earth. The first is the hardened land between plots that would become the ancient sidewalks on which people would walk and harden, where no seed could penetrate and the birds of the air could come and snatch the seeds away. The second would be the very thin “rocky” soil that would have thick layers of limestone a few inches underneath the surface. Here the seeds would take and quickly germinate because the water would be retained within the few inches of soil, but because the roots couldn’t penetrate the stone, the sprouts would not be able to last for long, quickly dehydrating and withering as the sun grew in intensity. The third terrain Jesus describes as “thorny” soil, which is basically good earth that could have borne a lot of fruit if it weren’t covered with thornbushes and weeds that would grow up exhausting the nutrients of the soil so that the good seed really couldn’t grow. And the last type was “good soil” that Jesus describes would bear abundant fruit.
Just as a sower at Jesus’ time would scatter seed over all four types of earth, so Jesus scatters his word, his grace, his saving deeds over all four kinds of people represented by the respective soil samples. We see all four soil types among his first listeners and among people today.
We saw in many of the scribes and Pharisees the hardened soil that totally resisted Jesus’ words and the testimony of his miracles, closing their ears and their hearts to his message and actually accusing him of working his indisputable miracles not by God’s power but by the devil. No matter what Jesus said, no matter how he said it, no matter how he backed it up by deeds, they weren’t going to listen and be converted. The evil one, as Jesus mentions in the Parable, would come to snatch the seed away before it could ever get planted. We find this hardened soil, closed and stubborn hearts, in many inveterate sinners who resist any call to conversion. But we also find it, as Jesus, did in many people with reputations for being very religious. We can find it, for example, in daily communicants who have heard the word of God so many times that they know the end of the story and they cease to listen in a way so as to change. Sometimes we also find it in the elderly, those who say, “You can’t teach old dogs new tricks,” who refuse to change even at Jesus’ word. Sometimes we find it in the young, for example in rebellious teens, who already are prepared to resist their parents, or teachers, or the Church, no matter what is asked. We saw it this last week in some German Catholics who called Pope Francis a coward for not caving into their pressure to allow married men to become priests in the Amazon, not being open in the least to God’s ways not being what they themselves want.
We see the rocky or superficial soil in the people for whom Jesus worked the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish. They listened to Jesus for hours, they even followed him after the miracle along the entire upper lip of the Sea of Galilee, but most of them abandoned Jesus as soon as he asked them to believe something they found hard, his teaching on the Eucharist, that to have life we need to gnaw on his flesh and drink his blood. They were willing to listen to Jesus’ words for a time, but when he asked them to do something that made them uncomfortable, their faith withered and died. We find the rocky or superficial soil in those who approach the word of God to be entertained rather than to be changed. They judge everything on whether they “like” it or dislike it. They would much rather listen to a good storyteller who keeps them laughing and smiling than to someone who calls them to examine their consciences, their actions, their aspirations, their lives in the light of God’s word. They sadly bear no fruit because they don’t allow the Gospel to go deeply.
We see the thorny soil in those who said that they would follow Jesus but first they wanted to bury their father, or go on their honeymoon, or inspect their new oxen. We also see it in the Rich Young Man, who came to Jesus as a good teacher and who kept all the commandments from his youth, but who — when Jesus gave him a choice between storing up for himself treasure in heaven or holding on to his earthly riches — chose the thorn bush of his worldly wealth. His materialism choked his growth in faith and prevented his seeking “perfection” together with Jesus. Jesus defines the thorns as “anxieties and riches and pleasures of life,.” We know that these things still choke spiritual growth. If we come here to listen to Jesus with anxious hearts — for example, because a loved one is in the hospital with a terrible diagnosis, or because we don’t know how we’re going to pay this month’s rent — it’s going to be very hard to hear God’s word, even if God speaks to us about trusting in his providential care. Likewise, if someone comes only thinking about what he or she is going to have for lunch, or who’s going to win the NBA All-Star game this afternoon, or what one will do this week at work or school, it’s going to choke their receptivity and responsiveness to his Word, because their minds and hearts will be elsewhere.
