A Harvest by Providence

I have had the privilege of celebrating Mass here various times over the last year, but as the lector mentioned at the beginning of Mass, I’m happy to be here today as your associate pastor, assisting Fr. Greg with the care of the parish. I began that responsibility at the beginning of this month, so it is a nice to finally be able to be here with you for Holy Mass.

It is also nice to be with you on this particular Sunday, the 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, a Sunday that has had some significance for me through the years. It was on this Sunday eleven years ago that I celebrated my first Mass at Christ the King across town, the parish where I was raised. And going a little further back, it was on this Sunday fifteen years ago that I got on a plane and left Arkansas, left the United States, to move to Rome, Italy for four years of studies for the priesthood. That period of my life was full of a lot of different emotions: excitement, to be sure, but also nervousness and a bit of fear as I left behind everything familiar.

I attended Mass on that Saturday evening of the night before and I remember being struck by what we heard today in the first reading – how the author of the Book of Wisdom speaks of the providential care of God. He “who has the care of all”, we are told, the Lord whose “might is the source of justice” is also the one who rules with clemency, who teaches his children with patience and mercy and who gives them reason to hope. That idea was very consoling to me in that moment, as I was about to move halfway around the world, to pursue a calling which at the time I still wasn’t completely sure about. I was being told to trust that the Lord would care for me, that all was in his hands, that even though everything about my life was about to change, he would not.

Fast forward fifteen years later, and I’m much more sure about the vocation God has called me to, even if I am even more convinced of my own unworthiness for it. But the Lord remains faithful. If there’s one thing that eleven years of priesthood has taught me, it’s that he sustains us – priests and people – in our highs and our lows, always caring for us, always teaching us something powerful and important, although it may take us time to see what exactly it is. That’s what we call God’s Providence – the way he has ordered all things, everything in creation, with himself as the final end of it all. That’s a consoling truth – whether we are on our highest high or our lowest low – that somehow, no matter what is happening, God is there, constant and caring, drawing us more fully to himself.

Jesus also speaks of the Providence of God in today’s Gospel, particularly in relation to the kingdom of heaven. Last Sunday, we heard about how the Word of God is sown in the human heart; today, we hear about how it grows. Because that growth is different from how we might expect, Jesus gives us three images that explain how the kingdom of God is being cultivated. Two of these are familiar to us. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, or a bit of yeast mixed in with the dough; in other words, its power should not be discounted even if it is not immediately visible to us. Jesus is encouraging us to have faith in what we cannot always see – that the kingdom of heaven is being cultivated even now in our midst.

The third image is a little more difficult, and indeed, that’s the one that the disciples ask Jesus to explain. In cultivating an earthly harvest, we human beings are diligent about getting rid of weeds early in the growing process in order to allow the good seeds to thrive. But God’s harvest operates differently. Because the Lord is constant and caring, dealing with us patiently and mercifully, he prefers to let the good and the bad to coexist until the final accounting takes place. The process of growth is one in which reform and renewal are possible, in which the bad can be changed into the good, and in which the good must continue to prove their goodness until the end.

Jean-François Millet, Buckwheat Harvest: Summer (c. 1870)

This parable has great importance for us as a community because a parish is nothing more than a portion of the Lord’s field. God has sown the seeds of his Word in our midst, and he calls us to become fruitful for his harvest, to be leaven in the world that brings forth his kingdom. We also recognize that, as a parish, we are not a finished product; we are both wheat and weeds – collectively, but even individually. On the one hand, that is a reminder of God’s providence and patient mercy, giving us time to grow and to be changed. On the other hand, it’s also a reminder that we will be judged in the end on whether we produce – on whether we show ourselves to be, in the final accounting, fruitful wheat or barren weeds.

What does Jesus want us to take away today? Perhaps that the kingdom of God can’t grow out there [in the world] unless it first grows in here [among us]. And it can’t grow in here unless it also grows for each of us in *here* [points to heart]. That’s why Jesus says in another place “the kingdom of God is within you.” To further the work of God’s kingdom is to allow the Master to be at work in us, in our highs and our lows, in whatever is happening at the moment. His providential, fatherly care makes us better when we focus upon him as our ultimate end – when we direct ourselves to him by prayer, by regular participation in the sacraments, especially reconciliation, and by works of mercy and service to our neighbor. The Lord wishes to cultivate within us fruitful produce for his harvest, but we must cooperate with that work and persevere in it so that we may be found worthy in the end.

Friends, it’s great to be with you – on this Sunday, and in this parish. It’s great to be present with you in this portion of the Lord’s field, in this place in which by his providence he is bringing forth a harvest for his kingdom. I look forward to serving you and serving with you in whatever way that I can, for I know the Lord is present in our midst, drawing us all more fully to himself. As we prepare for this Eucharist, let us ask the Master of the harvest to bring forth good fruit by our lives, that in the final accounting we may “shine like the sun in the kingdom of our Father.”