The word ‘parable’ comes from the Greek word parabole, which means putting two things side by side in order to compare them.
Jesus’ parable in last weekend’s Gospel of the seed sown in various soil types was an attempt to boost the morale of his frustrated disciples.
They were upset and discouraged because they realized that their master was facing opposition and hostility from those in power.
The synagogues refused to admit him to preach. So Jesus had to go to beaches and hillsides. Some were planning to trap him, and the common people were more interested in his ability to heal them, or feed them than in his preaching.
Using the parable of the sower Jesus assured his confused disciples that the ‘Good News’ he preached would produce the intended effect in spite of opposition and controversy.
Matthew may have included this parable in his Gospel, because his own Judeo-Christian community was experiencing similar adverse reactions from their fellow-Jews, just as many of us today are sometimes disappointed and frustrated in our attempt to preach the Gospel in our often secular, pleasure seeking and apathetic society, tempted to say in resignation, as did those early disciples, ‘What’s the point?’
Jesus however invites his followers to embrace the faith of the sower: to trust and believe that our simplest words or acts of kindness and forgiveness, our humblest offers of help to anyone in need may be the seeds that fall ‘on good soil’ and yield an abundant harvest.
Jesus challenges us to sow seeds of encouragement, joy and reconciliation regardless of the ‘soil’ on which it is scattered, and to imitate the seed’s total giving of self that becomes the harvest of Gospel justice and mercy.
This parable therefore is a story of God's prodigality, sowing seeds copiously both right and left, in abundant measure so that we constantly receive the word in our hearts from a merciful and generous sower. God is always scattering the seeds of His kingdom around us whether we deserve them or not, so that when the soil of our hearts is ready for the seed to germinate, the seed is already there. Even the tiniest seed of God’s love can produce in us a harvest beyond our imagining. He alone is Lord of the Harvest.
for just one night…
(poem I wrote while in bed last week with the ‘flu)
This summer, Lord, for just one night,I’ll sit on Culdaff beach at duskto moon bathe while the sky's still blue,before the stars come out as dust.Let me linger long enough to lick
my ankles with the tide's soft foam,When the children have put away
their pails and spades and gone back home.
Their castles and other works of art,
being washed away by the rising tide
remind me how swift indeed
does Father Time increase his stride.
Let me hear the mighty waves
come crashing to me with a hiss
as my toes beneath my steps
on moist cool sand enjoy their kiss.
So softly falls your gentle touchUpon my heart in this time of grace.
As you make me know how near you are
With cool fresh breeze to brush my face:Let the moonlight shine on frothy waves
To make a piebald patchwork upon the shore
And in the distance I can see
the bold dark outline of Dunmore
May I moon bathe while the sky's still blue,before twilight stars appear like dust .
as on Culdaff beach ,O Lord,I linger for a while at dusk
Wisdom:
‘I have never been hurt by anything I didn’t say’.
Joke:
Three brothers became successful businessmen. Some years later, they had a reunion.
They discussed the gifts they had been able to give their elderly mother and decided to open their mother’s thank you letter to each in turn. The first said: “I had a big house built for mum.”
The second said: “I had a Mercedes dealer deliver their best car to her.”
The third said: “You know how Mammy loved hearing the word of God, and you know she can't read anymore because of her poor eyesight. Well, I met this priest called Fr O’Kane who told me about his rare parrot. Over many years he had taught the entire Bible. I had to pledge £100,000 to his church in Ballymac but it was worth it.
She just has to name the chapter and verse and the parrot will recite it." The other brothers were impressed. Then they opened the thank-you letters from their mother. To the eldest she wrote: “Mick, the house you built is so huge. I live in only one room, but I have to clean the whole house. Thanks anyway.”
To the second she wrote: “You gave me an expensive car but I am too old to travel. I stay at home and I have my groceries delivered, so I’ll never use it but the thought was good. Thanks.”
“Dearest Pat,” she wrote to her third son. “You are the only one who had the good sense to know exactly what your mother likes. I cooked that chicken you sent. It was delicious!”
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