We see the good soil in people like the Blessed Mother, who, as the ancient icons attest, conceived the word of God first through her “ear” before she conceived him in her womb, whom Jesus praised for hearing the word of God and putting into pratice, who wanted her whole life to develop, as she told God through his angel, according to God’s word. We see this good soil in so many other saints like eleven of the apostles, Martha, Mary and Lazarus, and others who bore abundant fruit by allowing God to work through them. It’s always a delight to find this soil, which Jesus says produces not just a little fruit, but thirty, sixty or one hundredfold. These are people who listen to Jesus’ words as words to be done and change their lives in 30, 60, or 100 ways, who meditate on what God whispers in prayer and try to apply it, who act on the good advice given them by confessors, or spiritual directors, or others the Lord sends to guide. Jesus wants to give us all the help he knows we need to have this good, receptive and responsive type of soil. He wants to help us become persons open to his action, people of depth, people who seek first his kingdom with trust, who long to attach themselves fully as branches to the Vine so that they may bear abundant fruit.
In the Gospel today, Jesus says something a little cryptic, but it’s important for our understanding not only what he says in today’s parable but why he uses parables in general. “Knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of God has been granted to you,” he says to the apostles, “but to the rest, they are made known through parables so that ‘they may look but not see, and hear but not understand.’” In St. Mark’s Gospel, Jesus quotes the prophet Isaiah, and says that the reason he teaches in this way is that “they may look and see but not perceive, and hear and listen but not understand, in order that they may not be converted and be forgiven.” He implies that he uses parables deliberately to confuse rather than to clarify, to prevent conversion rather than to facilitate it. But that’s clearly not why he’s doing it. As a teacher, there are obvious reasons to use parables. Jesus begins with what people know to take them by analogy to what they don’t know. He uses various images from daily life to teach about the spiritual life and make what might seem abstract concrete. Especially when someone is teaching at length, stories, images and other illustrations can help listeners both understand and retain the meaning. They’re interesting. But the reason Jesus gives for using parables is something totally else and quite challenging. It’s to engage the freedom of the hearer, to test the listener’s willingness to hear the word and ponder it, to examine his or her hunger for the truth and desire to know the deepest meanings of what God is teaching. If someone hears a parable with no desire to meditate on what is being indicated, it shows how hard-hearted someone is. But if someone desires the truth, hearing the parable, it gives a prism for the examination of one’s life. Parables also can get through to people who would not be able to be reached with direct speech. We see that in the parable that the prophet Nathan gave to King David about the evil of stealing and slaughtering a neighbor’s single beloved ewe lamb for a feast when someone has a whole flock; that’s what allowed David to see how evil was his decision to take Bathsheba adulterously and have Uriah her husband killed. For people who might not initially be open to conversion, parables often will prove to be the most effective way to convict them. Parables test us to see whether we’re going to engage them or blow them off. That’s why he uses them. And so the question is: how much work are we willing to put in, today and as we approach the Lenten season, really to let his word and work take deep root in us? How much are we going to strive to pray as he prays, to fast as he fasts, to sacrifice as he lovingly gives of himself?
Today in the epistle, we ponder what St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians. We can see in it St. Paul’s incredible responsiveness to God’s action in his life, how after the Lord appeared to him outside the city of Damascus, he totally converted, and allowed the Lord to bear far more than 100-fold with the gift of his life. We see today the enormous sufferings he was willing to undergo for the One who had died for him. We see how responsive he was when he begged the Lord to take away the “thorn” in his flesh — which is either a physical illness like malaria or perhaps a person who was a long-standing detractor — but when the Lord replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” St. Paul then boasted of his weakness.
But the context of St. Paul’s words today was because other people, claiming to be super-apostles, had insinuated themselves among the Christians in Corinth and were sowing poisonous weeds of destruction, and many of the Corinthians had listened to those “false apostles,” “deceitful workers,” and masked ministers of righteousness and were following them. They were clearly thorns choking the growth God wanted in them. And St. Paul challenged the Corinthians. He summoned them to conversion. What he did leads us to ask whether there are any false apostles, those claiming to be Christian leaders, in our lives that lead us astray from the real Gospel. Perhaps it’s a blogger who fills us with venom against others and perhaps even the successors of St. Peter and the apostles. Perhaps it’s a priest who tries to pretend that sexual immorality is no big deal and no longer offensive to God. Perhaps it’s a theologian who teaches that our choices matter very little to our eternal salvation, since basically everyone goes to heaven no matter what we do: it doesn’t matter if we pray or play, if we keep or break promises, if we steal or sacrifice, if we come to Mass or sleep in, if we’re faithful to our spouse or cheat, if we provide for or neglect our family, if we forgive or settle scores, if we love or abuse the poor, or if we welcome or abort the littlest of Jesus’ brethren. Perhaps it’s a politician who gets us to neglect Jesus’ words, “I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” While Jesus wants us to have good and rich soil for his word, he wants us to have hardened soil to the false apostles who tried to inseminate untruths in every age.
