Grow!

          One day, Hans and Fritz were resting on a hay bale at the side of the road when a young, American exchange student approached on his bicycle. The student asked, "Do you know the way to Frankfurt?" Not speaking any English, Hans and Fritz just shrugged their shoulders. Having majored in foreign languages at Georgetown University, the premier language learning institute in the nation, the exchange student was undaunted. He tried the question in French, but with no luck. He tried again in his best Italian, then Spanish. He even threw in some Japanese for good measure, but with each translation, Hans and Fritz just shrugged, unable to understand what the young man was asking. When he ran out of languages, the exchange student realized that he was getting nowhere, so he rode on. After a few moments, Hans turned to Fritz and said, "You know, we really need to grow. We should learn a foreign language." But Fritz replied, "Why? It didn't help him." Fritz didn't understand that if we really want to grow, we have to help ourselves. That's the message of today's Gospel.

          In today's Gospel we hear the familiar story known as the Parable of the Sower. But oddly enough, the parable isn't really about the sower. All we learn about the sower is that he went out to sow, and he sowed freely and liberally. Seeds were flying everywhere. The parable really focuses on the seeds and the soil – God's Word, and those who hear it. 

          God's Word is freely and liberally sown. The "salvific seed of God's good news [is] sown freely and indiscriminately so that anyone with ears to hear and a heart willing to understand might listen and learn the ways of God.”[1] God's Word is available to all of us. "The sower does not make distinctions between different soils; he simply throws the seed.”[2] And that seed, God's Word, is always effective. It always finds good soil. As God says through Isaiah in our first reading, "my word shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it." (Isaiah 55: 11)

          That leads us to the soil: those who hear God's Word – to us. The parable speaks of four different types of soil, but only one produces an abundance of good fruit: the rich soil; the soil that's been cultivated. As the Gospel tells us, the rich soil is "the one who hears the word and understands it." (Matthew 13: 23) But let's face it, Scripture can be difficult to understand, and Jesus speaks in parables. He can be so confusing that his own disciples even challenge him, asking him why he speaks that way. What's the big secret? Is God trying to hide the ball from us? No. "The reason the secret 'has not been given’ is not that Jesus desires to hide the truth but that he wants his followers to seek the truth.”[3] We play an important part in cultivating God's Word. "In order to understand parables, hearers must be attentive and open to the things of God.”[4] Ultimately, each one of us is responsible for our own journey of understanding – the journey from God's Word to the good fruit we produce with it. We have to help ourselves. "[W]hen the word and soil come together completely and effectively, the result is an abundance and an excellence beyond imagination.”[5]

          So the challenge of this Gospel for us begins with the obvious question: "What kind of soil am I?"

• If I hear God's Word, but make no effort to understand it, I'm the path where the seed will be stolen away from me;

• If I find great joy in God's Word but don't let that joy take root in my heart, I'm the impenetrable rocky ground, where the fruit of God's Word will quickly wither when times get tough;

• If my life is a tangled mess of worries and material desires, I'm the thorny land that chokes God's Word so that it bears no fruit in me.

• But if I receive God's Word in my heart, ponder it and act upon it, I'm the rich soil, and I will bear much fruit.

The reality is that we're probably all of these types of soil at different times in our lives. "At one time or another every person loses the word to the evil one, is enthusiastic but not persevering, pursues riches at the expense of soul, and also bears abundant fruit.”[6] Every one of us has the opportunity to be rich soil for God's Word. So not only does the seed always find good soil, it finds good soil in each one of us. As Pope Francis so beautifully put it, "Although the life of a person is a land full of thorns and weeds, there is always a space in which the good seed can grow.”[7]

          You know, "[t]he purpose of life on earth is that the soul should grow. So grow!"[8] But we all know that growth requires nurturing, some hard work, and we may even need to get our hands a little dirty. It's the same with our faith. God wants us to enjoy the fruits of his Kingdom now, and he's given us the seeds and the tools we need to do just that. The rest is up to us. We need to cultivate our lives to be receptive to God's Word; we need to remove the stumbling blocks and thorns that keep us from bearing good fruit. If we really want to grow, we need to help ourselves. It's our choice: We can choose to grow and bear good fruit, or we can just sit on the side of the road like Hans and Fritz shrugging our shoulders as we watch the fruits of God's Kingdom pass us by.


Readings: Isaiah 55: 10-11; Romans 8: 18-23; Matthew 13: 1-23

^[1] Patricia Datchuck Sánchez, “A Missiology to Make Our Own,” National Catholic Reporter, vol. 50, no. 18 (June 20-July 3, 2014) at 27.

^[2] Madeleine Baumont, Days of the Lord: Ordinary Time Year A, vol. 4 (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 1992) at 125.

^[3] John W. Martens, “Listen!” America, vol. 211, no. 1, (July 7-14, 2014) at 45.

^[4] Baumont at 124.

^[5] John Shea, The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers: On Earth as It is in Heaven, Matthew, Year A (Collegeville, Liturgical Press, 2004) at 228.

^[6] Shea at 228.

^[7] Antonio Spadaro, SJ, “A Big Heart Open to God,” La Civiltà Cattolica (September 19, 2013) at 11.

[8] Zelda Fitzgerald, letter (1944), reprinted in Nancy Milford, Zelda (New York, Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2011).