The last point I’d like to make is with regard to our sharing our faith with others. Jesus calls us to proclaim the Gospel to every creature, to everyone. At some time in our life, perhaps we were filled with zeal and tried, only to have very little to show for it. That can leave us discouraged, as if we’re somehow a failure. But today’s parable is meant to be as consoling for us as it was with St. Paul in Corinth. We’re called to sow Jesus and his word. Sometimes, if it doesn’t take, if it doesn’t bear fruit, it’s not because we didn’t sow well, but because the seed fell on hardened, rocky or thorny soil. Our job is to keep on sowing. Because eventually miracles can happen. We remember what happened in the soil of Saul. If anyone was rigid, it was he. When he was presiding over the stoning of St. Stephen in Jerusalem, and hearing St. Stephen’s last words, trusting his spirit to Jesus and praying that God not hold his executioners responsible, little did he think that that prayer would become efficacious. But it did. Sometimes seeds can stick around. They might not take at first, but they might take later. As we approach Lent, and the spiritual reset button God gives, it’s important for us to put out into the deep waters again, counting on God’s grace, to endure what we have to, like St. Paul did, to share the gift of the faith with others.
Today at Mass, Jesus has sown his word into us and awaits our response. He is about to sow himself — body, blood, soul and divinity. As we prepare for Lent in ten days, let us learn from St. Paul how to embrace these with a generous and good heart, and, like him, bear fruit through perseverance.
The readings for today’s Mass were:
A Reading from the Second Letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians
Brothers and Sisters: You gladly put up with fools, since you are wise yourselves. For you put up with it if someone enslaves you, or devours you, or gets the better of you, or puts on airs, or slaps you in the face. To my shame I say that we were too weak! But what anyone dares to boast of (I am speaking in foolishness), I also dare. Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. Are they ministers of Christ? (I am talking like an insane person.) I am still more, with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, far worse beatings, and numerous brushes with death. Five times at the hands of the Jews I received forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked, I passed a night and a day on the deep; on frequent journeys, in dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my own race, dangers from Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers at sea, dangers among false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many sleepless nights, through hunger and thirst, through frequent fastings, through cold and exposure. And apart from these things, there is the daily pressure upon me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is led to sin, and I am not indignant? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. The God and Father of the Lord Jesus knows, he who is blessed forever, that I do not lie. At Damascus, the governor under King Aretas guarded the city of Damascus, in order to seize me, but I was lowered in a basket through a window in the wall and escaped his hands. I must boast; not that it is profitable, but I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know someone in Christ who, fourteen years ago (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows), was caught up to the third heaven. And I know that this person (whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows) was caught up into Paradise and heard ineffable things, which no one may utter. About this person I will boast, but about myself I will not boast, except about my weaknesses. Although if I should wish to boast, I would not be foolish, for I would be telling the truth. But I refrain, so that no one may think more of me than what he sees in me or hears from me because of the abundance of the revelations. Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me.
The Continuation of the Holy Gospel according to St. Luke
When a large crowd gathered, with people from one town after another journeying to him, Jesus spoke in a parable. “A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path and was trampled, and the birds of the sky ate it up. Some seed fell on rocky ground, and when it grew, it withered for lack of moisture. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew with it and choked it. And some seed fell on good soil, and when it grew, it produced fruit a hundredfold.” After saying this, he called out, “Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear.” Then his disciples asked him what the meaning of this parable might be. He answered, “Knowledge of the mysteries of the kingdom of God has been granted to you; but to the rest, they are made known through parables so that ‘they may look but not see, and hear but not understand.’ “This is the meaning of the parable. The seed is the word of God. Those on the path are the ones who have heard, but the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts that they may not believe and be saved. Those on rocky ground are the ones who, when they hear, receive the word with joy, but they have no root; they believe only for a time and fall away in time of trial. As for the seed that fell among thorns, they are the ones who have heard, but as they go along, they are choked by the anxieties and riches and pleasures of life, and they fail to produce mature fruit. But as for the seed that fell on rich soil, they are the ones who, when they have heard the word, embrace it with a generous and good heart, and bear fruit through perseverance.
